Riders of Fire Box Set

by Eileen Mueller

  “When did you poison the blade?” Tonio asked.

  “Yesterday, during the after-race celebrations.”

  The race had only been yesterday. A lifetime ago, when the world had been full of possibility. And love.

  “Where did you source the poison?” Tonio asked. “If dragon’s bane only grows in Lush Valley, did Ezaara give it to you?”

  He rolled his eyes. “It’s common in many places, including Naobia. Any proper healer would know that.”

  Master Bruno yelled, “I’ll not have you speak about my wife like that!”

  Roberto laughed, a hard, arrogant bark that made Ezaara’s skin break out in cold prickles.

  How could she have believed him? Their love had felt so real. So beautiful. Just what she’d dreamed of. His icy arrogance fit him like a natural skin. This was reality. The man she loved was a traitor, a liar, plotting against her queen.

  Lars sighed. “Roberto.” His voice was tender, as if he was speaking to a son, but grim lines furrowed his brow. “You saw the damage your father did. You vowed never to be like him. Your talents are valued here. Why would you do this?”

  What had Roberto’s father done?

  Roberto stared at Lars, eyes cold, refusing to speak.

  Lars tried again. “And your relationship with the Queen’s Rider?”

  Roberto’s upper lip curled. “Relationship? What relationship?” He regarded her the way a buyer at a market would gaze upon rotten fish entrails.

  Her cheeks burned with shame. She met his eyes. There was nothing warm there now. “Roberto, this can’t be true. Tell me it isn’t. Please.” It was a desperate plea sent into a cold hard void.

  “She’s not the real Queen’s Rider, is she?” Tonio’s words struck Ezaara like a whip. “You only pretended to test her.”

  “Yes, I am,” Ezaara cried.

  Zaarusha roared.

  “She is the Queen’s Rider,” Roberto said. “Their bond is strong. But banish me, and you won’t have anyone to test your imprinting bonds again.”

  “Or feed that information to Zens,” Tonio snapped.

  Lars looked sick, his face tinged gray, sweat on his forehead. “Master of Mental Faculties and Imprinting, Roberto, son of Amato, is now stripped of his title and is no longer a part of this council,” he announced. “He’ll be banished to the Wastelands within the hour. Take him to the dungeons. His sister may farewell him before he goes. Ezaara, our Honored Queen’s Rider, has been cleared of all charges. This trial is adjourned.” The crack of Lars’ gavel nearly split Ezaara’s heart in two.

  At the rear of the chamber, Erob bellowed, lashing out with his talons. Blue Guards restrained him with javelins and ropes as more guards marched Roberto out of the chamber through a side tunnel.

  “Adelina,” Ezaara called out, but Adelina ignored her, striding after Roberto, chin high and eyes shiny with unshed tears.

  “Clear the room,” Lars commanded. “The masters and dragons have urgent matters to attend to.”

  “Zaarusha!”

  “It’s all right, Ezaara. It was a mistake to trust him. It was lucky he confessed before you were cast out.”

  Gods, it was lucky. Because of his confession, her name had been cleared. “What if he’s lying?”

  “Erob said the same. But I doubt it. Roberto has obviously inherited his father’s disposition, like Tonio always feared.”

  Ezaara was swept out the main doors amid the crowd. Although she was surrounded by people, everyone avoided eye contact and no one came near. Fleur’s and Tonio’s accusations had created a granite wall between Ezaara and her people.

  §

  Adelina stumbled along the tunnel. Roberto. No, not Roberto. Ma, dead. Roberto, banished.

  She had no one left. No one.

  Not that her father had been a loss. They’d all been glad to see the back of him. Life had been peaceful after his death. After he’d paralyzed Ma. She choked back tears, cursing his watery grave. She hadn’t swum in Crystal Lake again since he’d died there.

  It hadn’t been easy, growing up with an older brother who was fighting inner demons, but Roberto had always been gentle with her. More gentle than with anyone else. As if he’d understood her need to be protected, after what they’d been through. He’d become her mother and father. And fought tooth and talon to keep her, refused to foster her out, although that’s what most thirteen-year-olds would’ve done if their parents were dead.

