I fall headfirst into the water, swallowing salt water, and think I: drown I will not after escaping from the belly of a serpent. And there are hands drawing me up, and I splutter hard, coughing out water.

There's something in the palm of my hand, and I open it to see a golden cog.

"Pulled this I must from its stomach," I say faintly. It seems to hum in my hand. "I don't think it's meant for me." I glance out across the water at a little boat that is bobbing, and I wonder.