Firestorm

by Mark Robson

  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.

  ‘Didn’t you say that dragonsense led dragons to pivotal moments in history, Ra? What if this is one of those pivotal moments? We can’t ignore it. It’s too much of a coincidence.’

  ‘Perhaps you’re right, Elian,’ she admitted. ‘Perhaps we are meant to help him after all.’

  ‘Well, whatever we’re going to do, we need to do it now,’ Elian urged. ‘They could kill him in a hear
tbeat.’

  ‘Very well. Hold on tight. I’ll co-ordinate the others.’

  Holding on to Nolita suddenly became a major challenge as Ra folded her wings and entered a steep dive. The wind tore at them with bitter claws as they accelerated. Elian’s mind flashed back to his fall from the Devil’s Finger. We must be approaching a similar speed, he thought. With his arms wrapped around Nolita’s waist, he hung on with all his might.

  Firestorm dived with them, and to his other side Elian could just make out Kira plunging on a parallel course. They were not diving directly at the circling fight, but appeared to be positioning a cloud between them and the wheeling machines. Gradually extending her wings again, Ra began to pitch out of the dive. Elian’s muscles screamed as Nolita’s weight seemed to increase and the force acting on his own body pressed him hard against Ra’s back.

  As they reached level flight the pressure suddenly reduced, but Elian did not have time to feel relief before they plunged into a wall of freezing white moisture. Needles of cold stabbed his face and, as they burst free from the cloud, he realised he had been holding his breath.

  The man whom they had come to help had banked his machine into a tight turn towards his enemies in what looked a suicidal manoeuvre. As a result his machine was belly up to the approaching dragons, leaving him blind to their approach.

  Ra dipped beneath the friendly aircraft before bumping back up to fly head to head with the three hostile machines. The disconcerting rattle of weapons began again and Elian heard slivers of death whizz past him in a deadly stream. He felt more stabs of pain through his link with Ra as some of the enemy weapons struck Ra on her chest, neck and wings.

  They were closing fast on the enemy. He crouched as low to Ra’s back as Nolita’s unconscious body allowed. Suddenly Ra seemed to bounce and there was a terrifying crunch. It was all Elian could do to hold Nolita in place. He heard the roar of Firestorm’s flaming breath and felt a momentary flash of heat – then it was over. Ra’s normal, rhythmic wingbeat began again and Elian sat up, heart beating wildly, as they entered a gentle turn. Looking down and back, he saw the fragmented remains of two machines tumbling through the air below, with a third spinning out of control trailing fire and black smoke. Ra and Fang had literally ripped two of the machines apart, while Firestorm had torched the third.

  A sudden feeling of responsibility swept over him. Ra and the other dragons had destroyed the machines at his request. Suddenly he wondered about the men who had flown them. They were now either dead or falling to their deaths because of his decision. It was a sobering thought. If he had not been so sure he had made the right decision, it would have been easy to feel guilty.

  ‘Did you notice, Ra?’ Elian observed aloud. ‘All the machines we destroyed had black crosses on their wings. The other aircraft has coloured circles. Look.’

  ‘You’re right. I hadn’t noticed that.’

  ‘There he goes. Look, he’s waving,’ Elian called out excitedly.

  And he was. Waggling his wings in a rocking motion, the man flew his machine past them, waving as he went.

  ‘I wonder what he’ll tell his colleagues when he gets down on the ground!’ Ra chuckled. ‘Whatever he tells them, they are unlikely to believe him. Let’s get well away from here. I think we’ve done quite enough interfering for one day.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Questions and Some Unexpected Answers

  If anyone saw the two visible dragons make their dive from the base of the clouds to settle at the edge of the woodland glade, they did not come to investigate further. Once on the ground, the dragons moved beneath the cover of the trees. By the time Elian had managed to untie Nolita, Kira had dismounted and was there to help him lift her down out of the saddle.

  ‘She’s frozen,’ he said anxiously. ‘What should we do?’

  ‘Firestorm will revive her,’ Ra assured him, simultaneously relaying the thought through Fang to Kira. ‘Place her on the ground and stand back. If Nolita has any sense, she will learn from this experience that there are great benefits to being the rider of a day dragon. He is a gentle soul. She should gain some sense of that through his healing breath.’

  The two young dragonriders laid Nolita gently down and stepped well clear. Firestorm moved forwards, his cornflower-blue scales seeming out of place amongst the trees. He stretched his head forwards on his long neck until his nostrils were almost touching the fabric of Nolita’s jacket.

  ‘He’s not going to set fire to the forest, is he?’ Elian whispered to Kira, his eyes never leaving the blue dragon.

  ‘No. Fang tells me the healing fire isn’t like a normal flame,’ she replied, her voice low and full of anticipation.

