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This is it, Emil thinks as the scratching becomes the sound of Duskling claws wearing gouges into the wood. If you can hear me - I'm sorry, Lalli. I tried to protect you, but at least I won't let them eat us alive. Emil slides to the floor and kneels by Lalli's head, fumbles with his rifle for a second. His sight is all blurry. Before he sets the muzzle to Lalli's forehead he bows down, slips his fingers through the hair at the back of Lalli's head, and presses his lips to Lalli's forehead instead, lingering.* A jolt ripples through the water. A new barrier forms around Lalli without any of his doing, shears through the coil that is squeezing the life out of his soul. The spirit lets go of him with an unearthly roar and its eye in the skull extinguishes in a flicker in the clouds of its blood through the water. Inside the barrier, it is dry and safe; there is air to breathe, and while Lalli still hacks up water and slime, his spirit can sense - not explain, this shouldn't be possible, but sense - the protection's origin. Emil. Somehow. * The horrible voices are louder now. Their claws are coming through - only seconds left to make good on his promise. Emil can't bring himself to let go, pressing his lips to Lalli's clammy-cold face, all over. "Come back. Wake up," he pleads, cradling Lalli against his chest, shielding him. He drops his rifle. Underwater, a pull on Lalli. He knows better than to resist this stroke of fortune. There's touch in it that he doesn't hate, and a voice, insufferable, whiny, stupid Swedish - and beautiful, a light made sound. In the distance, his Haven.Under Emil's lips, Lalli's eyelids flutter.