Demonstorm

He was unused to the fear he felt at what he had to do. His brood urged him not to travel alone but he really had no choice. A flight of Kaan dragons would be seen as a threat and destroyed. Further, he still could not afford to take able dragons from the defence of his Broodlands while the newborn were so weak.

So it was that he flew high and alone for the Broodlands of the Naik, his fiercest enemies. He already knew he could rely on the Veret to support him. Long-time allies, they had foresight that the Naik had never displayed. His greatest fear was that the Naik would see diis as an opportunity to destroy the Kaan, as indeed it was. But if they did, it would consign them to death also. The question was, could he persuade them of that fact?

One factor was of some comfort. Should he fail, the enemy would not be long following him to the dead lands.

No Kaan knew the exact location of the Naik Broodlands but they all knew in which part of Beshara they would encounter attack. Sha-Kaan prepared himself for the inevitable challenge. His flame ducts were full and lubricated should he need them. The Vestare had spent days massaging balms and oils into his scales and the old muscles at his wing roots to give him increased flexibility; and he practised in his mind what he would say to buy him life enough to at least face Yasal-Naik, their brood leader.

And once he was prepared, he pulsed a message to Hirad Coldheart that he was among enemies and dived through the high cloud, barking loud to announce his presence.

For a while, he saw nothing in the skies. Below him, a vast desert fled away to distant iron-grey mountains. The great ocean was far away to his right and behind him the lush plains of Teras were a distant memory. He saw them first as a cloud like a sandstorm brewing ahead and close to the ground. The cloud boiled upwards, spiralling fast towards him, resolving itself into six rust-brown Naik dragons. All were young to his eyes, all desperate to reach him first, all charged with aggression and hate.

Sha-Kaan watched them come. He made sure he displayed no aggression himself. He circled slowly, his belly scales fully displayed, his neck straight and his wings deployed. Their formation worried him. It was by no means a holding pattern. It was an attack chevron.

He barked again, a sound of submission, but they still drove on unchanged, their calls a challenge to him and his brood. He held station a moment longer until it became plain their pace was going to take them straight through him. Barking his irritation, he beat his wings hard, propelling himself up and north of them, forcing them to break formation to intercept. One was ahead of the others. Sha-Kaan saw its mouth open.

He had not survived so many cycles without being a master of timing his dives. The Naik drove onwards, sure of his quarry. Sha-Kaan saw the breath draw in and the neck swell around its flame ducts. Orange fire washed the space where he should have been but he had furled his wings and dropped like a stone, bringing his head round to pour flame over the young dragon's flank.

In the next instant, he spread his wings wide, braking his fall dramatically. He roared loud. The remaining dragons faltered in flight, watching their brother plummet groundwards. Perhaps for the first time, they realised who it was they faced. This was no ordinary enemy. This was Sha-Kaan.

The five remaining fanned out around him where he hovered, again beating his wings gently, displaying his scales, hanging perpendicular to the ground thousands of feet below.

'Do you know nothing, or are you so full of anger you cannot read the signs of your visitors?' Sha's voice carried across the winds

of heights. He saw them hesitating, caught between their awe of him and their knowledge that together they might just take him down and strike a decisive victory.

'You are alone, Old Kaan,' taunted one. 'Vulnerable.'

'That I am,' said Sha-Kaan. 'And perhaps your minds should turn to wonder why that is? Had I come to challenge you, I would not have come alone.'

'We are unsure that you are alone,' said another.

Sha-Kaan looked long and slow at the skies all around them. The clouds he had come through were ten thousand feet above their heads. There was nowhere to hide.

'Then you should open your eyes, whelp. Now take me to Yasal-Naik, I must speak with him.'

'We will not. It is a trick to gain access to our Broodlands.'

Sha-Kaan sighed. 'Then bring him to me.'

'We do not take orders from the Kaan.'

Sha-Kaan rumbled in his throat. 'It is a request.'

'State the reason.'

'Because if he doesn't come and he doesn't listen to me, the Arakhe will soon destroy us all.'

There was a pause while they digested his statement and no doubt spoke among themselves, pulsing thoughts and ideas.

'There is no evidence to support this. Yasal will not thank us for disturbing him but he will thank us for bringing back your carcass.'

'And you will condemn your brood to extinction.' Sha-Kaan beat his wings once and extended his neck before bringing it back to a respectful 'S' shape. T ask you to believe me. I am Sha-Kaan and I have travelled alone to speak to Yasal. Let him decide my fate. I will abide by whatever he decrees.

'The choice, my young Naik, is yours.'

The Unknown didn't say much for a day. Hirad left him to it. The big warrior, limping a little more heavily, spent most of the time leaning on the aft rail, gazing back across the open water. He watched the Ornouth Archipelago diminishing towards the horizon. It was a beautiful sight with the sun still catching white sand or the azure shallow waters and throwing vibrant patterns onto the haze in the sky.

But Hirad knew he wasn't seeing that. All he could see were his wife and child disappearing beyond his reach and he had no real expectation of ever seeing them again.

It was dawn on the second day of their voyage back to Balaia. Hirad was on the wheel deck looking down on The Unknown's shaven head. Behind him, Jevin was guiding his novice helmsman. The elf s gentle voice little more than a murmur as he described the nuances of steering his sleek vessel.

Hirad felt a hand on his shoulder. Denser.

'Hey, big fella. Thinking too hard?'

Hirad turned briefly. 'Look what I've done.'

'He knows he's in the right place,' said Denser. 'Just give him time.'

'I've torn him from his family. It's unforgivable.'

'True but you can't think of it that way. Take it back as far as you like. Like I say, I'm more to blame. I'm a Xeteskian.'

'No you aren't. You're Raven.'

T believed them for long enough.'

The Unknown turned and stared up at them, his face stone.

'Neither of you are helping me with your feeble angst,' he said. T have my own mind. I exercised it. Now let it drop.' He returned his gaze to the ocean.

'Where's Erienne?' asked Hirad after an uncomfortable pause.

'Resting. She and Cleress are still working on that casting.'

'Will it work?'

'We'd better hope so,' said Denser. 'Or this is going to be a very short attempt to save the world.'

Hirad chuckled but he didn't feel the humour, more Denser's unconscious adoption of Ilkar's turn of phrase. 'It could be that anyway.'

'How so?'

'Sha-Kaan pulsed me before dawn. He's trying to speak to the Naik.'

'Ah,' said Denser. He scratched at his neatly trimmed beard. 'Tricky.'

'Yeah. And if I don't hear from him again before we sight Balaia, we can assume he's dead.' Hirad didn't believe the words as he spoke them.

'Do you think he was serious when he talked about how he felt the dragons had to help us?'

'Denser, he is not given to talking bollocks, unlike your good self

'Just asking.'

'Tell me something, Denser.' It was The Unknown again. 'How long can Erienne keep this casting going?'