By the Tomb of Dukagsh, this was a fight! the general thought with a mixture of shock and excitement. An armada, an elven capital ship! But how could it have just appeared there? Were the rumors of cloaking devices on elven ships true? Could the elves hide entire battleships right up to the moment of attack?

"We'll know soon enough, when we peel your skin off," the general said aloud. The scro next to him wisely said nothing. "It shouldn't take long. Twenty-seven ships to one seems fair enough to me." Vorr smiled.

At that moment, he saw a second elven ship, a man-o-war, appear out of nowhere and open fire on a vipership. The smaller vessel immediately burst apart in flames, its back broken.

Another man-o-war then appeared and went for its prey. Then a third and a fourth one came out of nowhere.

Ten minutes later, the gnomes arrived and shot at everyone.

*****

Teldin wondered when the dream would end. He felt very warm and light-headed. He still couldn't move his legs, but they felt fine now. Numb, but fine.

In one way, Teldin could still see the companionway around him, with the buckled port wall and the hole in the ceiling where the galley had been. In another way, he was looking ahead of the Probe, as if he were still hovering above it like a guardian spirit. The curve of Ironpiece's distant edge now filled the forward view. The near edge of the world was below them and falling sternward rapidly. The ship was going right where Teldin wanted it: down to the ground.

I need a lake, he thought, as he watched one pass far beneath the ship. The Probe has to land in water. There must be water ahead somewhere.

"Teldin."

Teldin wasn't surprised. He had vaguely noticed Aelfred coming down the stairs from the main deck. Aelfred was followed by Sylvie, who had a torn strip of cloth wound around her bloodied head. It was a strip from Aelfred's shirt, he noticed. Aelfred seemed uninjured.

"Teldin, what are you doing?" Aelfred appeared to be afraid to get any closer than the bottom step. He was just a few feet from Teldin's outstretched left arm. He spoke very quietly but dearly, like a child, staring at Teldin's cloak.

How odd, Teldin thought. My cloak is glowing. It's pink, like a sunrise.

Teldin licked his lips. The dream still held. "I'm saving the ship," he said in a barely audible voice. He tried to clear his throat. "We're going to Ironpiece."

Aelfred looked around the corridor. "How? We don't have a helm, Teldin. Both of the helms were destroyed." His voice was different, as if he were afraid of something. Maybe it was the cloak, the way it was glowing.

"I know about the helms," Teldin said. He tried to think of how to explain it, but couldn't. "Don't worry about it, Aelfred. I won't let us get hurt."

Aelfred knelt down, looking over the bright-pink glow of the cloak and the door covering Teldin's legs. Sylvie stood back, her eyes as large and round as plates. Aelfred was sweating, though it wasn't very warm in the hallway.

"Should I move this?" the big warrior asked. "Can you move your legs?"

"No, and no," Teldin gasped. "Oh, there's water."

"What?" Aelfred was confused. He looked up and around, trying to follow Teldin's blank gaze.

"Water," said Teldin. "We're going to land soon, very soon. There's a city on the far end of the lake. Get the crew ready."

"What about you?" Sylvie asked, her voice strained.

"I'm fine," said Teldin, though he thought he might be mistaken. He felt nothing in his legs. "Get the crew ready. We're coming down."

Aelfred got to his feet. His face was as white as a ghost's. A low, throbbing sound was starting to build through the ship. Aelfred recognized it as the sound of atmospheric reentry. With one backward look, he started up the stairs, catching Sylvie by the arm and pulling her after him.

It was easier to concentrate now that Teldin was alone. He became aware of the loud, throbbing howl building all around the ship. The decks were filled with men and women, all trying to get firm holds on the railings or bracing their backs against forward walls. Teldin could see light playing in through the ruined ceiling, a dark blue sky forming all around as the hammership fell through the air of Ironpiece. He watched the long, narrow lake ahead of the ship grow slowly. Clouds flew past. The pink of his cloak grew brighter. The ear-blasting howl was shaking the whole ship. Treetops and dirt roads raced by below; now they weren't so far away. The near edge of the lake grew wider. Down a bit. A bit more. To starboard. Down more. Down. Starboard.

Waves were visible on the lake, marching in perfect order. The wind howled in a fury all around the Probe, blasting down the ruined corridor from the ceiling and whipping Teldin's face. He felt nothing but warmth. He was bringing the hammership down to safety. His friends would be fine. The marching waves were coming up now. Closer. Closer. Closer. He was at peace. A hundred feet.

Fifty. Now-

The Probe struck the lake's surface with a thunderclap and skipped upward. Everyone on the decks screamed and clutched at railings and each other, momentarily weightless. Teldin barely heard them over the crash of the landing. The hammership dropped back and the thunderclap sounded again, nearly shattering the hull. The ship skipped up again, traveling at incredible speed. I need to slow it down, Teldin thought. We're going too fast. The ship slowed at once, fell and struck the water with a terrible sound, and everything slammed forward toward the bow, including Teldin and the door frame on his legs. Teldin could not hear the screams over the explosion of water against the hull, the shaking and battering as the ship sliced through the waves. Then cold water poured down through the ceiling in a torrent. Teldin choked, and the dream ended, and he screamed and screamed as the water rose all around him until it covered his head.

*****

"It's down!" boomed the security commander, watching from the shore. He swung his huge bulk to his left and pointed. "Squadron Twelve, fire your engines!"

Gnome pilots pulled down their goggles, flipped the starter switches on their machines, and grabbed for the leather-covered steering levers that stuck up in front of their belted seats. One by one, the giant steam-powered fans mounted in the back of each wide, flat boat thundered to life. The security commander quickly found his seat on his own boat, especially built to accommodate his immense size, and leaned toward the pilot. "Take us out!" he yelled.

The gnome pilot tugged on a cord, and an ear-splitting whistle sounded from the rear of the boat. The fan-powered vehicle lurched forward, then picked up speed as it crossed the lake's surface. The security commander fidgeted, realizing that his seat was less solid than he had hoped. It might not even be bolted down; perhaps his own weight alone kept him in place. He'd have the maintenance teams out in droves on every ship after this run, he promised himself.

His gnome pilot was waving an arm over his head. The security commander looked up and saw that the hammership had slowed but was starting to list to starboard. It had been badly damaged in some space battle. It was a miracle that it was even here at all. The forward helm room appeared to have been holed, and the port hammerhead eye was gone, ripped completely off. Human men and women were leaping into the water now, clutching at boards and debris, waving their arms wildly for rescue.

The fan boat crossed the wake from the ship's crash, slamming through the waves with several bone-jarring jolts. When the fan boat was close enough, the commander reached forward and poked the pilot hard in the back. The pilot immediately flipped the engine switch and cut the fan's power. Now, the commander could hear the voices of the hammership's crew crying out for help. He was close enough to read the ship's nameplate, too-the Probe.