CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
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I’m telling a terrible story,
But it doesn’t diminish my glory. . . .
—Ibid, Act I
I grabbed Bas by his good arm and followed the men down the hill toward the town, swearing like mad to myself as we stumbled and slipped on rocks. Another blast rocked the island, this time slightly more distant. A huge fireball lit the night sky, illuminating for a few seconds the far arm of the harbor, where one of the makeshift forts was located.
“We’re bein’ attacked?” Bas asked as we raced down the hill as fast as we could.
“Yes. Those were the big land guns going. Bart must have rigged them to blow up so we couldn’t use them to defend ourselves,” I answered in between ragged gasps for air.
“Why is Bart attackin’ us?” he asked. I glared at him for a moment, annoyed t
