But another figure had landed there before me, a giant, fluttering bird. Sonya jumped from it, seized Altho’s bound body. Talon’s small flash darted at her, but missed.
My wrecked platform, half on the boat’s stern, weighed it down. The boat began to fill with water.
I saw vaguely as I leaped at Talon, that Sonya was dragging Altho’s inert form to the gunwale. They went overboard together. My hurtling body struck the head of Talon. It cracked, smashed under my weight. I climbed from its noisome, sticky mass.
The boat was filling, sinking stern first. I dove over its side, into the wave-whipped sea.
The sinking boat sucked me under. But I came up. Around me was a white, tumultuous darkness. Overhead the storm clouds had broken into a rift; the yellow moonlight came through. Something was floating near me, some wreckage from the boat, a gas-filled pontoon. I seized it.
Behind me, our boat from the island was approaching. Then I saw, upraised near me by a surging wave-crest, a human figure struggling. Sonya, struggling to keep Altho above the water. I reached them.
“Sonya! Here, hold to this! I’ve got him!”
A sea animal went by us with a rush. Our pursuing boat drew up; its black side was a wall above us. The insulating side-shield rolled back. Anxious men’s faces stared down at us over the gunwale. Arms came down and hauled us up.
I heard Alice’s voice; and Dolores’s, “Len! And Sonya . . . and the prince! Thank God you’re all safe!”
And from far over the land came the scream of Jim’s siren, the signal of victory there.