Riders of Fire Box Set

by Eileen Mueller

She awoke to a thud in Zaarusha’s den.

  “Erob’s here,” Zaarusha warned.

  Moments later, Roberto appeared. “You skipped dinner.”

  “I was tired.” She’d been asleep before her stomach had rumbled, but now she was ravenous.

  “As Queen’s Rider you need to take care of yourself.”

  “That’s why I was sleeping.” Ezaara rolled her eyes. “I’m exhausted. Is that any surprise after the last few days?”

  “Not really,” Roberto admitted, a flash of sympathy in his eyes. “Here.” He reached into his pocket and passed her a small cloth bundle.

  “Mm, smells divine.” Like lemon and something. She unwrapped it. A lemon poppy seed cake. Ezaara moaned in pleasure as she bit into the warm gooey center and crunched the delicate seeds. “Thanks.” It was just right. Not too sweet, not too sour.

  He smiled, watching her eat. “I’m glad you like it.” His voice was soft.

  When she was finished, he strode out to the queen’s den. Ezaara threw a heavy cloak around her shoulders and joined him.

  “Sometimes riders lose their seat in battle, or half slip out of the saddle,” Roberto said. “Tonight, we’re going to practice stunt riding, so you have the skills to right yourself again if you get into trouble. You have to trust your dragon. Zaarusha knows what’s best, so follow her commands, even if you can’t see why she asks you to do something. Obedience is key.”

  “The cheek of him, after you and I flew a loop.” Zaarusha’s voice was more playful than indignant. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?”

  “Anything you say, My Queen. Obedience is key.” Ezaara smothered a smile as she climbed into the saddle.

  §

  Ezaara’s hair shone in the moonlight as she tied it back with her slender fingers. She was suppressing a smile. Her emotions were always so bright, so colorful, so close to the surface, like a bubble welling up in a spring.

  He was falling for her, a little more each day he worked with her. He’d pushed her hard, demanding only her best, driving her to her limits. She hadn’t cracked, rising to each challenge, her competitive spirit taking the bit and thundering for the finish line. Even her knife throwing had improved. Today she’d hit every target. But he didn’t dare let her know how much he admired her. He had to maintain a hard exterior. She was his student. A slight whiff of indiscretion and he’d be banished, and everything he’d worked toward since his father’s betrayal would crumble. His whole world would be lost if he revealed he loved her.

  Lars and the council would soon test her to gauge whether her skills were up to scratch. He had to make sure she was ready.

  They rose above the basin, the forest a shadowy cloak around the lake—glinting silver in the moonlight.

  “Ezaara,” he called across the air between them. “Take your feet out of the stirrups for a start.”

  Grinning, Ezaara did as he asked.

  “Now you need to—” He gaped as she knelt on the saddle, then crouched and straightened to stand. “Ezaara!” He couldn’t help the strident warning that crept into his voice. “Be careful.”

  “Why? You said we were going to do stunts.” Ezaara grinned, full of life and mischief. She stepped—onto nothing. Arms wheeling, shock flew across her face. She plummeted into the darkness.

  Zaarusha flipped her tail, plunging after her.

  “Dive, Erob! Dive.” Fangs! They were going to lose her.

  Like a hawk after prey, Zaarusha sped down.

  “Faster, Erob, faster.” Roberto leaned forward on Erob’s neck, willing him more speed. If she died …

  Roberto glimpsed a bright thread of color, stretched taut between him and Ezaara. A thread that brought him joy and hope. That had given him hope since the day he’d tested her. A strong thread that could help him be a better person, if he could cling onto it. If she survived.

  Still she fell.

  No, not Ezaara, so vibrant and full of life. She couldn’t die, not now. Not when he’d just realized how he felt about her. She was special, the first Queen’s Rider in years. He’d always admired her: her bravery in facing the council after imprinting; her courage to try anything; her horror at injuring Sofia; her healing skills; and her joy of life. She hadn’t had her littling life ripped away by someone she loved. She hadn’t had her innocence destroyed, or been used as a pawn. She was wholesome, a backwater girl from Lush Valley, who loved life and trusted her dragon implicitly.

  With a slap, like a whale’s tail on the ocean, Zaarusha snatched Ezaara in her talons.

  The Queen’s Rider laughed.

