Firestorm by Mark Robson

weapon sticking out of the dragon’s thigh,
his heart sank. Would Fang be able to fly?
    Then they were airborne and climbing, and Elian saw Kasau with two other hunters, watching them. Even though they were a good distance away, Elian fancied he could see Kasau’s expression
of frustration. As they gained height, they circled back towards the woods. They passed over the treetops safely above the reach of the most powerful of bows. As they did so, Aurora drew in
alongside them and the two dragons turned north.
    ‘
Are you all right, Elian?’
    ‘I’m fine, thanks, Ra,’
he thought back.
‘But Fang’s hurt. Can you tell how bad it is?’
    ‘It’s not good. The weapon moves in the wound with every wingbeat. He’s in a lot of pain.’
    ‘Is there anything we can do?’
Elian asked anxiously.
    ‘We? No, but there are those who can,’
Ra answered. ‘
For now Fang will concentrate on getting as far from the hunters as he can. There will be time to arrange healing
later.’
    ‘While I was escaping with Kira there was a flood of light. What did you do?’
he asked.
    ‘Let’s just say that I gave the hunters a glimpse of my full glory,’
Ra replied cryptically.
    Hearing Ra’s thoughts was reassuring. Despite her obvious concern for Fang’s wound, she sounded unflustered. Her calm, matter-of-fact voice in his head gave Elian a warm feeling of
safety, though he knew they were not out of danger yet.
    The dragons beat a measured time with their wings, and the further they flew, the more Elian’s heart soared. The wind-rush in his ears and the feel of it combing his hair felt even more
special today than it had on his first flight. They did not climb very high, as neither Kira nor Elian were dressed to survive the cold. It seemed to Elian that they were flying faster than they
had yesterday. At their current speed he felt they should be safe from the hunters in quick time.
    ‘It’s a visual illusion, Elian,’
Ra explained.
‘When we were up high your field of view was far greater. Down here we cannot see as far, so the ground appears
to rush past faster. We’re actually flying far slower than we did the other day.’
    ‘Oh, right. I see,’
Elian replied, feeling rather foolish.
    After a short while he tapped Kira on the shoulder, thinking to thank her properly. She twisted to see what he wanted.
    It was the first time Elian had seen Kira’s face clearly. Instantly, he realised she was a tribes-woman. Four circular white paint dots described a shallow concave arc under each of her
eyes. Below the dots a diagonal slash of bright red paint ran downwards and outwards across her cheeks. Elian did not know enough about the southern tribes to identify the markings. Her thick black
hair was drawn back and plaited. Deep brown eyes framed by long dark lashes regarded him with an expectant gaze.
    ‘Kira, I just wanted to say thank you,’ he began. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t more help. I owe you.’
    ‘Don’t thank me,’ she replied. ‘I didn’t want to get involved. Fang insisted. Now he’s hurt. Do you know that when your dragon is hurt, you feel his pain?
I’m beginning to understand exactly what being a dragonrider means.’ Her voice held no warmth.
    ‘No, I didn’t know the bond worked that way. I’m sorry. Have you been with Fang long?’ Elian realised as soon the question left his lips that he was asking the obvious,
and he mentally kicked himself. In her current mood, Kira’s reaction was predictable and instant.
    ‘What do you think?’ she snapped. ‘Do I look like I’m an old hand? If you must know, I first met with him about ten days ago.’
    ‘Then you
are
an old hand,’ Elian said, with a grin meant to disarm. ‘I only met Ra two days ago.’
    Kira ignored his peace effort, her eyes going distant. Her voice was cold with bitterness as she continued. ‘I kept our bonding a secret for two days, but it couldn’t last.
Eventually Fang insisted I leave to find something called the