With the passage of the airship, the smoke of the Hounds’ appearance had been scoured from the air, and as the wind died down, once more the stadium was lit by little more than the glow of the city night. The swarm of dritches had passed, happily wiggling their huge carcasses back through the continuum threshold to their home world. At least they had had a good night.
I pushed myself to my feet and started down the stairs. All over the field people ran, some still trying to escape, some calling for help, some stooped over motionless bodies, and parts of bodies. There were wails of agony and grief, and a rising chorus of approaching sirens. No one paid me any notice as I reached the ground level and searched for Dad among the dead and the living, avoiding the gaping pits and the mounds of