  And now he was imprisoned, headed for the Wastelands.

  He had no chance. Although Roberto had survived other forms of hell—everyone had said he’d never come back from Death Valley—he wouldn’t be coming back this time. If cats had nine lives, Roberto had used all of his twice over.

  There was something about the whole trial that was off. Roberto loved being a dragon master, loved the realm. There was no way he would’ve hurt anyone or risked being half naked in—

  That must have been the day Ezaara had healed him and Simeon had walked in.

  Why hadn’t Roberto told Lars about piaua? Why hadn’t he asked Ezaara to testify? Questions swirling in her mind, Adelina traipsed down the dingy tunnel to the dungeons, following her brother, the only other surviving member of her family.

  §

  “Adelina.” Roberto’s face was haggard. They clasped hands through the cold bars of the dungeon. “They’ll banish me, they have to.” He slipped something between them, into her pocket. His eyes were fiery with some insistent message that she couldn’t grasp.

  “Over my dead body!” Adelina snapped. By the Egg, they’d been through so much. It couldn’t end like this.

  “No,” he insisted. “They have to, can’t you see?”

  He wanted to be banished. “After all you’ve worked for.” Her throat tightened.

  “And undone.” His eyes flicked to the guards behind her. Those eyes were pleading with her to understand something important—but what?

  “Time’s up,” a guard called.

  “Yes,” said Adelina. “Of course.”

  Eyes burning, she made her way back up the tunnels, determined not to cry. She’d had years of practice at hiding her emotions.

  Slipping her hand into her pocket, Adelina drew out the Queen’s Rider’s green ribbon, warm where Roberto had held it. Oh, shards! He’d taken the blame to protect Ezaara. She blinked back tears, but it was useless. Warm rivulets coursed down her cheeks.

  This was harder than Pa’s treachery. His abuse. His death.

  Harder than Ma’s death. Because Roberto had been there.

  And now, she had no one.

  §

  Ezaara raced to her cavern. She lifted her mattress, and snatched up her healer’s pouch.

  Roberto had been lying. He’d melded and shown her his true self, only it wasn’t his true self. The man she’d glimpsed and loved had been a traitor. The admiration in his eyes, the way he’d lit every corner of her being with light, shone a torch on her darkest fears and given her strength to race with fire in her veins—it had all been a ruse. Some sort of mental trick to get her onside. The first step in destroying her.

  A sham, nothing but a sham. Lofty’s clumsy kiss had been more genuine than her mind-meld with Roberto.

  But Gods, how she loved him. How she wanted him back.

  Master of mental faculties, well, he’d proven that. He’d mastered melding and fooling her, easily. By the Egg, she was so ignorant. So trusting, so easy to dupe into love.

  Only it wasn’t love. It was a lie.

  His lie. The master of lies, deceit and murder.

  She ran, her feet pounding a tattoo into the stone floors to Jaevin’s door. Hopefully, the dragon’s bane hadn’t finished Roberto’s work. Hopefully, they had a chance …

  Ezaara knocked.

  A woman opened the door, wisps of sweat-drenched hair clinging to her worry-creased brow. She started. “What do you want?” she snapped. “Have you come to gloat?”

  “Who is it?” a feeble male voice called.r />
  “The one who poisoned you,” the woman spat, pushing the door to shut it.

  Ezaara jammed her foot in the gap, so the woman couldn’t shut her door. “They’ve banished someone else. It wasn’t me,” she shot, her chest squeezing as she pictured Roberto’s face. Shards, no! It was him. “I have the antidote. I can save Master Jaevin.”

  “I’m not letting you near my husband. You’ll probably give him more dragon’s bane.” Jaevin’s wife shoved on the door, but Ezaara held it fast.

  “Threcia, let her in,” Jaevin called. “I’m dying. If she finishes me off, at least I’ll be out of my misery. But you never know, she might just save me. Any remedy is worth trying.”

