Firestorm (16 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Tying Nolita onto Elian’s saddle was no easy task. The poor girl had spent a most uncomfortable night, much as Elian had in the dragonhunters’ camp. She came to as
they were tying her up and struggled fiercely until Kira quieted her by threatening her with a knife. They did not make Nolita’s bonds quite as painfully tight as Elian’s had been, but
they took every precaution to stop her escaping.

As soon as she realised what Elian and Kira intended to do, and despite having her hands tied behind her back, she fought like a wildcat – kicking, biting and spitting the entire time. It
was only Ra’s intervention that made it possible to get her into the saddle. Twisting her head around on her long neck, Ra gave Nolita a close-up view of her impressive rows of teeth. Two
heartbeats later she had passed out again.

‘Thanks, Ra,’ Elian grunted gratefully, heaving the girl’s limp body up and into position.

‘You’re going to have to hurry, Elian. We don’t have a lot of time until dawn. We only have a very narrow window of opportunity.’

‘I know, I know! Kira, give me a hand here, please? Ra’s chivvying me up, but I can’t do this on my own. Here – I’ll hold her and you tie her in
position.’

Kira did the best she could. The result was not very elegant, but Elian doubted he could have done any better. Kira looked at her handiwork and shook her head.

‘You’re going to have trouble if she starts to panic,’ she said doubtfully. ‘Are you going to be all right with her like this?’

‘I don’t exactly have a lot of choice, do I? It’s almost dawn. Ra tells me there’s no time for my softly softly approach. We’ve got to go, so let’s get it
over with.’

‘Good luck,’ she said simply.

Elian watched her as she made her way across to Fang and climbed up onto his back. Kira was still an enigma to him. Her parting words had sounded as genuine as any he had heard her say since
they had met, but he still felt she had little regard for his opinion or his abilities. What would it take for him to gain her respect?

Nolita stirred in front of him. Elian put his arms around her and pulled her into a sitting position. Aurora’s leaping run forwards snapped Nolita awake in an instant. Her first reaction
was to scream and struggle to break Elian’s hold.

‘Don’t be a fool!’ he yelled in her ear as Ra continued to accelerate. ‘If you fall, you’ll spend the flight dangling upside down. You’re tied on. I’m
not. If I feel us slipping, I’m going to let you fall so I can hold on. Is that what you want?’

Nolita tensed in his arms. She stopped writhing, but continued to scream. Every fibre of her body felt taut to breaking point as they launched into the air. He did not have to hear the terror in
her screams to feel her panic and fear. The emotions were projecting from her like an aura. He also felt the moment when Nolita first saw the gateway. He thought it impossible for her to stiffen
any further, but she did. He could not see her face, but he could imagine her wide eyes at the sight of the swirling vortex hanging over the middle of the lake.

As they entered the vortex, the overload of emotion was too much for Nolita. She went limp again. This was just as well, as the twisting wrench of emergence was followed instantly by a blast of
the coldest air Elian had yet experienced. Nolita was not dressed for extreme cold. They would have to descend quickly, or she would die of exposure.

It was full daylight here.

‘Why have we emerged so high?’ Elian called aloud as he looked down in astonishment at the vast drop beneath them. The air felt thin and he could tell that his breathing rate had
instinctively increased.

‘I don’t know,’
Ra replied. She sounded puzzled.
‘I followed my dragonsense. This is where it brought us. There must be a reason
. . .
wait a heartbeat
– look out!’

‘What? Why?’

A sudden staccato stuttering noise was followed by the droning whine of one of the strange flying machines. It was not alone. Three more of the contraptions scattered around the dragons,
manoeuvring hard to avoid a collision.

‘Ow!’
Ra exclaimed.
‘Whatever they’re spitting from those machines hurts a lot more than the muskets did. We had better get away from here fast. If one of those
things hits you or the girls, it won’t be pleasant.’

Elian felt the stinging impacts through the link with Ra and winced. Ra did not appear to be hurt badly, but the sensation was uncomfortable. He craned his neck around to see where the hostile
machines had gone.

‘Another one!’

Elian instinctively ducked as another machine roared past just above their heads, but there was no spitting of weapons this time – at least not in their direction. The newcomer seemed to
be chasing the other machines. He’s either incredibly brave, or very stupid, Elian thought. He watched, fascinated, a strange sense of horror creeping over him as the late arrival ignored the
four-to-one odds and began to spit fire and death at one of the other strange-looking contraptions.

Jack gritted his teeth and jutted out his chin. Without any thought for the odds he eased his aircraft into a dive, aiming it like a bowling ball at a rack of skittles.

As his aircraft picked up speed, so the wind began to sing in the wires. Down, down, down he went, plunging towards the enemy formation like a sparrowhawk diving at its prey. The four German
Albatrosses were firmly in his sights and closing fast . . . then it happened. One moment the aircraft were in formation, the next they were scattering as three huge shapes materialised from
nowhere.

Jack swore, wrenching the yoke to the left. ‘What the . . .?’

There was no denying it this time. The shapes were unmistakably dragons. But where had they appeared from and what were they doing here? He watched in fascination as the leader of the enemy
formation opened fire on a gold-coloured dragon in the lead of the ‘V formation of creatures. It was probably an instinctive reaction, Jack realised. Given the same situation, his first
thought would have been to pull the trigger as well, but he was still some distance away and therefore had more thinking time. He saw the enemy aircraft’s tracer rounds find their target, but
to his amazement the creature seemed unaffected.

