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Authors: Mark Robson

BOOK: Firestorm
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Orupee was hundreds, if not thousands of leagues away. To travel that far, even on a dragon, would take a considerable time: days, if not weeks. Yet they had only been flying a matter of minutes
and he was already further from home than he had ever been before.

‘That doesn’t really mean much to me. For a start, Orupee is a huge continent – I looked on a map before we left. Whereabouts in Orupee does the Oracle live? Also, I’ve
no idea who, or what, this Oracle is. I’d like to have some idea of what we’re trying to do.’

‘The Oracle is an entity that dwells in a cave hidden deep in the great mountain range of central Orupee,’
Aurora explained.
‘Legend has it that the Oracle is a
dragon spirit, though I would not like to vouch for the validity of that claim until I have encountered it for myself. It is said to have great powers of prophecy and knowledge, and all dragons are
drawn to it at the appropriate time – normally once they have met with their dragonrider. I can feel the pull now. The sensation is strange and irresistible, but not frightening, or
unpleasant.’

‘So you’ve never actually met this Oracle. How do you know it exists if you’ve never seen it?’

‘There are dragons within my enclave who have encountered the Oracle. Each described a similar encounter, though each perceived the Oracle slightly differently. Dragons do not tell
lies. It is a matter of honour.’

Elian thought for a moment, searching for a frame of reference.

‘Is the Oracle a god, then? A dragon god?’ he asked.

‘No, Elian, dragons do not worship the Oracle, but we do accord it our respect. It is not a creator, but for millennia the Oracle has given dragons a special sense of purpose. Many
humans spend their entire lives wondering why they exist. Dragons are fortunate. We have no such unanswered questions. We spend our lives accumulating knowledge and skills against the day that the
Oracle calls. When the time comes, the Oracle reveals the prophetic purpose for our lives and tells us what we must do to complete our life’s mission. On completion of our task, we are left
fulfilled. My elders told me of their encounters and the tasks they were given. Their accounts were fascinating. I look forward eagerly to our encounter.’

‘Our
encounter?’ Elian asked. ‘So I’m going to meet this Oracle as well?’

‘Of course. We are as one now, Elian. Our bond joins us, and nothing but death can separate us. Such is the joy of the union between dragon and rider.’

Elian had doubts that he knew Aurora could feel through the bond. Although he was delighted to be Ra’s rider, he was apprehensive about the prospect of searching for a dragon spirit in a
distant mountain range. What would she do if they did not find this Oracle? Or worse, if she discovered the Oracle was a fake – what then?

‘Do not fear, Elian. The Oracle is real. You will see.’

They continued northeast for several hours, climbing so high that Elian felt as if he should be able to see the whole world. He watched in wonder as the wide grasslands of the open savannah
slipped steadily by beneath them. His gratitude for the fur-lined clothing increased quickly as they climbed. After his initial period of overheating, it did not take long for the air at the higher
altitudes to send its cold fingers creeping through the layers to his body. His sweat cooled, leaving him feeling damp and uncomfortable.

By the time Ra began to descend in the late hours of the afternoon, his teeth were chattering and his flesh felt chilled through to the bone. He could no longer feel the saddle-grips through his
gloves, though his fingers remained locked around them. If he had not been wearing all the heavy clothing, he would have been forced to ask Ra to take him back down into warmer air.

They landed near a large water hole. A small herd of deer scattered, nimbly bounding away at high speed as they recognised the approach of a top predator. Some headed out into the open
grasslands, whilst others raced for a nearby stand of trees, only to veer and scatter in other directions before reaching cover.

Elian did not realise how cold-soaked he was until he tried to get down from Ra’s back.


Are you all right?’
Ra asked when he did not move. Elian could hear the worried tones in her ‘voice’ as she sensed his rising panic.

‘I d-d-don’t know. I’ve never b-been this c-c-cold before.’

‘Don’t panic, Elian. You’ll warm up quickly enough now that we’re down. I’m sorry. I should have realised that you would be susceptible to the cold at the
heights we were flying. Please forgive me. It will take me a while to learn my new limits now I have a rider. Can you get down? You might feel better for a drink. The water here is pure enough for
you to drink if you cannot manage the stopper on your water-skin. I stopped here during my journey to find you. It is a good place to rest.’

Moving was painful, but over the following few minutes Elian slowly disentangled his feet from the stirrups. Easing his right leg over Ra’s back he slid down the dragon’s side to the
ground. His descent was not exactly dignified, and his collapse into a heap for a second time would have been embarrassing if there had been anyone to see it.

Her head twisted around on her long neck to nuzzle him.

‘I’m all right, Ra. I just need to get my blood moving again, that’s all. It feels as if all my strength and co-ordination has been sucked out by the cold.’

It took two tries, but on the second attempt Elian managed to get to his feet and stagger a few steps away from the dragon. As he did so, he spotted something approaching at speed. It took a
moment to register what he was looking at, and a moment more to process the information and formulate a warning. Aurora, however, was a split heartbeat ahead of him and issued a mighty roar of rage
that caused all but one of the approaching men to falter for an instant.


DRAGONHUNTERS!
’ she exclaimed.
‘Quick! Climb up on my back, Elian. We have to get away from here as fast as we can.’

‘I can’t! My legs will barely move and my arms are no better. Go without me. Save yourself, Ra! It’s you they’re after – not me!’

‘Leave you? I’ve only just found you. I’m not going to leave you.’

‘But they’ll hurt you, Ra. Maybe even kill you. Go! You must. We don’t have time to argue. Go!’