  Firestorm blinked a couple of times and then his eyes half-lidded. His mouth opened wide. The day dragon could have consumed the young girl in a couple of swift mouthfuls, and any bystander could have been forgiven for thinking this to be his intention. Instead, the dragon inhaled a long, deep breath, and then with infinite care he breathed out his healing nimbus of fire that enveloped Nolita’s body in a writhing sheet of blue flames . . .

  Time seemed to slow as Firestorm exhaled his long, healing balm of fire. Then he raised his head and stepped back to give Nolita some space. Elian shook himself as if he had just woken from a standing sleep. How long had they stood and watched Firestorm breathe his fire across the slumbering girl? One minute? Two? Longer? He could not say. Witnessing the day dragon use his healing power felt magical, although he knew magic had no part in the dragon’s abilities.

  Nolita stirred. Elian and Kira ran forwards to help her to sit up. Her hands felt warm to the touch. Her skin looked healthy, if slightly flushed. As she made the final transition to full consciousness her face displayed a rainbow of emotions from happy contentment through surprise into horror and disgust, before finally settling with one of confusion.

  ‘Where am I?’ she asked, looking around with frightened eyes. ‘What did you do to me? I feel different.’

  ‘All good questions,’ Kira answered, flashing her white teeth in a wide smile of encouragement. ‘Unfortunately none of them have easy answers. Just rest a while.’

  With Nolita recovering, Elian was quick to attend to Ra. The weapons of the machines had pummelled her chest in particular. Anxious to see that she was not bleeding badly he raced around to look.

  ‘Don’t fuss. I’ll be fine, Elian,’ she assured him. ‘The weapons did not penetrate my scales. They did sting, though.’

  ‘I know,’ he replied. ‘I felt them.’ When he looked he could see spots of red through the golden surface of her scales. ‘Can Firestorm heal these?’ he asked.

  ‘He can and he will,’ she answered. ‘If you will move aside, he will do it now.’

  Elian did as he was told and Firestorm again breathed out his healing blue nimbus, this time over Aurora. Elian was astonished as he felt the effects through the bond. Even though the sensations were only dimly sensed, he felt energised and full of vitality afterwards. It was incredible.

  Nolita watched Ra’s healing with an expression that flickered between disgust and wonder. When Firestorm had finished and moved away from Ra, she addressed Elian with barely contained anger.

  ‘When are you going to tell me what’s going on?’ she grated.

  ‘We’re in a place called France,’ he offered, not quite sure how much to tell her.

  ‘France? Never heard of it. How did we get here? Even a dragon would take several days to fly out of Cemaria from where we were. I don’t feel as if I’ve been asleep long. Wait! I remember something strange. Something was spinning – a weird hole in the air, then I was sort of swimming. No. It must have been a dream. I’m talking nonsense.’ She shook her head a little as if trying to shake the strange visions loose.

  ‘No, you’re not,’ Elian said quickly, noting Nolita’s inadvertent use of the word ‘dragon’ with an inward smile. Until now, he had only ever heard her refer to dragons as ‘beasts’. It was a small, but significant step
. ‘We came here through a sort of vortex. We’re not in Areth any more. We’re in another world.’

  ‘The trees are strange,’ she noted, seeming to ignore the significance of his answer. ‘The sky’s the wrong shade of blue. And that noise . . . what’s that noise?’

  Elian and Kira glanced at one another. The unspoken question between them was clear. How much should they tell Nolita? How much could she cope with?

  ‘Don’t lie to me,’ she said, looking round fearfully at the dragons. ‘I’m beginning to remember. You tied me up and brought me here. There’s no point denying it. Come on, I’m waiting. Why are we here and what’s that noise?’

  She was right, Elian decided. She did deserve to know what was going on. If she was ever to trust them, they had to be honest with her.

  ‘We brought you here because it’s the shortest way to Orupee. Aurora can open gateways into this world. When we leave tomorrow she’ll open another one that’ll take us straight to Orupee. We’ll have saved weeks of flying time.’ Elian paused a moment, because he knew she would not take the second part well.

  ‘All right, let’s assume for a moment that I believe you. Why don’t we just leave now?’ she asked.

  ‘Because Ra can only open the gateways at dawn,’ he replied. ‘She says that’s when the barrier between the worlds is weakest.’ He thought about trying to explain further, but realised it was unlikely to make any difference. ‘The noise you can hear is the sound of war. The people here are fighting with strange weapons that throw death over huge distances.’

  Nolita looked unconvinced, but her mind was racing ahead, the noise already dismissed.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she said softly. ‘You trick me, tie me up and bring me here because you want me to go to Orupee. I don’t know you. I’ve never seen you before. It makes no sense. Why?’ Nolita asked. ‘My home is in Cemaria. It’s that . . . the beast’s idea, isn’t it? It wants me to go there.’