The grey beast to the golden one’s right vanished again. It was uncanny. One second it was there, the next it was gone. Jack did not want to think about how it had disappeared. It defied
logic.

He was almost on top of the mess of aircraft and flying creatures by now. The dragons had split up the formation for him. Twisting and turning through the mêlée, he adjusted his
course to keep the leader’s aircraft in sight, deliberately diving behind and underneath him. Easing out of his rapid descent he zoomed back up again, closing the distance rapidly until he
was no more than thirty feet beneath the tail of the lead adversary’s aircraft.

For a moment he felt sorry for the enemy pilot. The man was blind to the danger approaching. Jack’s tactics gave his opponent little chance at this point, but he consoled himself that this
was what war was all about. Angling his machine gun upwards as far as the mounting would allow, he opened fire. At the same time he pitched his aircraft gently up and down in a quick series of
oscillations. It felt rather like driving a motor car at speed along a road with a succession of gentle bumps – uncomfortable, but the effect was to spray multiple lines of bullets along the
length of the underside of the enemy machine.

One long burst and Jack knew instinctively that he had added another victory to his growing tally. He turned hard to the left as the stricken aircraft rolled, a plume of black smoke trailing
from the engine as it entered a dive from which there would be no recovery. But Jack had no sooner entered a turn than an incoming line of bullets tore through his own wings . . .

The enemy formation had split, but had not run far. A quick glance around revealed two of the three remaining aircraft attacking from different directions. The third aircraft was not in sight.
Maybe it’s gone after the dragons, he thought. Never thought I’d be saying
that
to myself! He almost chuckled aloud, then there was another rattle of gunfire, this time from
beneath him. A wire pinged loose, thrashing in the airflow as more bullets clattered through his machine. He had been wrong. The third enemy pilot had not followed the dragons. He was looking to
turn the tables and catch Jack at his own game.

Where are the dragons now? he wondered. He had lost sight of them. But he had enough problems already, what with three foes, all determined to avenge their leader; and a host of bullet holes
through his wings.

He reversed his turn, rolling hard and pulling his aircraft around to the right. One of his opponents was thrown temporarily out of position, as he found himself forced to avoid a collision with
his wingman. Another reversal, and Jack managed to fire a short burst at one of the enemy aircraft. He missed, but he was heartened to know that even though his enemies held the advantage in both
numbers and position, he was still able to show his teeth.

None of the aircraft could maintain their height above the ground whilst making turns at high angles of bank. They were all losing altitude fast, but they were still many thousands of feet above
the lines. The fight was becoming rather more ugly than he had anticipated. Without another quick kill, his chances of survival were low.

Minutes passed in a blur that might equally have been an eternity. Jack fought with cool guile, yet his blood burned with the fiery heat that only a fierce, sustained rush of adrenaline could
bring. Time and again he outmanoeuvred one of his opponents and gained a killing position, only to be forced to break off his attack as bullets struck his machine from another quarter.

Thousands of feet had been lost during the ferocious, wheeling fight and the ground was looming large and green beneath him. Throughout the battle he never lost track of his position. The
prevailing wind was doing its best to force him over the lines, but he had worked doggedly to ensure he remained over friendly ground. It was good that he had, for, with no warning, his gun jammed
mid-burst. With no weapon, and his aircraft peppered with bullet holes, his only chance of survival was to run and land as soon as he could. A cloud loomed to his left and he turned towards it,
weaving as he went. A glance over his shoulder and he realised that all three enemy aircraft were hot on his tail. Too late, he saw that the cloud was not substantial enough to offer him a means of
escape.

The rattle of multiple guns from behind decided it. With gritted teeth, he hauled his little scout aircraft into a gut wrenching turn to the right. If he was going down, he was determined to
take one of them with him.

‘They could kill him at any heartbeat, Ra,’
Elian projected, his heart thumping as he watched Jack’s fight from above.
‘He stopped them from
attacking us again. We’ve got to help him.’

‘No!’
Ra responded immediately.
‘We should not interfere with the events in this world unless we absolutely have to. You don’t know for certain he was doing it
to help us. He might have intended to attack them regardless of our appearance. We need to land somewhere in secret. We cannot have large numbers of people here knowing of our
existence.’

‘Why not?’
he asked.
‘Your dragonsense brought us here. I thought dragonsense led you everywhere for a reason. Why would it bring us here just to run and hide? That
makes no sense.’

‘Dragonsense is not specific,’
Ra explained.
‘We are meant to be here, but what we should do whilst we are here is not so clear.’

‘If you’re worried about people seeing dragons, there’s at least four in those flying machines who’ve already had a good look at us. Don’t you think
they’ll tell others?’
Elian argued, determined to make his point.

‘Dragons should only fight for a just cause. We cannot be certain who is in the right here – if either side is,’
Ra replied, dodging the question.
‘He picked
this fight. He must finish it.’

Elian watched, barely able to breathe, as the four aircraft circled, dived and weaved their intricate aerial ballet beneath him. The fight was not going well for the lone flier. He controlled
his machine with great skill, frustrating his opponents time and again with his clever manoeuvres. Slowly, but surely, however, they were gaining the upper hand.

‘Look into his mind, Ra,’ Elian shouted suddenly, unable to watch any more without doing something. ‘Tell me what you see.’

‘Oh, very well,’
she said, her tone resigned.
‘If it will make you feel better.’
There was a pause.
‘Strange . .
.’ she said
thoughtfully.

‘What?’

‘It’s the same man who saw us last time we were here. There’s something about a familiar mind that makes it instantly recognisable.’
She paused again as she
considered the implications of this discovery.