Not only the decommissioned airship was on fire. As Discovery lowered to eight thousand feet, Les spotted a vast field of debris from sunk vessels spread across the water.
On the horizon, a chimney of smoke rose from another fire that appeared to be burning out of control.
“What is that?” Eevi said.
Les held back a curse and said, “Timothy, tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”
The AI took a moment to confirm that it was indeed their last tanker, which had been anchored outside a rig. The fire had spread to that rig and was now rising toward the rooftop.
Les wanted to punch his screen. He didn’t even know the extent of the damage from the attack or whether his family was alive, but things looked bad.
He wasn’t sure they would be able to come back from this.
Exhaling, he tapped his monitor to shut down the thrusters, switching to the turbofans and then directing the airship toward the capitol tower.
Discovery leveled out, and cloudy horizon replaced the ocean in the monitor.
Flying over the other rigs gave him a new perspective on the attack. It wasn’t just sky people who had suffered. The trading-post rig had taken heavy damage, and a rooftop farm burned.
The skinwalkers had attacked their military posts, destroyed their fuel, and taken out some crops and water supply.
“This is very bad,” Timothy said. “I’m so sorry, Captain Mitchells and Ensign Corey.”
Eevi met Les’s gaze, but neither said a word.
They hovered over the capitol tower. In the dirt around the sky arena lay human bodies haloed by blood streaks. Among them were pale carcasses of monsters, strewn about as if a tornado had whipped across the rooftop.
But not everyone down there was dead.
“Pull up!” Les yelled when he saw the armored Cazadores run out of the forest.
Discovery lurched away from the capitol tower.
Les studied the monitor, noticing several militia soldiers.
“Aiming the twenty-millimeter cannons,” Timothy said. “Firing on your mark.”
“No, hold your fire!”
Les walked over to the screen. With the Cazador warriors were Hell Divers. Now the king walked out in front of the group and waved his sword.
A radio transmission crackled from the speakers.
“Captain Mitchells, what the hell are you doing?” said a familiar gritty voice.
It was X, all right. He sounded furious, but that just meant he was still alive.
Les said nothing about sending Cricket through the barrier to track down Raven’s Claw, for fear the wrong people were listening.
He simply said, “We came to help.”
“We don’t need it!” X yelled over the channel. “Get back into the clouds!”
“My family—”
“Is fine,” X replied. “I checked in on them personally, and Ton and Miles are with them now.”
Les swallowed. “Thank you, sir.”
The airship climbed higher into the sky as Timothy guided them away from the rooftop.
“Stay in the sky until I give the order,” X growled over the comms.
Warning sensors suddenly beeped across all stations on the bridge. An alarm wailed. Timothy’s holographic eyes widened.
“Incoming!” he yelled.
“Evasive maneuvers!” Les shouted back.
The airship jerked as the thrusters fired to accelerate Discovery out of the path of another missile. But this time, not even the AI could save them.
Eevi let out a cry.
The impact knocked Les to the deck, and the world went dark.
Magnolia gasped for air. She shot up into a sitting position, to find herself on a wide fishing boat packed to the gunwales with passengers. None of these people were looking at her. A few appeared to be sleeping. Those who were awake stared at the sky, where sparks rained down from the side of what looked like…
Discovery. That was Discovery up there!
The boat thumped over a wave, sending a jolt of pain through her. She fought back to a sitting position and watched the airship climb into the clouds.
Some of her fellow passengers pointed. She could see their lips moving, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. It wasn’t just voices—she couldn’t even hear the motor on the fishing boat.
Pain filled her skull. Reaching up, she felt something covering the right side of her head, which burned like hell. A bandage, she realized. But how did she get hurt?
The last thing she remembered was fighting Moreto.
She looked again at the people who appeared to be sleeping. Blinking, she realized they were unconscious or dead from devastating burns.
A memory flashed in her mind, and when she saw smoke rising in the distance, the memories rolled in like a wave of fire from a Cazador flamethrower.
She was one of the burn victims in an attack orchestrated by Moreto.
Anger and fear gripped Magnolia, and it got worse when the person sitting on the deck in front of her turned.
She hardly even recognized Rodger.
Tears rolled down his ashen face, and blood soiled his outfit. He reached out to her with a bandaged hand, and she took it, choking up as she recalled what had happened.
Magnolia closed her eyes, trying to stop the painful images, but the militia soldier who had died in her arms lingered. Then came the explosion of the cage, where civilians had clustered to escape the violence.
Rodger gripped her hand a little tighter, as if he could sense her mental anguish.
All around them were injured sky people and Cazadores. Imulah was in the bow, being treated by a medical worker in gray coveralls.
Dr. Huff checked a militia soldier with his back to the hull. He was in bad shape, with blood streaking down his black armor.
Huff made his way over to Magnolia and bent down. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and gently held her chin, rotating her head to the left to check her bandage.
His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Rodger said something that she couldn’t hear, either.
Had she lost her hearing completely?
She reached up again to feel the bandage that was wrapped around her head. Maybe it was blocking out the sound.
But that was unlikely.
She could feel fluid in her ears—not a good sign. Huff checked her chest armor, and glancing down, she saw why. A hunk of shrapnel stuck out just above her heart.
The doctor bent down for a better look, and Magnolia tried to read his lips.
“No blood,” he seemed to say. Then something about armor, and luck.
He patted her on the shoulder, forced a smile, and nodded at Rodger before moving on to another patient.
Rodger scooted closer, his eyes glazed with tears.
It’s okay, she mouthed. I’ll be okay.
She was more concerned about Discovery. If the airship went down, there went their best hope of defending the islands.
Scanning the sky, she searched for the airship but saw nothing.
The boat slowed, and several people got up in the bow. A militia soldier hopped onto a pier and pulled the craft over by its mooring line.
Rodger helped Magnolia up, and the slow exodus began. Some of the injured could make it onto the platform unaided; others were carried. Once on the deck, the worst of the injured were put on stretchers and carried toward the doors.
She put her arm around Rodger and walked toward more medical staff, civilians, and even merchants who had come to help.
Then she saw the armored Cazadores across the piers. She halted in midstride and pulled Rodger back when she saw a stack of Siren carcasses.