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Authors: Mark Robson

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BOOK: Firestorm
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Kira seemed full of fearless bravery and fiery, passionate emotion. Her feistiness and strength of character made the girls from his village seem meek by comparison. If he could win her
friendship, she would prove a useful ally.

‘We could travel together for a while, if you like,’ he offered, working hard to keep his voice mellow and determinedly ignoring her hostility. ‘Ra and I were also on our way
to see the Oracle when the hunters trapped me. Maybe we should share what we know.’

‘Really? Has Ra told you anything about the Oracle?’ she asked, her curiosity tweaked. ‘Do you know what it is?’

‘Ra did tell me a little. From what I understand, the Oracle is some sort of dragon spirit. When we meet it, the Oracle will give her – us – a mission. Apparently Ra has been
preparing for this mission all her life. Once we complete it, Ra can live out the rest of her life feeling fulfilled. I imagine it’ll be the same for Fang. Does that make any
sense?’

His explanation took some of the anger from Kira’s eyes. He could almost see the thought processes whirling through her mind.

‘Yes, I think it does. But what will we do then? What are we supposed to do when this life mission is complete?’ she asked, her tone still sour.

‘I don’t know,’ Elian admitted. ‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I intend to concentrate on one thing at a time. Get the mission out of the way,
then—’

‘Of course, we have to
reach
the Oracle first,’ Kira snapped. She looked down meaningfully and Elian automatically followed her gaze to the spear. ‘He’s bleeding
badly and the effort of carrying two is tiring him fast. We’ll have to land soon.’

‘If we could just find some broadleaf rockcrop,’ Elian said thoughtfully. ‘The juice of the leaves helps stop bleeding. It works with people, so I assume it’ll work with
dragons. If we can find something to numb the pain as well . . .’

‘Broadleaf rockcrop?’ she asked. ‘What does it look like?’

‘At this height, we’d never spot it. When we land I’ll take Ra and look for some. It’s a common plant and it’s a good time of year for it. We should be able to find
it.


Ra, are you familiar with this plant?’

Elian did his best to conjure up as vivid an image as he could in his mind.

‘Dragons have little time for plant life, Elian,’
Ra replied, sounding genuinely insulted by his suggestion. ‘
I might take a second glance at a large bush if I
thought it was concealing prey, but I generally leave the green stuff for those at the lower end of the food chain.’

Elian smiled at her phrasing, but discarded any thoughts of sending her down to low level to search on her own. He did not want to upset her. Instead he concentrated on looking ahead at the
landscape.

Ideally, he would love to have seen a natural barrier like the Haleen Rift Valley with its great escarpment to put between them and the hunters, but the land ahead was flat, open savannah. There
were the purple hints of mountains in the far distance to their right, but Fang was in no fit state to fly so far.

The brave dragon flew on for over two hours before beginning his descent. Ra had spotted a water hole ahead, and told Fang to land. She judged they had travelled far enough to render another
attack unlikely today.

Side by side, the dragons descended in a shallow glide and landed near the water’s edge. There were a few scrubby bushes, but unlike their last stop there were no trees for enemies to hide
in. The long grass of the savannah concealed many predators and game, but there were no signs of human life.

Any predators would keep their distance from the dragons. They were safe – for now.

Chapter Nine

Fish on a Hook

How many days had it been? Six? Seven? Nolita had lost count, but she knew that unless she got lucky, she would not survive much longer. Although she was reasonable at the
basics of woodcraft – she could build shelters and light fires – she had never been good at hunting. Now her belly ached for food and her limbs felt weak.

Edible plantlife was not easy to find in the forest. Berries and nuts would not come into season for some time yet, and there was little else apart from fungi. But she was wary of eating any
mushrooms. A boy in the village had nearly died the previous year after mistakenly eating a poisonous variety. Her best chance of finding food was to make a kill, but so far she had enjoyed no
luck.

She made a portable trap that she set every night, but no animal had been foolish enough to step into it. Her brother was an expert at setting traps and snares, but Nolita had never worked out
what he did to gain such consistent success. If she were to stay in one place for more than a night, then she could set more snares and build more traps, but she had been forced to keep on the
move. IT had been following her.

At first she had thought it was her overactive imagination at work, but then the beast had spoken in her mind again and she knew for certain that it had not given up. How it was following her
was not clear. Surely it was impossible for it to see her through the thick tree canopy, yet somehow it had found her every day and plagued her mind with its soft voice and its cajoling words.

Nolita was descending a steep slope, pondering different ways she might shake the beast from her trail. The footing was slippery and dangerous. Her head and eyes were fixed downwards on the
ground immediately ahead when a snarling noise stopped her in her tracks. There was no mistaking the sound. Legs frozen in place, she raised her head slowly and met the eyes of the wolf. It was no
more than a dozen paces away. Its body was dipped forwards on its extended front legs, and its hackles were up as it deepened its snarl into a rich, throaty growl.

With a great effort of will, Nolita broke eye contact with it and flicked her gaze around to see if any more were lurking nearby. It appeared to be alone. Relief warmed her as she met its intent
stare again. A lone wolf was dangerous, but not as dangerous as a hunting pack. Her stomach fluttered with fear, but it was nothing compared to the terror that had consistently haunted her for the
last few days.

