The crowd in the stands surged to their feet.

A handful of figures stumbled through a gate into the open sand.

A distant bugle sounded.

With that cue, Horus bellowed from his post at the rudder, “Drop her beak! Let her dive!”

“Hold tight!” Djer warned.

Jake and Nefertiti obeyed as the prow of the ship tilted at a precarious angle. The constant roar of the balloon’s furnace died. A silence spread across the ship—then the windrider dropped earthward again, diving like a hunting hawk.

Wind ripped across the decks. A barrel, poorly tied, broke free, rolled across the middeck, and crashed into splinters. Horus manned the rudder with one arm, pushing hard to turn their plummet into a circling dive.

Jake held tight to a strut of the railing as his ears popped and wind screamed in his ears. He should have thought to grab his earplugs from his backpack; but the pack was strapped behind him, and he wasn’t about to let go.

Their only hope was the element of surprise. And for that to work, the attack had to be lightning fast. Jake twisted to see a squad of five men hunched to either side of the middeck. Secured to their backs were folded sets of wings.

Skyriders.

Jake continued to hold his breath. It seemed as if they were dropping forever when it was likely less than a minute. At any moment he expected to crash into the ground and shatter as surely as that loose barrel had.

Then Horus shouted, his voice full of wind and verve, “On my mark! Steady the keel, boys! Now!”

With a great creaking, the ship’s prow lifted. Jake felt his stomach crash into his boots. The wings to either side shuddered, shaking the entire ship. Then the furnace blasted with fire, stabbing deeply into the balloon. The black rubber skin glowed a dark ruby. Jake expected it to burst into flames.

But it held.

The Breath of Shu steadied into an even spiral.

Jake risked poking his head between the struts of the railing. The windrider glided five stories above the arena. People had flattened to the ground in terror at the unexpected arrival. Cries and shouts echoed up to the ship.

Then horns blared from outside the stadium, coming from the west.

Jake pictured Grymhorst’s force attacking the guards, all to buy them enough time to snatch the prisoners off the sand.

Jake stood up and leaned over the rail. Marika, Pindor, and Bach’uuk were running across the sand. They carried cudgels and spears. Kady, armed with her sword, helped a limping Shaduf flee in the opposite direction.

Jake searched the sand, trying to see what frightened them. But the field was empty. Had the ship’s arrival scared them, too? Jake leaned farther out. But none of his friends were even staring up. Instead they were staring down.

As Jake watched, a large fin crested out of the sand.

“Sand shark,” Nefertiti exclaimed. “With skin like stone, it’s almost impossible to kill.”