“I saw them,” Carson replied as quietly. He lifted his paddle from the water, and Sedric did the same. “Hold tight. They may try to overturn us, but these boats don’t flip too easily.” He glanced back at the lagging Spit and shook his head ruefully. “Little bastard is using us as chum, to lure the gallators away from cover. That’s nice, Spit, real nice.” He took a slow, steady breath. “Hold tight to the seat, not the sides. You don’t want any part of your body outside the boat. Move as little as you can. The less alive and meaty we look, the better.”

Sedric quickly shifted his grip. They sat still, waiting. There was a tentative bump against the bottom of the boat. Sedric tightened his grip on the seat, felt his nails press against the hard wood. Carson was turned on his seat, watching him, a tense grin on his face. A short fishing spear was in his hand. Sedric moistened his lips and felt a second, harder bump, followed by a sideways push. Carson mouthed the words “Be still” at him. That wasn’t a problem. He felt too scared to move.

Then came an impact that lifted Sedric’s end of the boat out of the water. It settled with a splash and at the same moment, a gallator struck it from the side. The boat tipped far enough to ship some water, but righted itself. The gallator surged at the boat again but could not get its squat-necked head into it. Carson reared back and, with a huff of effort, sank the fishing spear into the thing’s neck. It gave a gurgled squeal and fell back into the water. The slime it had left on the side of the boat stank.

“Hang on TIGHT!” Carson’s terse warning came just in time. Sedric tightened his grip just as the boat was struck from the other side. His body whipped with the impact, and nearly slammed him against the toxic slime oozing down the side of the boat. A buffet of wind hit them, and then a tremendous splash of water. It soaked Sedric and added more water to what was already in the boat.