The dragon lifted his head as his sides swelled out, like a drum ready to play. The roaring force of the divine wind tore out of his jaws, but this time directed at the air above another arrowhead-shaped flight of drakes before they could climb too far over his head, rather than directly at them. The force disrupted and distorted the air visibly, punching a ragged hole in the shrapnel cloud before it was rapidly filled in by another burst. Temeraire snorted, and took note, in some corner of his mind; bad idea. Aim down.

But the roar also disrupted the rank, breaking it up from a smoothly disciplined maneuver to shrieking, backwinging drakes wheeling this way and that. The one flying highest in the formation toppled from the sky completely, blood streaming from its nostrils. Still others lost their riders, but one of the most notice was the drake that crashed down on Temeraire's back, missing Nero but causing the big dragon to nearly buckle in surprise.

Even as big as he was, if most of the boarding soldiers hadn't already been deployed, they would have been crushed. The drake had landed on its belly, aft of Temeraire's shoulders and signal flags and where Nero was sitting. The creature still possessed a rider, but was too busy scrabbling at Temeraire's armor trying to regain traction to breathe any fire.