There is a tender spot on the back of my scalp and splinters in my palms and a throb in my neck. But for now, I am safe. The cabbages underneath me are smooth stones; the tarp overhead is a tent to keep out trouble. Time blurs. My early wake-up this morning blends with all the tension and action and high emotion of the past hours, lulling me into a trance, pushing my worries into the background. I sleep. When I am jolted awake, at first I don’t know what has woken me. My fingertips are tingling and my ears are ringing. My wide eyes gobble up my strange surroundings. This cocoon of blue, this warm nest, with the soothing pitter-patter just inches from my face—what is all this? For long seconds, my mind is an empty wall. It is all starting to come back to me when a sound rips through my mind. It’s some kind of horn, I can tell right away, but like nothing I have heard before. This must be what awoke me from my sleep. The sound is low and guttural, and seems to come from deep in the belly of this great ship-beast I am riding, merging sound and smoke and grinding gears into one earth-shaking noise that sets my whole body trembling.
