IT WAS LIKE hitting a squishy balloon. Going as fast as I was, I sank deep into it, as if I'd hit a bouncy castle face-first and vertically. My head was pressed against a thick, smooth film, and for several horrible moments I had the feeling of being smothered, my wings bent painfully back. Then, boing! I bounced out of it, arms and legs flailing wildly, my stalled wings causing me to drop quickly before I could catch myself.
What the heck?!
It had literally bounced me back about sixty feet, and from this distance I could see that it was a huge, clear, weird thing. It was practically invisible, and I realized with shock that there were hundreds of these balloon-type things, each one as big as a city bus. They were all tethered to the ground below by hairlike, glistening metal wires.
Cautiously I got a little closer, and then zzzip! The tip of one of my wings brushed a wire, which sliced the ends off some of my primary feathers. It didn't hit skin or bone, but it went through my feathers like they were tissue paper.
It seems the glistening was caused by diamond dust. These wires were designed to slice things—
I whirled, waving my arms at the jet, which was approaching fast, hoping Angel would tune in to my thoughts
Angel! Get Jeb to swerve! This place is booby-trapped!
Angel looked out the window at me, then rushed to the cockpit, yelling.
But it was too late—the plane flew right into the sea of wires.
Almost immediately, one of the engines sucked a balloon-type thing into its intake, and boom! There was a huge explosion and a fireball twenty feet across. The force threw me back, heat searing my face and wings. I backpedaled quickly as several other balloons exploded, tossing the jet to and fro.
Then the wires did to the battered, burned plane what they had done to my feathers. They sheared off the jet's metal wings, like a hot knife through butter.
Can a plane fly without wings? Not so much.
