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."
Seawater bubbled around the serpentine bowl. It
remained lashed to the deck, though the mainmast yard had
fallen across it. Steam billowed up as the hot water touched
the cool stone.
"Will that float?" Jermina asked, pointing to the
sacramental bowl.
"Float? Maybe. It's light for its size, but why - ?" "Come
on!" She seized his arm and dragged him along. They had to
wade in ankle-deep blood-red water to reach the bowl.
Dunvane was almost numb with shock. "Hopeless," he
muttered, but he let Jermina carry him along.
They managed to climb into the gigantic serpentine bowl.
Jermina snatched the captain's knife from his belt and tried
to hack through the lashings. They were too thick, and she
made little progress. At last, Dunvane took the knife from
her and set to work. Jermina reached out and snagged a boat
hook floating nearby.
When the last line parted, the bowl was free of the ship.
Jermina pushed them away with the boat hook. The bowl
slid off the canted deck and into the water. The rushing
current caught them.
They huddled in the bottom of the sacramental bowl,
clinging to each other. The stone's fireproof properties
protected them from the heat of the water, but the low sides
let gouts of hot spray wash over them. The maelstrom spun
them in tighter and tighter spirals toward the huge column
of smoke and flame in its heart. Other wreckage crashed
into them. The roaring of the rushing water filled their ears.
They coughed and gasped in the fiery, choking air
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