I spun at the unexpected roar of cannons from our port broadsides. A second later, the airship hovering over the Salamander exploded and crumpled like paper, crashing into the center of the Salamander’s burning deck. A blinding white flash flickered across the water, and a moment after, the guns on the White Streak fired a second time.
“Cease fire!” I screamed, voice shrill, over the clamor of fighting that spilled across the deck and the dying echo of the guns. I began running toward the cannon batteries, my bad hip lancing pain. “Cease fire! Who gave the order to fire on our own ship?”
Rohm staggered up to me out of the flickering light of the fires still burning across our own deck. His face was streaked with ash and blood, but none of it seemed to be his. “Vimr,” he said, a shadow ac
