Draconas dropped onto Maristara like a falcon stooping on a pigeon, his front legs extended, his wings high.

At the last moment Maristara was aware of him, warned by the dragon warriors below, who had seen him appear at about the same time as Marcus. She was flying too fast to stop her downward momentum, but she did manage to twist her body so that his sharp claws could not gain purchase. Draconas struck Maristara hard, however, catching her between her shoulder blades, knocking her off balance and forcing her to cease her chase of the humans to save herself from crashing headlong into the ground.

“This is our chance, Father!” Marcus urged. “That’s what Draconas is doing! Offering us a chance to escape.”

Edward was quick to see the logic in this, and he was not one to give up his life when there was no need. He gave the order to ride and, casting one more glance above at the astonishing sight of dragon fighting dragon, he spurred his horse. The man driving the wagon, who had been waiting impatiently for just such a command, shouted at the horses and slapped the reins on their backs. Already nervous from the fire and the dragons, the horses were only too glad to flee and took off at top speed. The wagon jolted and jounced over dirt clods and ruts in the road.

The royal party rode in orderly retreat, racing for the sheltering walls of Aston Castle. When they came upon fleeing soldiers, they called on them to join them there.

The jouncing ride in the wagon seemed to jolt Marcus apart, but he fought off the pain and clung to consciousness, watching in awe and almost unbearable tension the battle raging in the skies above him.

Like a cat twisting in midair, Maristara recovered, barely avoiding smashing into the trees. She clawed her way, snarling, wings flapping, to do battle with this new and unexpected foe.

After his missed attack, Draconas spiraled upward, regaining the heights, seeking advantage. Maristara, heavier and older, turned, lumbering, to face him.

“Stop!” Marcus cried to the driver of the wagon. “I have to watch this!”

“Do as he says,” Edward commanded. “The rest of you, ride on!”

Reining in his horse beside the wagon carrying his son, Edward looked into the sky. Some of his knights remained with him, fascinated by a sight that few humans had ever seen. The two dragons hung in the air, wings barely moving, each one’s eyes fixed on the foe, engaged in a battle that was as much mental as it was physical.

Inside the little room, Marcus opened the door a crack, peering into the minds of both. If they even noticed he was there, neither could afford to pay him any mind. Neither dared turn away from the other for even a split second.