‘Yes, Great Kaan.’

‘I will be gone from the Broodlands for a short time. I must speak with the Veret. If I do not return, you must pick up the signature of Hirad Coldheart of The Raven. It will reside in the Mind of Wingspread and you alone have my permission to enter if I should die.’

‘I am honoured, Great Kaan.’

‘You are still young, Elu, but the greatness is in your heart, mind and wings. Learn from me and become Great Kaan yourself in time.’ Sha-Kaan stretched his wings. ‘May the Skies be clear for you.’

‘And you, Great Kaan. Be careful. The Brood needs you.’

Sha made no response. Calling his farewells to the Brood, he flew from the valley, heading north for the Shedara Ocean.

The skies were calm, the cloud high and the winds in the upper strata aided his flight. After exchanging greetings and instructions with the gateway defence, he climbed high above the cloud layer and drank in the radiance of the orb and the beauty of his world.

From the heights, the tranquillity lifted his heart and, for a beat, he could believe the world was at peace. Warm yellow-orange light flooded the sky, reflecting from the clouds and sparkling in his vision. He closed his inner lids and focused his mind below.

Nothing impinged on his consciousness. No flights of dragons moved the air contours, no clash of minds filled the void with noise, no barks told of battles to come, no cries of pain told of battles lost. Satisfied, he increased his wing beats and tore across the sky.

The Shedara Ocean filled the northern hemisphere. Where the vast lands of Dormar and Keol ended, so it began, its vastness punctuated only by islands, reefs and drifts of sand, immense on the tide, nothing in the flood. But it was a short-sighted dragon that ignored the land masses, however temporary their hold on dry air. The Veret, though marine in all their biology, chose to nest and breed in caves and hides where the sea was not forever above their heads.

Sha-Kaan knew where the Veret chose to Brood and he flew deliberately through the centre of their mind net before banking steeply up to await the inevitable response. It was not long in coming.

A flight of Veret, six strong, ploughed through the moist air to meet him, their aggression plain. Sha-Kaan defused their ire before they had a chance to close for the fight.

‘I would speak with Tanis-Veret, my altemelde,’ he said, knowing the name of their Elder Veret and the link to a long-standing kinship would stay their fire. ‘I am Sha-Kaan.’

Spiralling up through the heights, the Veret called challenges and warnings, daring him to descend towards their Broodlands beneath the waves. Their aquamarine blue scales flashed wet in the sunlight, their wings drove them up at speed, their streamlined bodies causing precious little resistance. He watched them turn, assessed the confidence of their movement and concluded he would likely be killed if they attacked him. He remained on station, circling slowly, the Veret forming a holding group around him, left, right, in front, behind, above and below. Sha-Kaan could feel their awe of him but also anger and, in one to his right, hate.

‘You will not break from us as we descend. You will not call, you will not pulse,’ said the Veret with hate on his mind.

‘I understand,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘You realise I am no threat to you. I have come alone to talk.’

‘It is our way,’ said another, more reverence in his tone. ‘All visitors must be escorted to the Broodlanding.’

‘Care cannot be over-estimated.’

The flight dived steeply, reining in their natural speed to account for Sha-Kaan’s less aerodynamic frame. They were heading for a small rock island at the edge of which great towers of rock jutted up in five places.

‘Land centrally.’ Sha-Kaan was ordered. The flight pulled away. Sha-Kaan feathered his huge wings, braking quickly to drop vertically between the rock spires on to the sea-drenched main outcrop. Almost immediately, the water ahead of him rippled, boiled and exploded outwards. Tanis-Veret broke surface, dragging a mass of ocean with him that tumbled back into the frothing turbulence he left behind and soared into the sky, an arrow punching through the air, a call of greeting bouncing from the crannied stone. Tanis-Veret turned full somersault and landed at the very edge of the island, tail drawing moisture from the ocean, the ripples of his exit from the water expanding still as he settled.

‘There is nothing like the wind on wet scales,’ said Tanis. ‘You are far from home, Sha-Kaan.’

‘This is far from an ordinary situation,’ replied the Great Kaan. ‘I greet you, Tanis-Veret.’ He lifted his neck to the formal ‘s’, meeting the gaze of his equal.

‘And I you.’ Tanis’ short neck couldn’t form as Sha-Kaan’s but he picked up his torso to sit upright, exposing as Sha did, his belly scales.

Above them, the Veret flight broke and dived into the sea, their perfect entries minimising splash and ripple as they disappeared beneath the swell.

‘I do not feel we need them, do you?’

Sha-Kaan inclined his head.

‘Your trust is welcome and is reciprocated.’

‘Speak, Sha-Kaan, though I think I know your subject.’

‘I will speak plainly. It is my belief that you have allied with the Naik in a battle that is not your concern nor which could possibly benefit your Brood.’

Tanis looked away, a cough rippling his chest, the dulling scales a sign of his great age. He was far older than Sha-Kaan but in the tight Brood structure that was the Veret way, his authority and ability to lead would never be questioned. Only in death would a successor be appointed. For the Kaan, mind strength was critical and Sha knew that one day Elu-Kaan would beat him and he would take his place among the Elder-Kaan, revered but peripheral.

‘Sha-Kaan, this is a time of great peril for the Veret. Our birthings have slumped, protection for our carrying females has to be our primary concern and this leaves too few to defend our borders against attack.’

‘So I was right.’ Sha-Kaan’s anger flared. He felt some small pity for Tanis but it was overwhelmed by contempt. ‘Why didn’t you come to me?’

‘The Naik were already here. They had the strength to finish us there and then. We had no choice.’

‘Naik!’ spat Sha-Kaan, a gout of smoke firing from his mouth. ‘But after. Why not send a flight to me after?’

‘They would know. They knew of our trouble. They knew we would have to furl wing to them.’

Sha-Kaan stared hard at Tanis-Veret, disappointment now burying his contempt. The Veret Elder was broken and bowed. He had not even the strength to try and free his Brood. Surely the Naik would finish them anyway. He said so.

‘Perhaps,’ said Tanis. ‘I have to trust they will not.’

‘You are letting your Brood die,’ said Sha-Kaan angrily. ‘I came to offer help. Maybe I should just leave you to fade away.’

‘How can you help? Your Brood is stretched, a gateway to your melde-dimension hangs in the sky for all to see. You fight for your own survival.’

‘And you add to the struggle by aiding the Naik. Do you not see?’

‘I must protect my Brood above all others, please respect that.’ Tanis looked skywards, his eyes nervous.

‘No one is near.’

‘They are always near.’

‘Last light was the most painful I have suffered for many cycles,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘I killed one of your Brood who chased down and fired my Vestare. Another of my Brood died in a diving embrace, punctured by a Veret. Others of my Brood either chased off or killed more Veret. We are not at war with you, Tanis; why must you fight us?’

‘Because if we do not, we will be extinguished.’ Tanis would not look at Sha-Kaan.

‘I understand your problem and the confusion it must cause you. But I am here now and my Brood will protect you if you break your alliance of fear with the Naik.’ Sha-Kaan moved for the first time since he landed, extending his wings and rising up on his hind legs in a gesture of intent. His massive bulk dwarfing the smaller Veret, his wings casting a broad shadow over the island and his claws dragging scars in the rock beneath him.