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Chime swung over the railing and explained, “I fell out when we forced the panel open, so I just stayed out here.”

“Get the kethel!” Moon pointed.

Chime turned around and took another projectile packet out of the bag. He struck the wick against a small rough panel on the side of the weapon, and it sparked into flame. Then he pushed it into the tube, pumped the handle, and aimed down at the kethel. The weapon fired with a muted thunk, the packet bursting into a fireball as it flew through the air. “Once it’s lit, you have to shoot fast,” Chime muttered.

Floret reached Moon’s side. “Lithe’s staying below with the wounded.” She hesitated. “Was there any sign of Shade?”

“Yes.” Through the rapidly rising smoke, Moon saw the projectile hit the kethel’s back and explode into burning fragments. It howled in rage and pain. Its flesh didn’t seem to catch on fire and but the weapon had obviously hurt it. Thrashing, it dropped down into the burning mass at the bottom of the sac and vanished. And Moon glimpsed daylight, real daylight. “The sac’s open.”

“What?” Chime and Floret leaned over to look. Chime added, “Yes, there’s a hole, I see it!”

The lower part of the sac, where the oil and burning debris had collected, was dissolving in the heat and flames. Red and orange light shone up from it, illuminating the smoky haze as if all the air was on fire. But Moon couldn’t tell if the opening in the sac was big enough. “Can you lower the boat down through there?”

“I can try. If we’re not too low already—” Chime stared at him, startled. “You think we can escape?”

“No,” Moon told him, “but I think we should try.”

Despair and hope warred in Chime’s expression, but he handed the fire weapon and the bag of projectiles to Moon and darted for the steering cabin. Moon said, “Saffron, go with him!” Someone needed to guard Chime if the dakti returned.

Saffron bounded after Chime, and Moon turned to Floret. Flickers of fire glowed all over the nest, obscured by the smoke, and the Fell would never be more distracted. He pointed toward the part of the sac where the rulers had flown with Shade. “The progenitor and the rulers went that way with Shade. Try to get out through the sac and go after them. If there’s no chance to help Shade get away, follow and see where the Fell are taking him.” Moon was counting on the fact that Jade and Malachite and Stone were certain to track the Fell here eventually. How soon depended on whether Celadon or any of her warriors had gotten away or not. Somebody had to be here to tell them what had happened.

Floret cocked her head. “Why ask me and not Saffron? She’s from his court; she has to protect him.”

Moon hissed in impatience but answered her. “Because she won’t leave Ivory, and you know I won’t leave Root and Song.”

Floret hesitated, but then dropped her spines in acknowledgement. “Yes, I do know that.” She stepped away. “Good luck!”

Floret sprang into the air, flapped hard, and disappeared into the heavy smoke and haze rapidly filling the sac. The boat started to drift down, jerked as it hit a support web. Moon lit another projectile and shoved it into the weapon, pumped the lever and fired down toward the bottom of the sac. Judging by the resultant explosion, it hit something, though he couldn’t see what.

He readied another projectile and fired it up at the nest. There were several packets left, and he struggled between the urge to fire them all off or wait until he could spot another kethel or a better target. The nest wasn’t burning as well as the supports and webbing at the bottom of the sac, but then it hadn’t been splashed with lamp oil.

A scatter of dakti appeared out of the smoke, dropped to the deck and charged him. Moon slung the weapon over his shoulder and lunged to meet them.

One flew at his face and as he slashed it aside another one grabbed for the fire weapon. It missed the metal tube but its claws caught the bag with the projectiles and yanked it off the strap. Moon lunged for it but the dakti yelped derisive laughter and threw the pouch over the railing.

Over the railing, right above the fire burning on the supports and at the bottom of the sac. Moon yelled, “Saffron, Chime, get down!” He dropped and covered his face.

The fire below made a terrifyingly loud whoosh noise and heat washed over the deck. Moon waited for the flash of light leaking between his fingers to fade, then jumped up. Dakti sprawled all over the deck, or reeled from the stunning brightness of the flash.

Slashing and tearing at the half-blind dakti, dodging their attempts to pile on top of him, Moon felt the deck sway as the craft sank down toward the bottom of the sac. Choking smoke filled the air until he couldn’t even see across the boat. There must be an opening in the top of the sac somewhere, because the smoke kept streaming upward; it was the only thing that let them all keep breathing. He hoped that meant Floret had gotten out.

Heat washed over the deck and flames rose past the nearest railing. Moon slashed open the belly of the next dakti who flew at him and tossed it over the side. Flying boats, kept in the air by the sustainer that allowed them to drift on the lines of force that crossed the Three Worlds, could only go so far down to the ground. Moon had seen one get as close as twenty or thirty paces but he wasn’t sure if Chime knew how to make the boat do that. If the sac was already low in the air, they could be trapped in the flames.

A dakti hit Moon from behind and knocked him to the deck. He stiffened his spines and rolled to impale it, then lifted his feet, catching another with his disemboweling claws when it tried to dive on top of him. It fell away, keening, and he rolled forward to shake the dying one off his back. He stood up and recoiled in shock.

The rest of the dakti had fled and the deck was level with the burning surface of the sac, sinking into an inferno. The intense heat stung in the cuts and slashes in his scales, seared his eyes, and the stinking smoke boiled up. Past the ring of fire, Moon could see the sac wasn’t burning away nearly as fast as he would have liked. The splashed oil and falling debris had managed to catch this part of it on fire, and it was slowly eating away at the rest, but the whole sac was not going to burn.

The good part was that the boat didn’t seem to be on fire either, even though fragments of burning web landed on it. The plant material it was made of must be just as resistant to burning as cutting. Moon hurried to put out the spots he could reach anyway, singeing his scales to stamp on them. He found a stray projectile packet that must have fallen out of the bag and hastily collected it; if flaming debris had landed on it, they would have discovered just how flammable the boat was.

Then suddenly the boat dropped past the fire and they were in open air, so fresh and strong and salt-scented it was like a welcome slap in the face.

It was late afternoon under a sky stained with gray clouds, and they were on the edge of a rocky coast. Gray stone slopes led down to a narrow ribbon of beach washed by waves. Dozens of islands dotted the deep blue water, some just scatters of peaks standing above the surface, others large domes of rock that supported small jungles of greenery. They covered the water as far as Moon could see.

Moon looked up at the sac, the great mottled mass looming over the little boat. From here the small size of the burning hole was frighteningly obvious; a little smaller and the boat would have been trapped.

Moon crossed the deck in one bound and reached the steering cabin. Chime had both hands on the steering post. Saffron guarded the entrance. From the slashes in her dark copper scales, she must have fought dakti as well. Moon tried to talk, realized his throat was raw from the smoke, and gasped out, “You all right?”

She nodded, coughed harshly, and managed to ask, “Where’s Floret?”