Book 3. Chapter 60
The tunnel below was totally black, even to Brin's darkvision, and he hardly had any time to get used to breathing underwater. He really was breathing the water, and it was an intense experience. He could feel the cold liquid moving down his trachea, the way it filled his lungs making him feel heavy, how it didn't push in and out as easily as air. His body panicked; he choked and tried to cough but couldn't. He would be hyperventilating if he could, but the weight of the water forced his lungs to move slower.
He thrashed uselessly in the dark, until he felt a platform under his feet. It started to press him forwards, deeper into the water.
"Calm down, that's me. I'll carry us both along, no sweat. How are you doing there?" Hogg asked, projecting sound straight into Brin's skull. "I gave you Water Breathing because it's a lot easier to get used to than Unbreathing if it's your first time, but if you can't handle it just nod and we'll turn around and have you take the other one."
Couldn't handle it? Brin could handle anything. He forced his mind to calm, forced his arms to stop thrashing and took a deep, slow breath of a-- of water. Brin shook his head.
"Good. This tunnel is strange. There's no telling when we'll be there. Keep your eyes open."
Brin hoped he meant metaphorically, because he'd long since shut his eyes against the rushing water.
He tried to think of something that could help. There wasn't much he could do except make light, and he was hesitant to do that. Hogg must've had some way that he was scouting ahead. He probably just had better darkvision from some Achievement. He might not actually have the [Rogue] Class, but it was obvious that he had more than a passing familiarity with that kind of life.
Since there wasn't anything else he could do, he decided to prepare his arguments. He made a thread with half his brain power, and directed it to come up with the best possible words in Language for propelling the enchanted glass spear at his target. Then his main mind would prepare his arguments in the Wyrd. He'd use everything he had against Aberfa right from the start and try to kill her with his strongest attack the moment she showed her scaly face.
Time must've sped up, but it was hard to tell with no sight or sound. He only had touch left, so the only way to measure time was by the water running past his skin and the rhythm of his slow breaths in his chest. Now that he had gotten used to it, breathing water was oddly... comfortable. There always seemed to be enough oxygen, probably due to the potion, so in a way it felt more natural than breathing air. It almost felt like he was coming home.