The goblin mages kept up the pressure, pushing the boat away from them. I had no choice; I let the boat go, releasing it slowly to minimize the damage. Still the boat lurched in the goblin mages’ collective grip. The planks were coming apart. Dammit to hell. Which was exactly where a good part of the harbor was going to be blown to.

The recoil from even a slow release of my magic threw three of the goblin mages backward like dolls. Even though I was no longer holding on to the boat’s stern, I felt the hull shudder and the wood crack under the pressure. If one of those planks snapped the wrong way, the impact against those kegs would—

The world exploded.

I grabbed Phaelan, hit the dock, and threw the best shield I had around us both. I didn’t know if it’d hold if a chunk of ship came flying at us, but there was no time to run, and we couldn’t get far enough fast enough.

Phaelan covered his head—like that was going to help—and laid out a string of curses that’d make his crew proud. I confess I joined him for a few seconds.

The aftermath wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it was bad enough. Other pilot boats abandoned their escort charges and became rescue vessels. There were people in the water and once the debris finally stopped raining down, the screams and shouts started. The mass of people on the shoreline had more than doubled.

Great, just great.

Flaming debris had started fires on the decks of at least four vessels, and at least one of them had been carrying something extremely flammable, judging from the panicked activity on deck and some crewmen diving over the side into the harbor.