---
Alka didn't ask. She dropped her head. Her beak slid under the belly of the shell with a scrape that made teeth ache. She levered. The shell rose an inch. Two. Three. She got her beak under the middle, clamped, and lifted.
Kai felt the world move. He could not tense. He could not help. He could only trust her.
Azhara grabbed Alka's feathered wings and hauled herself up, one knife in her teeth, one in her hand. Skyweaver jumped and grabbed with both hands where feathers turned to leather near the wing root. Her wings buzzed once and helped her climb.
"Up!" Alka grunted around the weight. She launched. Wings beat. Sand blew. Spears reached up and scraped plates and caught nothing. The shell left the ground. Three stars jumped and missed. A four-star threw a rope and caught nothing but air.