Under different circumstances Nolita might have tried to run, but she knew that to do so would likely provoke an attack. A wolf’s killing tactic was normally to hamstring its victim as it
ran. Having immobilised its prey it would then go for the throat. By standing her ground, the wolf would be forced to think twice about attacking.

Nolita slowly moved her right hand until it rested on the handle of her belt knife. The wolf’s growl deepened still further and its body weaved on the spot as it threatened to leap
forwards. She drew her blade, the bright flash of steel strengthening her feeling of control over the situation.

‘Leave me alone,’ she said aloud. The words had no confidence in them, but to her surprise they had the desired effect. The wolf gave one final snarl, then turned and trotted away
across the slope. ‘I suppose there must be plenty of easier game out here,’ Nolita muttered. ‘I just wish I could hunt well enough to be so choosy.’

‘That was bravely done, Nolita. Come to me and you’ll not have to worry about wolves or hunting. No predator will dare threaten you with me around and I’ll bring you meat to
eat whenever you want it. I’m a very accomplished hunter.’

‘Gods, no!’ she exclaimed, instantly beginning to skip down the steep hillside at a speed that she would never normally attempt. ‘Not again!’ she muttered in terror.
‘How do you keep finding me?’

‘We are bonded. I’m drawn to you. It is our destiny to be together.’

For a moment Nolita was speechless. The last thing she had expected was an answer. How had it heard what she had said? She had barely breathed the question. It was impossible. She skidded to a
stop against a thick tree trunk.

‘What if I don’t want to be bonded?’ she asked more loudly, forcing herself to look up at the tree-tops to see if she could see any sign of the beast overhead.

‘You have no choice. I have no choice. It is our destiny. I don’t know why. It just is. Please don’t be afraid. I intend you no harm. I am Firestorm, your
dragon.’

A towering wall of fear was forming again. Was there no escape? ‘There are always choices,’ she shouted, trying to use her anger and feelings of violation as a focus to overcome the
terror that threatened to crush her chest. ‘I don’t want any part of your destiny!
I
control my life. Me! Not you. Not my mother. Not destiny. Me. I don’t want any part of
you, beast. Go! Leave me alone.’

‘You cannot turn me aside like you did the wolf, Nolita. We must go together. The Oracle is calling. It is our time.’

‘There is no “we”, do you hear? I’ll never go anywhere with you.’

Sobs of fear and anger ripped through Nolita. She pushed away from the tree to begin skipping and galloping downwards, using gravity to lend her energy. Teetering on the edge of control she
fended off saplings and swung under low branches. Her legs felt heavy and wooden as she reached the bottom of the wooded valley. Running here was impossible. Nolita did not have the strength left,
but she gritted her teeth and staggered onwards as fast as she could.

With tears streaking her cheeks, Nolita managed no more than a hundred paces before she was forced to slow. Time blurred the following hour into a seemingly endless alternation between walking
and a stumbling jog. For all she could remember, Nolita could have been running minutes, hours, or days.

It was the sound of running water that brought her back to her senses. The instant she heard the bubbling song of the stream, Nolita was gripped by an overwhelming urge to wash. She had no soap,
but that was not important. It was the process: the feel of water, the rubbing, the motion and the sensation of cleanliness. The ritual would help bring her out of the darkness.

The sound was not difficult to trace, for it was a large stream. With grateful sobs of relief, Nolita staggered to the mossy bank and fell to her knees. She drove her hands into the water and
began to scrub frantically at her palms and fingers. With methodical diligence and broken fingernails she rubbed and scratched at the ingrained dirt. She washed and washed until her hands were
frozen and shrivelled. Then she leaned over the edge of the stream and dipped her head into the chill water. The cold took her breath away, but she did not flinch. With vigorous thoroughness she
washed her scalp, hair and face.

The cold water and the familiar ritual calmed her. As she leaned back to squeeze the water from her hair, her eyes automatically followed a fish darting through the pool and across to hide under
the far bank. A horrible thought struck her. She was like a fish on a hook. She could run until she was unable to run any more, but the invisible line tying her to the beast would still be there.
Unless she could break the link somehow, the beast would eventually drag her in. The calm that had settled over her shattered like smashed ice.

‘There’s got to be a way out. There’s just got to be,’ she whispered.

Chapter Ten

Through the Gateway

Elian dismounted, removed his heavy jacket and hat, and went off to search out the broadleaf rock-crop. It did not take him long to find an armload of the fleshy leaves. When
he returned, Kira was staring at Fang’s wound, furious.

‘Look at this! Look what those barbarians are using to hunt with,’ she stormed, beckoning.

At close range it was easy to see why the weapon jutting from the dragon’s flank had not worked loose during the flight. It had wicked barbs carved into the point to ensure that it snagged
in the victim’s flesh. To pull it free would cause more damage. He was appalled.

‘The women of our village use this to treat bad wounds,’ he said. ‘The juice slows bleeding. Let’s hope it works on dragons.’

Elian folded the leaves into a tight bundle and then twisted until milky-white sap began to seep from the wad of green. He dribbled the fluid into the top of the wound, working hard to extract
every last drop by twisting and retwisting the leaves.

Gently, he changed the angle of the spear in the wound to allow the juice of the leaves to penetrate as deeply as possible. Fang let out a long sigh of pain. But Elian’s joy, the sap acted
quickly and the blood flow slowed to a trickle.

BOOK: Firestorm
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