Otherworld Challenger by Jane Godman

into almost losing his grip when Vashti tumbled onto the passenger seat next to him. Iago followed close behind, hurling himself on top of her.
    Iago wasn’t a big man and his skill came from his ability as a sorcerer rather than any physical strength. He was also a coward, known to flee from a situation when things got physical. Nevertheless, he outweighed Vashti and he wasn’t allowing chivalry to stop him. Using his fists, he was systematically pounding any part of her he could reach.
    Out of the corner of his eye Jethro saw Vashti trade blow for blow, giving as good as she got. He felt an oddly proprietorial sense of pride in her. That was until she opened the passenger door. At that point any pleasure he might have taken in her accomplishments turned into instant fury.
    â€œWhat the hell are you doing?” She couldn’t hear him, of course. A series of expletives aimed in Vashti’s general direction burst from Jethro’s lips anyway. Somehow it made him feel better.
    A torrent of icy air rushed into the cabin. At the same time Vashti caught hold of Jethro’s arm, turning his attention to her. Hold me. She mouthed the words at him.
    â€œAre you out of your fucking mind?” Amorous encounters in midair might be an exciting proposition in some situations. Not this one.
    Even though she still couldn’t hear him, Vashti seemed to get the gist of that question. Shaking her head impatiently, she tugged at his arm again. Iago, doing what he did best, had given up on traditional methods and had begun to shift from human to animal form. Within seconds, in addition to the turbulent, swirling wind inside the cockpit, they had a snarling leopard. This would make a great story to recount to other pilots over a few beers. If he survived to tell it.
    His teeth already chattering wildly with the cold, Jethro grabbed Vashti’s upper body, hauling her close and pinning her to his side with one arm as he did his best to steer the plane with the other.
    Catching Iago unawares before the sorcerer had fully shifted, Vashti clung to Jethro’s arm as tightly as she could, using both feet to kick the snarling leopard toward the open passenger door. Predictably, the cat didn’t go without a fight. Gripping Vashti’s right calf with its claws, it was about to close its teeth on her ankle when she launched into another kick with her left foot. Pushing back against Jethro with all her strength, relying on him to keep hold of her, she caught the leopard full in the face. Releasing her with a guttural cry, there was nowhere for the cat to go except out the open door.
    Another kick from Vashti sealed its fate. As he began to free fall from the plane, Iago shifted briefly back into his own form. Swiftly, he changed again, stretching out his arms to become a soaring eagle. For a moment or two he flew ahead of the plane, then, wheeling nonchalantly away, he took a different course and disappeared from view.
    Moving out of Jethro’s hold, Vashti slowly altered position until she was slumped in the passenger seat. Her movements were weary and uncoordinated.
    Jethro wasn’t sure if the change in her manner was caused by cold, shock or the injury the leopard had inflicted on her leg. The priority had to be to try to get that door shut so he could find out. It was not going to be an easy task. His hands were numb on the controls, his facial muscles stiff with the effects of the glacial temperature. The frigid air was turning his labored breath to vapor in front of him. He couldn’t hear anything in his headphones and he doubted his own ability to speak coherently to air traffic control even if he was able to make contact. His brain was stubbornly refusing to process the information on the tracking system in front of him. There was no way he was capable of landing this bloody thing with neither his hands nor his brain working properly.
    How long did they have in these conditions? Jethro had no idea.