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words.
    Come closer, another said in a calm but commanding voice.
    Farsy pulled Kenward back to his feet, his mouth moving but no intelligible words coming out.
    Go, now, Kenward! Or surely you will lose me.
    This thought came with a vision of Allette. He smelled her hair and felt her gentle touch. He had to go. They had to get away that instant. Her voice pounding within his mind made everything clear. Holding up two fingers, he called for thrust. The Portly Dragon lumbered through turbulence, lightning clawing the air beneath them. Pumping his fist, Kenward called for more fuel on the fire. Farsy and Bryn appeared worried. Jessub Tillerman looked panic stricken. The young man held out his hands to his sides to indicate his efforts weren't working. Kenward already knew. Too slowly did they drift, some force pulling them back despite the thrust.
    Kenward held on as the Portly Dragon listed heavily, "Prep the howler and bumblebee!"
    "Fire!" Farsy yelled.
    "Abandon ship!" Kenward shouted. "The Portly Dragon is going in!"
    Lightning reach the ship then crackled along the lowest corner, the ropes now smoking. Orange flames gushed from the boiler house, and steam rushed out with a deafening squeal. Coconuts rolled into the heat. Kenward had almost forgotten about them amid the chaos but now could think of little else. Running toward the smoldering coconut that was filled with something an ancient book claimed more powerful than the fire snakes Brothers Gustad and Milo had rediscovered, Kenward hoped to buy his crew time.
    Before he reached it, sparks flew from the mud-sealed opening. Spinning and leaping, it rolled from the deck and fell, moments later exploding with a thunderous boom. Sparks and smoke blasted the ship from below.
    Like a single, massive creature, feral dragons attacked.
    "Go now!" Kenward cried.
    The deck's pitch increased, making the bumblebee difficult to reach. Farsy had orders to meet him there. Bryn and Jessub would take the howler. Though he'd never flown the experimental aircraft, Kenward was confident Jessub would figure it out. He was a thrustmaster, the most important skill required. Gwen had taken to it almost instinctively.
    No one had expected to come out of this alive, and the odds hadn't improved. Feral dragons filled the skies around them but did not attack. Dangerously close to the megalithic crystal, the Portly Dragon was free of ferals. As if protecting against something, they blotted out the night sky, making escape on the smaller aircraft unlikely.
    When Kenward reached the bumblebee, Farsy was already there. Jessub crossed the pitching deck between him and the howler. Bryn still shoveled coal onto the fires.
    "Bryn!" Kenward shouted. The young man ignored him. "Bryn!" he screamed, knowing it would soon be too late.
    Finally Bryn acknowledged him, tossed down his shovel, and ran toward the howler. Jessub strapped himself in. Kenward watched with detached horror. This couldn't be happening. Surely he would wake soon and it would all be over. No such luck.
    With jarring impact, the Portly Dragon struck the Noonspire. Squealing in protest, the ship ponderously spun, the gaping chasm ready to consume them. Lightning assaulted the rigging, and Kenward knew time had run out. Farsy patted him on the shoulder, signaling he was ready, and Kenward slammed the pressure release forward. Nothing happened. A brief inspection revealed part of the controls had come loose. Blasted connecting rods!
    The howler preparing to take off made him turn his head. Bryn wasn't on board, and the howler was still secured. Sprawled on the deck, Bryn moved but not fast enough. With the deck pitched, Jessub had been unable to release the straps.
    "Hurry, Bryn!" Jessub shouted. "Hurry!"
    Time ran out. Jamming the connecting rod back onto the shaft, Kenward hoped it would hold. Gradually he opened the air tank. After three forceful thumps, the bumblebee came up to song and launched across the deck at an upward angle. Looking