The anchor kept falling.
Maelin caught it with the ribs inside her body.
Her feet left the bay floor. Clear roots stretched from her open side to the oldest black wall, holding her between the broken anchor and the guildhall it was dragging down.
Kessa reached for her.
"Open the flight walls," Maelin said.
"You are coming with us."
"Then open them somewhere I can land."
Kessa's hand remained out for one furious breath. Another drop threw a row of molt cages against their stops, and living wings beat inside the dark.
She turned away from Maelin.
"Both flight walls!" Kessa shouted. "Break the lower stalls. Nothing stays tethered."
Hunters moved at last.
Blades entered hinges rather than throats. Black-glass stall fronts opened one after another. Small stormmews scrambled over boots, biting any hand that offered to carry them. A clear-backed kite slipped through Kessa's arms before she could decide whether it needed help.
Maelin heard the bite and laughed once.
