Riding on the biggest animal he’d ever seen and so high it took his breath away, Hirad had never felt more vulnerable in his life. His sword, strapped down, was useless in its scabbard and he considered himself open to attack from anywhere at any time.

The sky was full of dragons. Sha, Nos and Hyn powered towards the rip, their mage charges forming the mana shape for a spell that might save the Kaan. The rip itself, cloud-bounded and huge, dominated the sky. Light flickered and flared inside its brown mass and it ate at the blue with fearsome speed.

Stretched across its surface, the Kaan flew in desperate defensive patterns while flights patrolled further afield, looking to break up attacks before they threatened the rip.

Without warning, Sha-Kaan veered away, angling steeply and climbing sharply, a great bark escaping his mouth. Simultaneously, a shadow swept over them and a Kaan dragon whipped across Hirad’s vision. It opened its jaws and flame gorged out. For a moment, Hirad couldn’t see the target, but then what he knew to be a Naik darted into view, evading the flame and spiralling down. The Kaan gave chase.

‘This isn’t going to be easy!’ shouted Ilkar, his concentration broken by the sudden move.

‘We’ll go again,’ said Hirad, head pressed to Ilkar’s, their skulls making communication easier.

The trio of carrier dragons reformed, heading back up to the rip. On reaching it, they would circle its periphery until the spell was released. All tasks were easier said than done.

Hirad’s terror was gone now, replaced by a morbid fascination, a gnawing fear and a detached disbelief in where he and The Raven found themselves. Sha-Kaan estimated that over seven hundred dragons fought in the sky, the Kaan outnumbered by their enemies but more keenly organised. Against them, the Naik, Gost and Stara, all disparate but all fighting Kaan rather than each other.

Sha-Kaan drilled through a cloud bank and once again the rip was before them. Ilkar tensed and relaxed. Hirad clung on to him and prayed.

Closer to the rip, the noise was extraordinary. Over the rushing in Hirad’s ears, the calls of dragons raged all around him. Wings beat, flame tattooed the sky and the sounds of snapping jaws and claws rending flesh and scale were as clear as they were awfully close.

Hundreds of dragons fought, their bodies colliding with extraordinary violence, the reports echoing across the sky. Their speeds were impossible yet still they dodged, breathed fire as they passed each other and turned acute angles in the air. They were monstrous animal machines with the grace of dancers and the sky was their domain.

Six Kaan hammered past them, their bodies close enough to touch, their power and size causing Hirad to hunch down into his shoulders. His fixed gazed followed them as they dropped on their quarry, four Gost flying direct for the rip. Fire poured from ten mouths and both formations split to dodge the flames. A single Gost caught the brunt of the Kaan breath. Its wings flared briefly, its head a mass of burning scale, and it dropped squealing from the sky.

The Kaan wheeled and reformed, chasing two Gost survivors. But the fourth came on and, with a sickening lurch in his aching stomach, Hirad realised it was heading right for them.

Automatically, he signalled a warning with his mind, feeling Sha-Kaan’s calm thoughts cover his fear. But the Gost came on, large, deep green wings beating, its jaws agape, its eyes fixed on its prize.

And then it was gone. Taken from the side by two smaller Kaan, one clamping jaws on its neck behind the head, the other digging talons into the mound of its body, the impacts sounding like flat thuds, shivering in the air.

Sha-Kaan flew on, Ilkar was oblivious, Hirad quaked.

Tessaya had his targets trapped. The Easterners had rushed into the poorly defended back of Senedai’s forces, causing huge damage with their swords and magic. But their desperation to break through to the Manse attackers had made them careless of what lay behind.

The Lord of the Paleon Tribes had been forced to wait for their strike before he could be certain of their position. Now he moved in quickly, sending pincers to wither the flanks while leading the central prong himself.

To his left, he knew General Darrick was making quick progress. Only the courageous Easterner could have made up such ground during a rough night and Tessaya had nothing but respect for him and his powers of leadership. It wouldn’t save him from death but Tessaya knew he had to destroy the other force quickly before Darrick’s surge undermined the confidence of Senedai’s men.

He clicked his fingers and his hornsmen stepped up. A single blast and the attack drove in. Tessaya unsnagged his axe and raced at the head of his tribesmen, storming into the Easterners’ flimsy rear defence. His first swing half-decapitated a man, his second shattered ribs and split heart and his third slashed a thigh open to the bone.

All the enemy mages were concentrated ahead and he had no fear of spell attack. He drove on and on, batting aside a sword thrust and burying his axe in another exposed skull. He roared his delight, ordered his men on and swung once again.

Sha-Kaan had wheeled away again under a concerted Naik assault. Too many Kaan were covering them, not enough held the rip against determined attack and Hirad could feel his anxiety as much as he could Ilkar’s.

‘We can’t keep on breaking off,’ shouted Ilkar. ‘We’re using stamina. Sha-Kaan has to stay on course. He has to give us time.’

‘He’ll do all he can,’ replied Hirad, his voice hoarse, the spittle whipped away as Sha-Kaan bucked and turned back for another run at the rip.

For a third time, Ilkar tensed and relaxed, for a third time, Hirad held him steady. For a third time he prayed.

Sha-Kaan barrelled through the thickening cloud, ignoring a fight between two Kaan and a Stara that fell past him. Wings, talons and heads writhed, the trio locked together, none with any care for the speed at which they plummeted groundwards.

At the face of the rip, a dozen Kaan broke from their holding pattern and raced directly out, calls urgent, bodies shaped for as much speed as they could muster. In the distance, but growing rapidly, at least fifteen dragons, resolving themselves into the russet brown of the Naik, headed in, and Hirad read something in their formation that spelled real danger.

They split into three groups of five, each in arrow formation. One pushed upwards, another lost height while the third drove on, aiming for the heart of the defending Kaan, who couldn’t afford to split their force into three to fight them all.

They chose to halve themselves, five heading on, five up, leaving the third Naik flight unmolested. With a multiple roar that ricocheted across the sky, the factions met. Fire exploded in all directions, wings beat, talons flashed and bodies thundered together. Naik and Kaan fell, one with a wing torn to shreds, another with a hideous wound all along its underbelly. Others followed, jaws snapping, roars shuddering through Hirad, orange afterglow on the back of his eyes.

But the third Naik flight came on. At first, Hirad couldn’t be sure that they were coming for Sha-Kaan and The Raven. But they changed their direction, no longer diving for the rip but on an intercept course with Sha, Nos and Hyn and their helpless charges.

Hirad searched the air, looking for the Kaan that would take them out but everywhere was confusion. dragons clotted the sky in chaotic pattern, the gold of the Kaan melded with the russet Naik, the brooding green of the Gost and the startling burgundy of the Stara. He was sure no one had seen the onrushing Naik and he pulsed an urgent message to Sha-Kaan whose only reply was to fly harder.