Then, without pausing, he jumped to his feet and peered back down, over the side. ‘Cowlquape!’ he bellowed. Certainly he had heard no splash and, though he peered closely at the muddy riverbed below, he could see no sign of his young apprentice. ‘Cowlquape!’ he cried out again. ‘Where are you?’ ‘Down here,’ came a weak voice. Twig's heart gave a leap. ‘Where?’ ‘On the hull-rigging,’ said Cowlquape. ‘But I don't know if I can hang on for much longer.’ ‘Yes, you can!’ Twig urged him. ‘You've got to, Cowlquape.’ Far below now, the Edgewater River gave way to the Mire. ‘It … it's no good,’ Cowlquape whimpered. ‘I can't get a foothold and my arms … so weak …’ Twig looked round desperately for help, but the Skyraider was oddly deserted. The mobgnome had disappeared, and there was no-one else in sight apart from a squat and somewhat flamboyant figure standing up at the helm.
What do You think about Midnight Over Sanctaphrax?
