How I wish I could hear that conversation, Tryss thought. Are they offering each other a chance to back off? Are they tossing threats and boasts of strength back and forth like children? This was supposed to be a religious war, he reminded himself. Perhaps they’re having a theological argument. He began to imagine how it might go.

“My gods are real.”

“No they’re not; mine are.”

“Yours aren’t real.”

“Are too!”

He choked back a laugh. I’m being silly now. This is serious. People are going to die.

All humor fled at that thought. As the two figures parted, Tryss’s stomach clenched again. He watched them rejoin their armies.

The distant sound of horns rang out. The Pentadrian army surged forward and the Circlians followed suit. As the roar of voices reached Tryss, Sirri’s whistle pierced the air. It was time for the Siyee to join the battle. As one, the Siyee dropped into a dive.

The two armies had not yet met, but Tryss could see the air in the valley twist and glow as magical attacks met magical shields. Strange tearing, shrieking noises reached him and the occasional boom sent a vibration through the air.

It must be deafening down there, he thought.

The black cloud spiralling above the Pentadrian army fragmented and rushed upward. Part of it sped toward Tryss. He forgot all else as the black birds drew rapidly closer. Whistling orders, he directed his flight to fly straight for them, then set his fingers firmly on the levers of his harness.

“Attack!”

The spring of his harness sang. He heard the twang of others. A swarm of darts enveloped the black birds. Tryss cheered as the creatures shrieked and fell. He gave the signal to veer aside, grinning as his people whooped with triumph and indulged in a few fancy acrobatic moves.

Then he heard a shriek of pain and his heart sank like a stone. He twisted around to see that some of the birds had survived and had latched onto the legs of one of the Siyee. Their weight was dragging her down and they were clawing along her trousers toward her wings.

Not sure what he could do but hoping he would think of something, Tryss dived toward her. He could hardly use his hands to remove the birds. Instead he clenched his teeth, folded his arms and barrelled into the girl’s legs. He heard squawks and a yell of surprise, and felt himself falling. Extending his arms, he caught the wind and turned back to see what had happened.

The Siyee woman was free. Her legs were bleeding. He could see a bird flying below them, unharmed but clearly stunned. Tryss quickly caught his blowpipe between his teeth, sucked in a dart and let it loose.