Nautilus falling, St George chasing him

The merman fell like a skydiver, angling his body into the wind. He picked up speed, dropping as fast as St. George could fly after him. His clothes rippled and snapped in the wind as he cut through the sky, passed over mist-shrouded Lemuria, and rocketed toward the ocean.
St. George willed himself faster. They were halfway down. He shrank the distance between them to twenty-five feet. Twenty. Fifteen.
…
His fingers brushed webbed toes. He put on a last burst of speed and grabbed at the foot. Nautilus kicked him away. St. George reached and grabbed again. The ankle was small enough that he could get his fingers around it.
The merman spun and lashed out and howled. His gnashing teeth were small and square. White showed around desperate, dark eyes.
St. George tried to slow them down, tried to bleed off a little bit of their momentum. Nautilus slammed his other heel down on the hero’s hand. He kicked again and again, but there was only normal human strength in the tanned leg, and St. George’s fingers were like stone.

Excerpt From Ex-Isle, pg 644
Peter Clines
https://books.apple.com/us/book/ex-isle/id989619017