The tree shuddered again. The bass background roar continued, a sound like worlds ripping apart. Bark slid past Gavving; the red-haired corpse tumbled, fl~i1ing. He was scrambling for a foothold when someone came at him from the side.

Dark hair, lovely pale heart-shaped face-purple clothing. Gavving thrust a harpoon at her eyes.

"The fire!" Thanya screamed. "It'll block us from the tuft! We've got to get past it!" She blew jet pods and was skimming outward across the bark.

Minya heard, but she didn't pause. Smitta was dead, and Sal was dead, and a single invader boy had killed them both. Minya stalked him.

The boy wore scarlet clothing, citizen's garb; his blond hair curled tightly as a skullcap; his beard was barely visible. His face was set in a rictus of fear or killing-rage. He thrust at her, threw himself back from

her sword's counterthrust, lost his toe-grip on the bark. For an instant Minya was minded to go after him. Pierce him, kill him for the honor of Sal's triad, then go!

There wasn't time. Thanya was right. The fire could block them all, maroon them away from Dalton-Quinn Tuft . . . and there was Sal's bow to be recovered. Minya whirled and leapt away, and fired a jet pod for extra speed.

Sal's corpse floated free, her dead hand clutching the tribal treasure. Behind Minya the blond youth gripped bark to set himself and hurled his hand-arrow. Minya kicked to alter her course and watched the weapon whisper past her. She turned back as a shape popped up directly in front of her.

The shape was wrong, not human. It froze her for an instant. Minya hadn't quite grasped what was happening when a fist exploded in her face.

Gavving had ignored the yells from the purple-clad women. Now two were fleeing, firing jet pods to carry them outward along the trunk.

Another leapt in a zigzag pattern along the bark. But the dark-haired woman who had tried to kill him was now moving crosswise, back to where Gavving had left . . . left a burly red-haired corpse clutching a curve of silver metal.

Merril popped out of a crack just in front of her. Merril's fist smacked into the stranger's jaw with a sound Gavving heard even above the-

-bass ripping sound he'd been ignoring while he fought for his life: a sound like the sky tearing apart. Now he heard the Grad shrilling like a cricket, a sound of panic, the words drowned in the roar.

But Gavving didn't need to hear. He knew.

"Clave! Claaave!"

Clave popped out of a deep crack and shouted, "Ready. What do you need?"

"We have to jump!" the Grad screamed. "All of us!"

"What are you talking about?"

"The tree's coming apart! That's how they survive!"

"What?"

"Get everyone to jump clear!"

dave looked around. Jiovan was dead, floating tethered, but dead.

The Grad was already loose in the sky, with line coiled! Gavving...