The dragonhunters had cleverly approached in a semi-circle to trap Ra against the water hole, allowing her no avenue of escape unless she tried to breach the line. But Ra was not about to chance
a dragonhunter’s spear.


I’ll be back for you, Elian. Try to get away from them if you can. It’s not their place to deny our future.’

With that she unfurled her wings, turned and hurled herself at the water hole. Elian and the dragonhunters watched in amazement as the first down-stroke of her mighty wings generated enough lift
for her to skip across the surface of the water like a swan. Somehow, she managed a quick second stroke without sinking into the water, and then a third and she was clear of the water and powering
up into the air.

Elian’s heart pounded with relief and wonder as he watched her escape. But any thoughts he might have had of getting away himself were shattered moments later when he found himself
surrounded by a large group of men armed with fearsome-looking weapons.

One man stepped forwards from the line and regarded Elian intently. He made a gesture and two other men advanced and grabbed Elian, restraining him by the upper arms.

‘The dragon will return,’ Kasau said quietly, but with conviction. His mismatched eyes were calm as he alternated his gaze between Elian and the distant, retreating dragon. ‘We
have her rider. She won’t go far.’

Chapter Six

Don’t Run!

‘Don’t run!

For the briefest moment, Nolita hesitated in her flight towards the trees. Her stride broke into a skipping stumble as she scanned around her for the owner of the voice. There was nobody nearby.
Had someone shouted? No. The voice had sounded gentle, yet strange and near, almost as if it had whispered in her ear.

It must have been my imagination, she concluded as her legs rediscovered their rhythm. She had always had vivid dreams. Some looked on such things as a blessing, but to Nolita dreaming was a
curse, as her dreams usually degenerated to nightmares.

She heard the whooshing of the beast’s wings as it landed behind her, but did not look round. The stream was between her and the trees. With an enormous bound, she leaped it. The pause as
she hung in the air above the water seemed to last an age. When she landed her legs kicked her forwards like a startled deer, and she sped between the trees, ducking under branches and weaving
between the trunks.

‘Please come back. I don’t want to hurt you.’

What was this? The voice was clearer this time. It was inside her head. She was sure of it. Was she losing her mind? Unless she thought. No! Don’t be a fool, Nolita! It can’t be the
beast. It can’t be!


I’ve waited so long to meet you, Nolita,’
the voice said softly.
‘Please don’t run.’

Nolita’s fear had been absolute during her first encounter with the beast, but the voice in her head added an entire new dimension to it. This was dread unlike any she had ever known
before. Earlier, there had been a focus – something she could run from. But how could she run from a voice inside her head? White terror enveloped her.

Branches lashed at her arms, body and face. Bushes and undergrowth clawed at her legs. Nolita felt none of it. Uncaring of direction, she ran.

It was an unseen root that brought her flight to a sudden and undignified end. One moment she was running, the next she was flying head first through the air. Her arms waved frantically in a
vain effort to control her flight, but she hit the ground hard, the wind whooshing from her lungs as her body skidded and rolled to a halt in the underbrush.

She lay there for some time, heaving and gasping in desperate shuddering breaths. The voice in her head was gone. That was one good thing. The sense of a presence she had felt when it had spoken
was no longer there. However, she could still feel something – an awareness, or a link. Something.
It
had done this to her. She was sure of it. But
what
had it done?

As she slowly regained some control over her breathing, Nolita checked her body for injuries. There were a few scratches, but nothing to worry about. She was remarkably unscathed. What would
have happened if she had listened to the beast, though? She shuddered at the thought.

Would it leave now that it knew she would not fall for its soft voice and its hypnotic eyes? Should she creep back and see? The villagers revered its kind. Even her mother was under the spell.
She would have forbidden Nolita from running away. But if Nolita continued to run now she would not be disobeying. For some reason that felt important.

She needed provisions to survive in the wild. Maybe she could sneak back to the village in the night? No! It was too dangerous. She would keep going and do her best to live off the land.
Luckily, her small water-skin was still tied to her belt. She also had her belt knife with her – something she did not always carry.

What did she need? Oiled skins to protect against the rain? More clothing? Food and more water? Maybe a bow and some arrows? All of these things could be made, caught, collected or stolen as she
journeyed.

‘This way is best,’ she told herself. ‘I’ll survive, or I won’t, but I’m not going back. The adults wouldn’t understand. They’d lecture me on
honour and my duty to the creatures and those who ride them. I’ll not risk being handed over to it like a sacrificial goat.’

The great woodlands of northern Cemaria were so huge that she could walk for hundreds of leagues without ever having to leave the safety they offered. The beast was too large to follow her
between the trees. If she kept her cool and stayed on the move she could hide from it for ever.

The thing that worried her most was that it had got inside her head. Her scalp itched as she thought about the beast’s invasion of her thoughts. She wanted to scrub her scalp, but
couldn’t. Not here. The nearest water was behind her and she was not about to go back. It would have to wait a while. Besides, she knew instinctively that scrubbing her scalp and face would
not remove the sensation. It was on the inside. How could she hope to clean away something that was beyond the reach of soap and water?

Brushing down her clothes with her hands, Nolita staggered to her feet. The scratches stung, and her chest and right upper arm felt bruised from her fall. Rather than ignore the pain or seek to
lessen it, however, Nolita harnessed it as a focus. It helped her block out the fear. Without a backward glance, she set off at a more sensible pace between the trees. Away from home. Away from
family. Away from
it.

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