The nose-arm legs tumbled loose within a cloud of burning coals. One haunch was in reach. Gavving caught a line to pull it free of the coals, then jumped to catch it against his shoulder. Hot grease burned his neck. He yelled and thrust himself away.,

Now what? He couldn't think in this end-of-the-world roar. He doffed his backpack, tied it against the nose-arm leg, braced against the pack, and pushed himself into the sky.

Clouds of insects and pulverized wood half hid the shuddering, thundering tree. Dagger-sized splinters flew past.

Gavving braced one of his jet pods against the pack and twisted the tip. Seeds and cold gas blasted past him. The pod ripped itself free of his hands, spat seeds into the flesh of his face, and was gone.

His hands shook. Beads of blood were pooling on his cheek and his neck. He dug out his remaining jet pod and tried again, his tongue between his teeth. This time the pod held steady until it had gone quiet

The world came apart.

He watched it all while his terror changed to awe. Fiery wind swept past him and left him in the open sky. Two fireballs receded in and out, until the home tree had become two bits of fluff linked by an infinite line of smoke.

Awesome! Nobody could hope to live through a bigger disaster. All ofQuinnThbemustbedead. . . theideawasreallytoobigtograsp

all but dave's citizens, and they'd lost Jiovan too, and who was left? He looked about him.

Nobody?

A cluster of specks, far out.

He'd used both his jet pods, and now he was lost in the sky. At least he wouldn't starve.

Thrashing his arms didn't stop the Grad's spin. He wasn't willing to use his jet pods for only that. He settled for spreading his arms and legs like a limpet star, which slowed him enough to search for survivors.

The left side of his face was wet. His fingertips traced a bloody gash that ran from temple to chin. It didn't hurt. Shock? But he had worse to worry him.

Three human shapes tumbled slowly nearby: purple marked with scarlet His stomach lurched. It was their own doing; he hadn't come here to kill.

The giant fan fungus floated free, turning, turning to reveal dave clutching the stalk. Good. Clave still wore his backpack: very good.

That was their store of fresh jet pods. Then why wasn't dave doing something about rescue?

Feet outward, Jayan and Jinny rotated slowly around their two pairs of clasped hands. It looked almost like a dance. Spreading out like that greatly reduced their spin. Good thinking, and no sign of panic.

Merril was a fair distance in. Her arms hadn't pushed her far, and the tree's wind-wake had caught her.

The world's-end roar had dwindled, allowing lesser sounds. The Grad heard a thin wail. Alfin had leapt free after all. He was thrashing and spinning and crying, but he was safe.