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through the spot. He ducks his face into the water. He only sees the murk and matter of the sea. He swims on.
    Jeryon reaches Topp first. He tries to talk to him, but waves flood his mouth. Topp doesn’t respond anyway. Warily, Jeryon swims behind the sailor, a fist at the ready, then he grabs Topp around his chest. He puts up no resistance, and with a few scissor kicks Jeryon drags him to the line. He slips it under Topp’s arm. This Topp understands, and he comes to, as if from sleep.
    â€œGo,” Jeryon says. “Climb to safety.”
    â€œNo. Beale. I have to save him.”
    â€œThen haul us in,” Jeryon says.
    Topp says “Aye,” and he pulls for the ship. A cheer goes up on board.
    Jeryon swims to where the block is nearly submerged by the weight of the harpoon. Beale is ten yards away. His flailing is getting more frantic. He’ll pull me under if I get close , Jeryon thinks.
    Livion watches the dragon beat toward the Comber . It either has no fire left, or it’s so intent on swimming that it can’t muster a breath. With only starboard oars, any attempt to go forward will carry the Comber dangerously close to the dragon. But, if he backrows any farther, Jeryon’s lifeline will get pulled away. Company policy dictates: Never risk the ship for a sailor. But he can’t let the captain die. And he doesn’t have to use all his oars. He pipes for just the forward three to pull, steers to larboard, and the Comber, balanced, edges toward the men in the water.
    The harpoon line folds before the prow. Everlyn and the sailors, relieved that the ship is moving, take up the slack. With the dragon closing in, Solet hears Livion pipe “to arms.” But, instead of gathering the scattered crossbows and men to wield them he runs to the stern deck. Livion pipes again. Solet won’t be deterred.
    Jeryon holds his hands out as best he can, trying to calm Beale. “I’m going to push you to the rope,” he says, circling the harpooner. “Don’t do anything. Look at the rope.” Beale’s eyes follow him, though. He spots the dragon beyond Jeryon, and all the fire goes out of him. He pulls in his arms, exhales, and sinks.
    Saving him for a flogging, Jeryon thinks. He dives.
    While Topp is being lifted onto the galley Livion searches the water for the captain. He hasn’t emerged.
    Solet climbs to the stern deck. Livion says, “I have the ship, and I gave you an order!”
    â€œThen I am acting first officer,” Solet says, “and it’s my duty to remind you—”
    â€œI know the book,” Livion says.
    â€œAnd I know the captain would have ordered you to stay away from the dragon,” Solet says.
    Livion stares at him coldly. “You want him dead. Then you’ll want the dragon as a prize.”
    Solet has the audacity to appear surprised. He says, “The captain and Beale may already be gone. We aren’t.”
    Jeryon still hasn’t emerged. The poth, Topp, and the firemen hold the line, waiting. A few other sailors have taken up crossbows to shoot the dragon. Two bolts stick in its face. The dragon isn’t discouraged.
    â€œCrossbows aren’t going to kill that thing,” Solet says. “We have to back water. We can watch it die from a distance. It can’t have long.”
    Livion has to agree, however insolent and manipulative Solet is. Even if the captain emerges, by the time they could reel him in, the dragon would be climbing over the rail. He pipes again. The remaining rowers lift as one and pull the ship away from the dragon. The harpoon line is dragged through the water. The poth throws the slack out, leaps up, and looks pleadingly at Livion. She points at the line. There’s nothing there.
    Livion tells Solet, “I want a report on the damage below in five minutes and one on the wounded in ten.”
    6
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    As the Comber accelerates, the block at the end of the harpoon line