“What about him?”

“I’d like to meet him, once I get home again.”

“And you will,” the Archon said immediately, with too much energy. “That I promise. In fact, I see a lot of strong reasons why you two should be good friends.”

And then it was many days later, and sitting on the sourlip coral, Zakk repeated those delicious words.

“You two should be good friends,” he muttered.

Jet engines growled and the cannons barked. Armored fletches were pressing forward, and the papio wings were crisscrossing while firing and taking fire. But at this distance, the battle remained muted, every contestant small. The noise was so minimal that Zakk could make out the distinct crunches of boots grinding into the coral dust behind him, and then the boots stopped and he heard the voice of the soldier.

“Your hands,” the soldier said. “Drop the binoculars and lift both hands where I can see them.”

Zakk did what he was told. When did he ever struggle against authority?

The soldier stepped and stepped, and then he stopped again. He had been running, but his breathing was already as slow as Zakk’s. Soldiers were marvelously fit. When he got home, Zakk would start to train like a papio soldier. Diamond was supposed to be fast on his feet. Maybe they could train with each other, and when they weren’t training, they would share stories about being alone and odd in the world.

“What are doing here?” asked the soldier.

“I was looking for Divers. Do you know where she is?”

“No.”

“She was going to meet Bountiful when it lands,” he said.

“Who told you about Bountiful?” the soldier asked.

Zakk told the truth, naming another soldier.

The feet behind him shifted, growing comfortable with their stance.

“Which ship is Bountiful?” asked Zakk.

The soldier didn’t answer.

Nobody else had joined them, but it was easy to imagine other soldiers spotting the two of them sharing this high ground, quickly converging on tiny, dangerous him.

What else could he do?

“It’s the green blimp,” the soldier said abruptly.

“I don’t see it.”

“Lower. Look lower.” The voice was tight, just short of angry.

“What’s wrong with that ship?” asked Zakk.

“It’s been damaged. Severely, by the looks.”

Bountiful was a green bag that was falling as quickly as it pushed ahead. Instead of being long and trim, it was sagging, particularly in the middle. And in those next moments, even with bare eyes, Zakk noticed a flicker of piercing blue flame near the stern—the first traces of a fire that would only grow worse.

Concerned, the soldier said, “I don’t know if she’ll feel the reef.”

“I think she will,” Zakk said.

The soldier waited for a moment, and then he asked, “Who are you?”

Zakk started to answer.

“No, really,” said the papio. “Tell me something true.”

An unexpected thought came to Zakk. That happened quite a lot, and maybe it was because he was a mixture of bloods. Hybrid animals often had greater powers than their parents. Whatever the reason, the idea arrived fully formed, and he liked it enough that he had to smile. The entire world was descending into war, and an armed man was standing behind him, certainly holding a gun at his skull . . . yet he felt relaxed enough to turn his head to one side, showing his expression to the soldier.

“Why are you grinning?” the papio asked.

“I’m just wondering if we’re like Divers. Like Diamond. Maybe all of us are the same as them.”

“What do you mean?”

Zakk said nothing.

The hammer on a big pistol was cocked.

Not caring if this was a mistake, Zakk set the binoculars against his wet eyes. Fletches were burning. Bountiful looked ill and sorry. And at the last, with a quiet voice, he said, “Maybe we’re also children of the corona. Have you ever wondered about that?”

What was amazing was the absolute lack of amazement. The boy was talking wildly about the sister that he had just met and the other sister, or whatever she was, lurking in the high shadows of the reef. Nothing else seemed to matter to Diamond. Bountiful was wounded, plunging out the sky. Its human crew had been let out of confinement, the surviving soldiers giving tree-walkers permission and helping hands to buy the ship more speed and more lift. Yet inside all of that chaos and purpose, what mattered was the quick crazed voice telling Merit about the creature that had clung outside the cabin window, and the other creature that Quest had seen just a few times, at extreme distance—an entity that the papio now and again mentioned inside their whispered conversations.

“Divers,” he said. “That’s my other sister’s name.”

“Where’s Quest now?” Seldom asked.

The other children were listening too.

“I don’t know where she is,” Diamond said. “She promised to stay close, but she was hungry . . . and that was before the attack.”

Bountiful had recovered most of its trim. People who couldn’t work were sitting on the shop floor. A couple of the crew members were digging into one of the storerooms, working to assemble and inflate one of the little airships.

Merit yelled at them, and he tried to stand.

“Don’t,” Nissim said. “Let the leg rest.”

Somewhere in the mayhem, his left knee had been wrenched. Even with adrenalin quickening his blood, Merit had trouble coping with the pain.

Pointing at the storeroom, he said, “There isn’t time for cleverness. Tell them.”

“Okay,” Nissim said. “But what good can we do?”

“Deploy crash chairs. And find a working receiver, get an open line to the bridge.”

The Master nodded, and in a moment of genius, he kicked Karlan.

“Get up and help me,” he said.

Karlan cursed. But a moment later, with the weariest of groans, he stood and started walking.

Diamond had stopped talking about sisters, but he hadn’t quit thinking about them. One glance at his big eyes said as much.

“And what does Quest look like?” Elata asked.

“Anything she wants,” Diamond said, delighted. “She shapes the body she needs, or she peels away everything to become small.”

“What about Divers?” asked Seldom.

A different siren began to sound, spreading through the ship with a rhythm that Merit knew too well.

“Fire suits,” he shouted to Nissim and Karlan. “Unpack all of them, now.”

The crew from the storeroom came running, throwing themselves into the task. And the three children continued to sit on the floor, not calm and not even a little relaxed; but they acted as if time didn’t matter, as if their conversation could be cut off anywhere and resumed at some later, better moment.

Good was sitting between Diamond’s legs, and he dropped his head whenever he heard the wings approaching, as if that would make the machines miss. Suddenly he lowered his head farther than ever, and the children and even Merit did the same. A pair of wings roared past, probably embarking from High Coral Merry on their way out to shoot at List’s fleet.

“Divers,” said Seldom, holding to the topic.

“She’s like a giant papio,” Diamond said. “Quest doesn’t dare get close to the reef. The wilderness is too thin and high, and she might be seen. But from a distance, once, she saw Divers all alone.”

“You’re sure it was her,” said Elata.

“She’s huge. As big as a big room,” Diamond said. “And she had hurt herself on the coral. That’s what Quest saw, and that’s what she showed me.”

The other children nodded.

“I saw her bleeding, and then it was healed. Like me, and like King too.”

“Quest is the same as you two?” asked Seldom.

“But she’s even more powerful than us.”

Diamond looked giddy and sick, joyous and ready to collapse. A father knew how to read his son’s face, and Merit had only a little trouble piecing together the clues. Putting an arm around the boy, he said, “Maybe we should stop talking. Save our strength.”