Chapter 104
The corridor stops at a broad, flat space. The angels stop, too, blocking the way back, but no longer pushing us forward. The crew mills around, voices rising. I push my way through, glaring at the angels. “All right, we’re rotting here,” I tell them. “Now what?” Blue crystal eyes stare back at me. Then, with a groan like a dying whale, the skin of the ship starts to open. A huge flap of bow folds down, turning itself into a ramp. It strikes the dock with a sharp clang, and the groan stops. I take a deep breath—the salt-and-rust smell of the ship is cut by something else, the earthy scent of trees and soil. The angels shuffle forward. An arm comes down and pushes me, very gently. Marvel catches my eye, her arms full of telescope. She gives me a brave smile. “I think we get off.” VEE
- Writer
