“They are evacuating the civilians,” remarked the dragon. “I hope that road is not required to bring in reinforcements.”

“It will not be needed,” replied the Torak. “We should see the bulk of the Sakovan armies between here and StarCity.”

Indeed, a few moments later the first of the hidden armies came into view. They were clearly visible from the air as long as the dragon was passing over the sevemore forests, but once they reached the groves of fargi trees, the ground was no longer visible. It was impossible to tell what was hidden beneath the giant trees.

As the dragon soared over the mountains, the clouds gave way to bright sunshine. Marak went from feeling cold to perspiring as the hot sun bore down on him. Of course the lower altitude added to his warmth. Myka had come into the mountains low and seemed to be delighting in banking from valley to valley. As the sides of the mountains flew by fairly close to his head, Marak drew his knife and jammed it into the hole in Myka’s scale so that he had something to hang onto.

“Wimp,” chortled the dragon as she banked so steeply that Marak felt his leg lifting off the dragon’s back.

Marak laughed after he caught his breath. The laugh died in his throat as Myka headed straight into a mountain and then suddenly turned upward just in the nick of time. Marak held the knife with both hands as he felt his seat separate from the dragon’s scales.

“Enough,” pleaded the Torak when he could speak. “I prefer to die in battle where I at least have a chance.”

“You must learn how to fly, Torak,” taunted the dragon as she reached the peak of the mountain and immediately tilted to soar down the other side. “Learn to anticipate my moves and balance your body without the need to hang on. When we fly into battle, you will need both of your hands on the hilt of your sword.”