Ashaun pulled the cord across the blade.
It snapped with a sound too small for what happened next. Lilt surged toward Chaska. Pip rolled free, struck the oar broadside, and wrapped three feet around it.
“Up!” Chaska shouted.
Ysabet pulled.
The oar’s handle scraped under her left ribs. Her right hand could not grip the root, so she hooked the elbow around it and hauled with shoulder and back. Pip came toward her in a spilling bundle, heavier than it had been when dry.
Ashaun laid the dagger on the upper step, then caught the oar near its blade with her right hand. Together they swung it toward the step. The creature slid onto stone and lay with water running from its folds.
Ysabet pushed the oar away before it could roll back. She knelt over Pip, searching for movement she understood.
Its mouth opened. Water poured out. A fine tremor ran across the lower folds, followed by one rough click.
“Give it room,” Ashaun said.
Ysabet looked up at her, ready to fight the words. The woman was already turning away.
Lilt still lay half in the channel. Chaska had cut the harness strap with her own small knife now that she could reach it. She drew the loose leather clear, called once, and ran up the bank. Lilt heaved after her. The broad body slid over mud and stone, trailing two knife fish caught beneath its edge.
Ashaun retrieved the bell dagger and used its flat to push one fish into the water. The other had lodged in a torn strap. She cut the leather away and carried fish and scrap to the channel together.
Chaska knelt by her ray. “Left edge. Not deep. I think.”
“Get her higher.”
“I’m trying.”
Ashaun stepped aside. Chaska put her forehead against the front of Lilt’s body, stayed there a breath, then moved again. The ray followed her onto the upper paving with a slow rippling effort.
Ysabet turned Pip so its jaw lay downhill. She supported it without pressing the folds flat. More water drained. The feet loosened from their rigid curl.
It tried to stand.
“No. Not yet.”
She could not tell whether the words mattered, but the movement stopped when she put the sack beneath its chest. Its larger eye opened, filmed with brown water. She rinsed the edge with clean water from their jar and waited until it blinked.
Across the floor the mouse scratched inside its box.
Pip’s head jerked toward the sound.
“It’s here.” Ysabet fetched the box and set it beside the sack. The mouse came out only far enough to inspect the wet creature. Then it turned and went under its cover again.
Pip lowered its head.
Chaska spoke from beside Lilt. “Will you look?”
Ysabet stayed on her knees one breath longer, then went to her. The scratches along Lilt’s left edge were shallow but numerous. Blood and brown water made them look worse. One longer cut lay under the loosened harness strap. It did not open through the whole thin edge.
They washed it without scrubbing. Chaska held the soft body steady while Ysabet worked left-handed with the cloth. Lilt shivered whenever water ran into the deeper scratch, then settled when Chaska lowered her face and breathed against her.
Ashaun brought the kettle.
“Clean. Still warm.”
“Thank you,” Chaska said without looking up.
The woman put it down. Her right hand was steady now, though there was a red welt around the wrist where the line had dragged across it. Water dripped from the stone end of her other arm.
After bringing the kettle, Ashaun set the blade on the altar, within her reach.
Ysabet looked at it after they had finished. A bit of green cord clung to the pale seam. Ashaun picked it free with a nail.
“You could have,” Ysabet said.
“Yes.”
Pip was trying to climb into the mouse’s box. It could fit its head and no more. Its back feet slipped on the wet paving. Ysabet moved the sack underneath before the effort turned into another fall.
Ashaun wrapped the dagger.
“I couldn’t see it clearly under the water,” she said. “Then I could. It was just trying to get up.”
Ysabet had no answer that would not turn the moment into something larger than the woman had given.
Chaska carried the cut harness up to the driest stone. She laid out every strap, found the damaged one, and cut away a frayed end with short, furious strokes. Then she stopped and put down the knife.
“I tied the line where she could slide.”
“It wasn’t your line,” Ysabet said.
“I chose the bank.”
Ashaun stirred the coals. “The bank looked sound. Nobody checked under the grass.”
Chaska glanced at her. “You included?”
“Yes.”
For a while they listened to the water. It had risen another step, but the upper floor stayed dry. Ashaun fetched their food from the lower doorway and piled two loose stones against the opening to mark where the water must not reach.
Ysabet took the familiar box out of Pip’s reach and set it against the sack instead. The mouse was dry. The ray was breathing evenly. Pip’s larger eye followed her hand when she offered another spoonful of clean water.
She held it until the creature had finished, her forearm resting on her knee so the shaking would not spill it.