to the clear blue sky above. ‘Again?’ she groaned aloud. ‘Apparently,’ Tats said with vast approval. He swivelled his head. ‘Where is he?’ Tintaglia was overhead. As they watched, she spiralled upward, ever higher. She trumpeted again, and they heard it answered from the east. They both turned to watch Kalo coming. This was not the leisurely circling of a dragon seeking game, nor the diving fall of a dragon strike. His long powerful wings drove him forward and upward. He looked black against the blue of the sky,
