Kiron screamed again, and grabbed for Ari’s arm as he fell for the second time. He caught it, and was slammed against Avatre’s neck by the sudden weight. She struggled for control; he howled with anguish as his arm seemed to flame with pain. He felt his fingers slipping, looked down into Ari’s eyes, and saw bleak despair and resignation.

Slowly, agonizingly, Kiron’s grip slipped as Avatre lumbered sideways, pulled over by the weight. She didn’t know what to do, and he couldn’t tell her to land without letting go of Ari—

The fingers slid—down the forearm.

Wrist.

Gone.

Just as Re-eth-ke slid right underneath.

Ari landed across Re-eth-ke’s shoulders. Astride.

He screamed in pain. Kiron didn’t blame him. But at least while he was racked with pain, he wasn’t fighting anyone; Aket-ten wrapped her arms around him and sent Re-eth-ke to the ground; Re-eth-ke was perfectly happy to go.

The rest followed her down; panting and weak with reaction, Kiron let Avatre drift in a slow spiral behind them. He didn’t even think about Kashet—

Until they landed beside Re-eth-ke, and Aket-ten, who had Ari on the ground beside her, and the great blue-and-gold dragon powered out of the sky like a lightning bolt, heading straight for them.

This time it was Avatre who interposed herself between Kashet and his prey, while Kiron howled, his voice cracking, “Kashet! NO!”

And Kashet—stopped.

A strange look came into the blue dragon’s eyes, and his nostrils dilated as he sniffed in Kiron’s direction. “Kashet,” he said hoarsely, “You know me. We didn’t mean to hurt him. We’ll make him better.”

The dragon sniffed again, and made a gurgling whine in the back of his throat. Kiron slid down off Avatre’s shoulder; his knees were wobbly, but they held him. He stepped toward Kashet, holding out his hand. “Kashet,” he said as calmly as he could, “Remember? Remember Vetch?”

Kashet lowered his head down and sniffed his palm—

—and sighed.

Then folded his legs underneath himself with a groan, and dropped down into the sand.

Sand?

Kiron looked around. They had reached the edge of the desert, and he hadn’t even noticed.

He patted Avatre, who walked over to Kashet and sniffed him with deep suspicion, then stood guard over him. He trudged over to where the others were gathered around Ari—well, all but Aket-ten. She was leaning against Re-eth-ke, just out of sight of the others, leaning against her dragon’s shoulder. She looked white as fine linen, and he didn’t feel much better.

He knelt down next to Ari, who was clearly in pain.

“Let me, young Kiron.”