  Erob chuckled too.

  And that’s when Roberto realized it was a stunt.

  §

  The plunge through the night sky was exhilarating, making every fiber of Ezaara’s being jump to life. To trust so completely, love so completely, to place her life in Zaarusha’s hands—well, talons—that was living. This is what she’d yearned for in Lush Valley. She’d risk her life for the queen, give her life for her realm. She was Ezaara, Queen’s Rider.

  “I told you back in Lush Valley, you were born to be my rider.”

  “If only I’d believed it.”

  “Get ready.”

  With a whump, Zaarusha caught her, cradling her in her talons. “I think we’ve frightened the scales off Roberto.”

  Ezaara laughed. “I didn’t know he had scales; he must keep them well hidden. Maybe we’ve scared him into being nicer. Maybe he won’t be so tough on me now. Not that I’d intended to scare him.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, maybe a little.”

  “He’s not being tough. He’s challenging you, so you can better serve the realm.”

  “Not tough? I’d hate to see him when he’s trying to be.”

  “Roberto has faced things that would break most men.” Zaarusha flipped her wings, spiraling down toward a field. “Stretch your legs, and tell me when to let you go. It’d be a shame to squash you when I land.” The queen chuckled.

  Ezaara’s feet brushed the tall grass. “Now, let go.”

  She rolled as she hit the meadow. Luckily it was soft, not stony. Zaarusha thudded to the grass nearby, and moments later Erob landed.

  Roberto dismounted and strode over, sword hilt glinting in the moonlight. He took her by the shoulders, onyx eyes stormy. “Ezaara.” His breath was ragged.

  She was about to mumble her apologies when he pulled her against his chest, murmuring into her hair. “Dragon’s bleeding fangs! I thought I’d lost you.” The scent of mint and sandalwood enveloped her.

  For once, Ezaara had nothing to say.

  Tharuk Attack

  Last night he’d failed. He’d slipped up, taken her in his arms out of sheer relief that she was all right. And once she’d been there, it had been hard to let her go. The smell of her hair reminded him of the days before his father had turned. Happy days playing in the sun, fishing and tending the animals. Running through meadows, swimming in lakes and laughing.

  His last few years with his family had seldom given him reason to laugh. And many reasons to cry. Until he’d hardened himself, locked away his tears and moved on. Only Adelina remained. His father had destroyed everything else in his life. Roberto kicked at an old shoe lying on his cavern floor.

  Ezaara reminded him of everything good in the world. Of innocence. Of loving family bonds. Of fun, dare he think it. Of warmth and friendship. Everything he’d denied himself for years. He sighed and tugged his jerkin shut. And he would deny himself her, for her own sake, and his.

  “I’m ready. Will you stop mooching around?”

  Roberto snorted. “Mooching?”

  “Now you’re snorting almost as well as me.” Erob gave a dragonly snort that echoed off his den walls outside.

  Roberto chuckled. Where would his life be without Erob?

  A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered his life among tharuks.

  §

  Whatever Roberto had demonstrated last night was gone. The tenderness she�
��d felt as he’d held her. The vibration of his deep voice through his chest. The warmth and firmness of his torso. The peace she’d felt, the sense of one-ness at being in his arms—it was gone.

  All gone.

  He struck her shoulder with the flat of his sword. “Faster.” A tap on the hip. “Block, Ezaara.”

  She lunged, sweat trickling into her eye, and missed him. Their swords clashed again.

  “A sleeping tharuk could do better. Try.”

  Whirling, she advanced, gaining ground. He beat her back.

  They’d been training for hours. She was dying of thirst. “Water,” she gasped.

  He nodded. “Only a sip. There’s no time to stop in battle.”

  No sooner had she taken a swig, he bellowed, “Run. Race you to the knife-throwing range.”

  Groaning, she ran after him. So unfair, he had a head start. She couldn’t let him win. Sprinting, she chewed up the ground between them. Where in the Egg’s name did he get his energy from?

  Panting, Ezaara reached the range on his heels, spurted past him and threw her knife without stopping.

  He whistled. “Good shot, but it may be a fluke. Another.

  “And another.

  “And another.”

  Roberto drew his sword and they were fighting again. His blade smacked her knuckles. This would never end. Dragonback archery was bound to be next. Ezaara’s life was one endless, merciless round of sweat and pain.