  “Master Jaevin,” Ezaara called. “I’ve been trained as a healer. I don’t kill people—I save them, if I can.”

  “Go on, Threcia, please.” Jaevin sounded exhausted.

  His wife looked dubious. “Come in, then.” Threcia barely held the door open wide enough for Ezaara to squeeze through.

  Jaevin lay in a makeshift bed, in their living area, near a stoked fire. His face was pale and his breathing raspy. Ezaara felt his forehead—cool, but beaded in sweat.

  “He’s cold, always cold,” said Threcia, tugging his blanket up. “And his breathing’s shallow.”

  “What did Fleur give you?”

  “This tea.” Threcia thrust a cup at her.

  Ezaara sniffed it. Woozy weed—a sleeping draft. No use against dragon’s bane. “Did she give you any other remedies?”

  “This, against the pain in his chest.” Threcia passed her a tonic. Again, to ease a symptom, not the cause.

  Dragon’s bane made the airways, throat and lungs tighten and slowly close down. If the dose was strong enough, the victim would die within a day. Without an antidote, there was no chance of survival.

  Roberto had done this.

  It didn’t make sense. His kind gifts, his tenderness, love and wonder when they’d melded …

  But he’d looked every bit a hardened killer as he’d confessed, spurning her and the realm. He’d taken advantage of her ignorance. A slow burning anger spread through her, each thud of her heart a count of the ways he’d fooled her.

  “Jaevin, can you swallow?”

  He nodded, face pale, lips tinged blue. Threcia’s eyes were locked on his face, shiny with tears. This was true love, tested over years, not the flashy show of emotion Ezaara had felt for her master.

  “Threcia, get Vino to warm a third of a cup of water.”

  Threcia rushed off and was back within moments. Ezaara mixed eight pinches of antidote—a pale green powder made of finely crushed rubaka leaves—stirring until it had dissolved, then propped Jaevin up and helped him drink.

  Once he’d swallowed the last drop, she sat, holding his wrist where the veins ran across the bone, feeling his heartbeat. Now that she’d administered the antidote, Ezaara fought her urge to rush out the door. She had to make sure this worked. Jaevin’s life was more important than what was happening to Roberto.

  Deep in the bowels of the caverns, a drum boomed. Then another. The stone under Ezaara’s chair pulsed like a dragon’s heartbeat, the floor resonating with a deep cadence that throbbed through her boot soles. Waves of sound kept rolling around them. The mournful keening of a dragon was a sad counterpoint to the drums’ rhythm.

  “The banishment drums.” Threcia’s gaze softened. “I’m glad it wasn’t you.”

  “Who poisoned me?” Jaevin wheezed.

  “Master Roberto.” Ezaara’s voice cracked.

  “No,” Jaevin whispered, face lined with shock. “No, not Roberto, I trusted him.”

  Exactly. Ezaara hardened her heart. She couldn’t allow space for traitors. She mixed another draft and put it on the table. “Drink this in two hours.”

  Jaevin drifted to sleep, his breathing not completely right, but improved. Threcia walked her to the door and clasped Ezaara’s hands. “Thank you.”

  “Please don’t mention I’ve been here. If anyone else comes by, tell them he’s sleeping.”

  Threcia narrowed her eyes. “Why? Master Roberto will be gone.”

  Gone. He flashed to mind, standing calf-deep in the water, eyes golden in the sunlight. Laughing and carefree as they’d raced together as riders of fire, his love washing over her. She’d never see him again. A pang shot through Ezaara, as strong as Alban’s stomach punch. No! She fought it. He was a traitor. It was good riddance. “Keep Master Jaevin safe until he’s fully recovered. He’ll be weak for a few days, and it may be a while before he’s himself again. Until then, it’s best he doesn’t have visitors.” Especially Fleur, who was as good as useless. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours to check on him, after you’ve given him the draft.”

