Aylin put one hand against Jiang's good foot and stopped him from standing.
"You are warmer," she said. "That is not the same as warm."
"It is closer than I was."
"So is the armada. Neither fact improves this idea."
White fire crept farther along Cairnspire's gate teeth.
Morrowfin held her wounded fold against the opening. Each breath drew black water through the narrow slit, pulled the fire inward, and released it against the iron again. The splintered remains of Ashwake's mast bent between the closing teeth.
Vessa Rane struck the gate lock with the flat of her hammer. "If that spar breaks, the feeder throat closes through her wing."
Irra had already left Ashwake's deck.
She came down the torn half-sail with a strip of silver cloth over one shoulder and a flat piece of clean star shell under her arm. Neither object ended in a point. Two crew members followed with a thick line that had a smooth bronze eye instead of a hook.
"Hold the gate," Irra said.