  §

  Roberto woke to a battle horn.

  “Wake up,” Erob melded. “River’s Edge is under attack.”

  Throwing on his clothes and boots, Roberto grabbed his weapons and jumped on Erob. “To the council chambers,” he melded. “Tell Zaarusha that Ezaara should prepare for battle.”

  “Already done.”

  Roberto and Erob reached the council chambers at the same time as Shari and Jerrick. Behind them Tonio, Bruno and Fleur were arriving. They dismounted and strode inside. Aidan and Lars were deep in discussion over a weathered map. Within moments, the council was gathered.

  “River’s Edge, a village near Montanara, is under attack by tharuks.” Lars announced. “The village only has a small fighting force. Unless we engage, they’ll be slaughtered. We’re sending dragons and fighters. Our battle master will instruct us.”

  Aidan pushed the map along the table. He pointed his stubby finger at a village a few river bends south of Montanara. “The villagers are outnumbered. The fighting is so thick, dragons can’t use flame for fear of hurting our people. Jerrick, we need a squad of forty archers on dragonback to circle the area and prevent tharuk reinforcements from reaching the village. Jaevin, ready your sword fighters. Alyssa’s squad will drop them close by, for hand-to-hand combat. Alyssa, only three people per dragon, we don’t want to tire them. The archers will form two squads to pick off beasts from the air—one led by Tonio, one by me. Bruno, any foresight about this fight?”

  Roberto repressed a snort. They were asking Bruno’s opinion.

  Bruno’s voice was assured. “This is nothing but a minor skirmish. My prophecy tells me you’ll be successful.”

  “Tonio, any other intelligence?” Aidan demanded.

  “Nothing,” said Tonio. “We don’t have any dragon corps spies near River’s Edge, but blue guards from Montanara are on their way.”

  Aidan nodded. “Good. We’ll leave as soon as everyone has formed up. Lars, the time is now yours.”

  Lars stood. “Fleur, prepare the infirmary for wounded, and take supplies and healers there.” Lars stabbed the map, indicating the next village over. “We may have to ferry patients to you. Roberto.”

  Roberto’s head whipped up.

  “I want you to—”

  The doors burst open. Ezaara rushed in.

  Lars’ surprise was painted across his face. “My Honored Queen’s Rider, you haven’t finished your training. This isn’t a drill. We need capable archers, not novices.”

  Ezaara’s chin lifted and her eyes flashed. “Master Roberto.” She turned to face him.

  Great, she was going to drag him into this.

  “Am I a capable archer?”

  A ripple of tension ran around the room. Roberto nodded. “Yes, of course. More than capable.” Apart from Shari, all the masters looked incredulous. “Ezaara is one of the best archers at Dragons’ Hold.”

  Jerrick’s head snapped up. “Best archer? I don’t believe it!”

  “What’s not to believe? I’m the Queen’s Rider,” Ezaara retorted, “not an ornament to be left on a shelf.”

  Erob melded with him. “Zaarusha has warned me that Ezaara won’t be fobbed off.”

  Time to stick his neck out. Roberto stood. All heads swiveled to face him. “Our Honored Queen’s Rider has a point,” he said quietly. Was that relief that flashed across Ezaara’s face? “We’ve waited long for a Queen’s Rider. Now that we have one, she should fight.”

  The room erupted.

  Zaarusha swooped through the doors, her roar bouncing off the chamber walls. The queen of the dragons stalked to Lars.

  Lips pursed, Lars placed his hand above Zaarusha’s eye ridges, so they could mind-meld. Turning to the council, Lars announced, “Zaarusha wishes to take Ezaara to battle. She says they’ve fought tharuks together before. I concur: she may go.”

  Excitement radiated from Ezaara. Colors cascaded through Roberto, then they were gone.

  Lars stabbed a finger in the air toward Ezaara. “Honored Queen’s Rider, you must stay on dragonback. You may engage as an archer, but only from the air. You are not, under any circumstances, allowed to fight on foot at close range with tharuks.”

  “Certainly,” Ezaara replied, lashes lowered.

  Her manner reminded Roberto of their first archery session and her flight stunt, putting him on edge. Was her concurrence a ruse? Would she put herself in danger? He touched the pocket holding her ribbon. He’d vouched for her, and whatever she did, he was sworn as her protector.