  Threcia kissed Ezaara, her tears spilling onto Ezaara’s cheek. “Thank you for saving his life.”

  It was a healer’s duty to save lives, not take them. “I’m glad I could help.”

  “The Egg bless your mother for teaching you. I don’t care what Tonio says, my family will serve you and yours.” She bowed. “My Honored Queen’s Rider.”

  Ezaara’s eyes pricked. “Remember, not a word to anyone.”

  “Of course,” Threcia said. “Master Roberto may have accomplices.”

  Adelina? She hadn’t thought of her. Ezaara left, and ran, drums pulsing beneath her feet, Erob’s howls filling the tunnels. She had to find Adelina. And, despite him being a killer, she yearned to see Roberto, one last time.

  §

  Heart thudding, Ezaara tried one passage after another. Strange—most of the corridors were empty. Finally, she found a tunnel with stairs winding down into the bowels of the mountain. It was cold down here, so cold. She pulled her jerkin tighter.

  Feet pounding stone, she came to another tunnel with a locked door. Guards blocked it, swords drawn. “No admittance to the dungeons. Only the traitor’s sister may see him.”

  Ezaara mustered her haughtiest tone. “Please move aside for the Queen’s Rider.”

  “Sorry. Master Lars said you weren’t to see him. It’s for your own protection.”

  Nothing would sway them.

  Ezaara tried to meld with Roberto. Nothing.

  She’d have to wait for Adelina. She retreated along the tunnel, ducking into a deserted chamber, ricocheting drumbeats throbbing through her head, and her boots gnawing a hole in the stone.

  Time seemed to last forever.

  The drums stopped. Erob’s keening died. The sudden silence stifled Ezaara like an overly-thick cloak.

  Finally, along the tunnel, the door thudded. A small cloaked figure bolted past the chamber.

  “Adelina,” Ezaara called out.

  Adelina sped up. She mustn’t have heard.

  “Adelina,” Ezaara yelled.

  Adelina raced up the winding stairs. She was deliberately ignoring her. No one could’ve missed that.

  Ezaara quickened her pace, following Adelina along the deserted tunnels. When they’d walked so long that Ezaara was in a passage she’d never seen before, Adelina stopped outside a door.

  She whirled to face Ezaara, eyes red-rimmed. Her usually cheerful face was closed. Hard. “I know you’re following me, but don’t.”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “No, you don’t. You’re the last person I want to talk to.”

  It was a knife to her gut. “I want to check you’re all right.” And Roberto … she wanted to see him.

  Adelina rolled her bloodshot eyes.

  “What have I done?”

  “What. Have. You. Done?” With each word, Adelina stabbed a finger in Ezaara’s face. Eyes fiery, she snapped, “You’ve sentenced my brother to death.”

  “No!” What? Ezaara reeled, gut-punched. “No, Adelina, he poisoned Jaevin.” The pot of dragon’s bane, his confession, had sealed his fate, not her. “Tonio saw him with the pot …” The scathing hatred on Adelina’s face stopped her.

  “You’re as dumb as Fleur.” Adelina thrust open th
e door, strode through it and slammed it in Ezaara’s face. “Go away!” she yelled through the wood.

  That hurt. But not as much as Adelina was hurting. Hang on, this wasn’t Adelina’s cavern. Whose was it?

  Ezaara pushed the door open. It was Roberto’s. Erob’s ornate saddlebags were leaning against a wall. Adelina was slumped on Roberto’s bed, one of his jerkins in her hands. The cavern smelt like him—mint and sandalwood and male. A memory of flying with him came flooding back. Of him holding her, safely cocooned, after her stunt. She tried to swallow it down, but couldn’t.

  “You don’t get it, do you?” Adelina wrung his garment in her hands. “I asked Roberto to tell the truth, but he refused.”

  “But he did tell the truth. At the trial, he said—”

  “How could you be Queen’s Rider and be so dumb?” Adelina’s face was frankly incredulous. “My brother sacrificed his life to save yours. He’s innocent.”

  “Oh!” