Nature seemed to have stopped breathing. The air was heavy, oppressive. And the high humidity and heat, unrelieved by any wind, was weighty and pressed on them.
"Can you swim?" he asked.
"Quite well." Her hands were on his shoulders. They clung a moment, then shoved away.
Treading water now as easily as he, she asked, "How long do you give us to live? Not that it matters."
"The future is a mystery to me," he said. "Maybe a second. Maybe a hundred years."
"But you'll admit we've no chance now! Soon hordes of sea monsters will scent us out. Surely you'll not deny that this time you will go to meet your barbaric gods!"
"Who knows?"
She cursed him thoroughly. "You're mad!"
"I am Moljar."
She sighed resignedly. "You say that like omnipotence would say, 'I'm God'."