  §

  Zaarusha landed in the clearing below her den, Erob next to her. Ezaara could hardly sit still in the saddle, she was so jittery. The clearing was filled with dragons, gravel crunching underfoot as they landed. Roberto dismounted, pulled a bundle out of his saddlebags and came over, motioning her to get down. She slid down Zaarusha’s side.

  He passed her some rolled-up fabric. “Here’s an archer’s cloak to keep out the cold.”

  “Thank you.” Ezaara wrapped the thick cloak around her shoulders and fastened it down the front, slipping her arms out the arm holes. Roberto adjusted her quiver so her arrows poked through the tailor-made hole.

  Roberto took a deep breath. “Please, heed Lars’ warning. Fight from dragonback only. You’re too valuable for us to lose.” Without waiting for an answer, he strode to Erob and jumped astride him.

  Valuable—what was that about? Another way of pressuring her to keep Lars’ rules?

  A figure hurtled out of the main cavern, running through the dragons to Erob. Adelina reached up to squeeze Roberto’s hands and murmured something to him. He smiled, a gentleness coming over his face that Ezaara seldom saw.

  Adelina came over to Ezaara and squeezed her hands too. “Good luck, My Queen’s Rider, may you fly swiftly and come home unharmed.” A moment later she was gone.

  Ezaara climbed into her saddle and cinched herself in.

  Clatter filled the air like stones bouncing down a mountainside. Ezaara spun. It wasn’t an avalanche, but the rustle of a hundred wings as more dragons swooped down from the mountainside.

  All these dragons for a fight in a village? What would all-out war be like? Weapons clanked and leather creaked around her as riders adjusted the girths on their dragons’ saddles.

  A few dragons over, Gret was perched behind two others, sword at her side. She waved to Ezaara, grinning. So Gret would be fighting on the ground. Ezaara waved back. Hopefully, she’d be safe, facing those monsters up close.

  Master Jerrick thrust an extra quiver of arrows int
o Zaarusha’s saddlebag. “Make these count,” he said. “If you’re as good as Master Roberto says, every arrow should find a tharuk.”

  Ezaara nodded. “Yes, Master Jerrick.”

  Roberto raised his eyebrows. “Ready?”

  Ezaara swallowed. “Of course.” Around them, riders were watching. She forced herself to smile and sit straighter in the saddle.

  Zaarusha melded, “Whatever happens, hold on tight. I don’t want to lose you in midair.” In the moonlight, her scales were glorious.

  Aidan stood before the assembled warriors. “We’ve sworn to protect the realm, to preserve the peace, and not to let Zens’ tharuks enslave our people. Get in fast, strike hard and save the settlers of River’s Edge.” He pumped his fist in the air.

  Amid dragon roars, riders cheered. Zaarusha and Erob took to the sky. Tugging Roberto’s cloak around her against the chill, Ezaara marveled as the undulating mass of dragons broke into four squadrons, North, South, East and West, each with a master at the front.

  She and Roberto were at the center of the compass, protected on all sides.

  “And from below,” Zaarusha rumbled in Ezaara’s mind. “I’ll blast anyone who attacks you, and Erob will protect you from above.”

  “Above?”

  “If necessary.”

  Ezaara gazed up at the dark sky, the stars like a littling’s shiny scatter stones on a dark blanket. Could her family see the same stars tonight? Hopefully Ma was safe. And Tomaaz and Pa. Her chest tightened. If anything happened to her tonight, she’d never see them again.

  Soon, the long fingers of dawn were stretching across the horizon, smearing yellow paint above the flatlands, glancing off the mountains to their left. The golden light cast Roberto’s face a beautiful shade of bronze.

  “Focus,” Zaarusha rumbled. “We’re nearly there. Ready your bow.”

  Alongside, Erob snorted and Roberto fastened his waist harness and nocked an arrow in his bow.

  Ezaara leaned low, her bow nocked, as Zaarusha descended toward a plume of smoke. River’s Edge was nestled in the sweeping bend of a broad river. Houses were on fire. Tharuks swarmed through the streets, attacking men, women and littlings. Screams and roars rent the air. More tharuks were flooding into the village from the forest. Isolated pockets of beasts were chasing villagers across fields.