He was taking off his left boot when he saw light gleaming on metal, far off in the sky over the hills. At the same time he heard the distant rumble of jets and a crackling sound, so faint and irregular that at first he thought he might be imagining it.

The noise of the jets grew louder. Blade heard the crash and roar of sonic booms, and the metallic glints turned into a number of darting shapes. He saw a crimson glow leap across the sky, like a distant flash of weirdly-colored lightning. A little later he heard the crackling again.

Riyannah's eyes widened and she staggered to her feet, her numbness and exhaustion apparently gone in a moment. She stared at the sky as if by sheer willpower she could bring the distant machines closer.

They were moving steadily toward the two watchers on their own. The crimson flashes now came two or three times each minute. Blade saw smoke trails from jet exhausts and what looked like guided missiles. Several times he saw large grayish powder puffs of smoke, and once a huge black blossom with flame in its heart. Bits of debris trailed more smoke down from the explosion. He was seeing an aerial battle, but who was fighting?

Riyannah seemed to know, and she also seemed to care desperately. She stood as if turned to iron, eyes fixed on the battle, hands gripping her belt, face a frozen mask except for lips which moved silently, praying or cursing or doing something else outside Blade's understanding. He put a hand on her shoulder and spoke her name. He wanted to get both of them under cover before the battle got much closer and they were flattened by a stray missile.

It was no use. Trying to move Riyannah was like trying to move a statue. Before Blade could make up his mind to use brute force, the battle was almost on top of them. It took on a pattern, and then it was Blade's turn to freeze and stare at the sky.