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either didn't hear or pretended not to notice.

CHAPTER THREE
     
    Sacrifices are best made by the weak.
    —Argus Kind, usurper king of the Zjhon
     
    * * *
     
    Manicured grasses rushed beneath. Issuing a triumphant grunt, the dragon thrust out its wings and somehow caught the wind. With a gut-wrenching upward lurch just before reaching the cliff, they plunged over the edge and toward the rocky shoreline below, lacking the speed most airplanes required for liftoff.
    The drop in air temperature was noticeable almost immediately. Riette clutched Emmet to her and gritted her teeth while falling toward the docks. Ships lined the deep inlet, sheltered from storms and forming a prickly fence.
    The tall man showed no emotion, and Tuck was almost composed. Emmet appeared to be enjoying himself. Riette screamed.
    Well before colliding with any of the ships, the dragon spread its wings wider. Using their speed, the beast aimed for broad, white beaches, where the air grew warmer. Circling the updrafts moved them higher but far too slowly. No sooner had they cleared the cliffs than the first diesel planes raced past them. From an open side door, men in dark coats watched.
    One pulled a portable air cannon from within his coat and aimed it at them. It fired with a thump, and a moment later, projectiles struck leather and scale. The dragon grunted but flew on, still climbing upward. The diesel plane gained altitude, turning in a wide sweep. A second plane took off, not showing any signs of Al'Zjhon. A third plane flew in from the south and dusted the airstrip before soaring out over the harbor. This plane was easily identified as a Zjhon aircraft, and it bristled with weaponry. How could they be there? Sparrowport should have been far beyond their range.
    Turning in tight circles, the dragon gained what altitude she could before any planes returned. Defenseless against the enemy, their only chance was to hide. But still they spiraled higher.
    "What are we doing?" Riette asked. The tall man ignored her. Tuck shrugged. "Does he ever talk?" she asked the boy.
    "The cap'n used to talk a lot," Tuck said. "Not much no more. Don't need no words, though. He says what he means just fine. You'll see."
    From the wood panel before her came a popping sound followed by fizzing and a dull glow. A sign showing two hands gripping handles was illuminated.
    "The cap'n has turned on the 'hold on for dear life' sign," Tuck said. "You really should'a put the kid in the box. Hold on now. Here we go."
    The dragon raced back toward the airstrips with alarming speed. Airplanes approached from two directions. They were doomed. Emmet grinned beside her as if none of this were real, as if they were in one of the stories he liked so much and nothing could actually harm them.
    Airships now lumbered into the skies, and balloons drifted on the wind. While racing past the airfield, Riette saw Brick holding his head and boarding a balloon. At least he was alive. Too bad the world had gone mad. She would have liked more time with him.
    "What's its name?" Riette asked, trying to calm her nerves.
    '" Her name is Dashiq. And she's a battle dragon."
    The captain turned his head and glared at Tuck for an instant. The boy went silent.
    A female dragon. Riette never would have guessed. There was nothing feminine about their mount, just a terrifying reptilian predator, and this one near the end of her days.
    Just then the Zjhon plane returned, falling in behind. Flitting from side to side, Dashiq did what she could to keep the plane off her tail. Air cannons sounded in rapid succession. Stone shot flew overhead, devastating historic buildings instead of their intended target.
    Dipping lower, the dragon raced between buildings, wings trimmed, dodging the falling debris and executing a sharp turn before soaring down a back street. The Zjhon plane roared above, low and slow. Just before the plane passed overhead, the dragon flew straight up, pinning Riette and Emmet back in their