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boat just in time to see the captain being dragged over the side by what appeared to be a dark, ridged tentacle.

Chapter 8
    It was hard to see what it was in the moonlight. Hercules glimpsed the flash of—
was that a tentacle?
—wrapping around the boat captain’s waist, and then both captain and tentacle had disappeared over the side. In the wake of that disappearance, the small boat pitched and yawed, threatening to capsize.
    Still standing on the prow, Hercules danced in place as he fought to keep his balance, turning back to the sea where Iolaus had fallen overboard. “Iolaus!” he cried. “Iolaus, where are you?”
    A sopping mop of blond hair emerged four feet from where Hercules was looking, accompanied by a loud gasp as Iolaus sucked desperately for air. “Herc—?” he spluttered through a mouthful of seawater. “What hap-happened?”
    Crouching down, Hercules thrust one arm out towards Iolaus’ bobbing figure in the moonlight. “Here, give me your hand,” he said. “Quickly.”
    Iolaus grabbed for the hand, paddling in the waves to reach it. “What happened?” he repeated as Hercules hefted his soaking form from the cold water.
    â€œWe’re under attack,” Hercules said, already hurrying back along the length of the boat. Four long strides and he was at the rudder where the boat’s captain had been dragged under by that
thing.
    â€œCaptain?” Hercules shouted. “Can you hear me?”
    No reply.
    A moment later, his clothes dripping with water, his wet hair clinging to his brow, a shivering Iolaus joined Hercules. “What’s going on? Where’s th—?”
    Hercules did not answer. He simply dived over the side of the boat, bringing his hands together as he cut the water.
    â€œHercules?” Iolaus shouted in his wake as he was splashed with water. “Now what’s he think he’s doing?”
    It was cold beneath the surface; colder than Hercules had been expecting. Moonlight painted everything at the surface in a kind of deep blue shade, but a few feet below the ocean was just a spreading darkness, black on black on black,
ad nauseam.
    Holding the breath he had taken, Hercules swam down, driving himself farther into that characterless blackness. He could not see anything down here, and in just a few strokes it was like being lost in absolute darkness, with no sense of direction, no up or down.
    Something moved close by, close enough that Hercules felt the pull of the current and found himself lurching sideward. He looked all around, the pressure in his lungs building, trying to find the source of the drag—and hopefully locate the captain.
    For a long span of time—where seconds stretched to hours in the featureless darkness—Hercules saw nothing. Then the creature shimmered past like a millipede, scales catching just a fleck of the moonlight so that it looked like a handful of coins had been dropped in the water. Hercules swam for those “coins,” driving himself onwards, ignoring the growing ache in his lungs.
    It moved fast, whatever it was. Hercules saw it turning, following a different course away from the boat and its destination. It was fast, yes—but it was also big, a long body wavering in a great arc as it made its way through the dark water.
    Come on,
Hercules chided himself.
Catch it. Don’t think about the need to draw breath, just catch it.
    He swam harder, faster, driving every iota of his strength and stamina into that chase as the mystery creature plunged away through the curtain of darkness. For a moment it seemed that Hercules would not catch it, that it was moving too fast, in its element here in the water, while his breath stagnated in his lungs and threatened to sink him. Then something brushed right beside him, a curving length of tentacle or tail—Hercules could not be certain which—wavering through the water, thick as his arm. Hercules