“Wait!” I yell at Sam and Walker, but I’m too late.

Setrákus Ra jerks his head in the direction of the agents and Sam, like they’re an annoying bug that needs to be swatted. With the hand not holding Ella, Setrákus Ra produces that three-headed whip of his from where it’s hidden under his torn uniform. Before he can lash out at them, the agents and Sam open fire.

I can’t believe what I’m about to do.

I stop the bullets in midair with my telekinesis. I’m not sure if they would have even penetrated Setrákus Ra’s armor, but I can’t risk it. I don’t let Sam and the others have a chance to realize all their shots have missed. Instead, I shove the entire group backwards with my telekinesis. Not hard enough to hurt them, but hard enough to knock them over some of the broken stage debris. It’s also enough to put them out of range of Setrákus Ra’s whip. I’ll apologize later.

Setrákus Ra doesn’t give the agents a second look. The brief distraction was all he needed to reach the steps of his ship ahead of me. He bounds up them, dragging Ella along behind him, and disappears into the vessel.

I sprint forward, determined not to let him escape. The ship begins to rise up before the staircase has fully folded back into its smooth body.

I can still catch them. I can still stop him. I’m so close.

I dive forward and manage to grab the bottom step with my good hand.

The ship continues to rise while the steps recede back towards the open doorway. They pull me closer towards Setrákus Ra and Ella, even as the ship rises farther away from the Earth. I swing one of my legs up so that I’m hooked around the bottom step. Soon, we’re almost a hundred feet in the air, getting closer and closer to the warship above.

The steps fold up like an accordion into a panel at the base of the ship’s entrance. I push off the step I’d been grasping before I’m crushed in the mechanism and lunge for the open doorway. It isn’t easy to do with only one good arm. I end up hanging from the doorway’s edge, my good arm starting to feel hyperextended. My legs dangle above what is now a two-hundred-foot drop.

Setrákus Ra stands over me. His three-headed whip dangles in my face, the tips alive with crackling fire. I don’t think he plans to pull me the rest of the way in.

I catch a glimpse of Ella through his legs. She’s slouched in one of the cockpit’s chairs, looking totally sedated. I won’t be getting any help from her.

“John Smith, isn’t it?” Setrákus Ra asks conversationally. “Thank you for the help down there.”

“I wasn’t trying to help you.”

“But you did, regardless. That is one reason why I will let you live.”

I grimace. My grip slips a little. I need to come up with a play soon. It’s hard to chuck a fireball with one arm dislocated and the other holding on for dear life. It’ll have to be my telekinesis. Maybe if I can push him back . . .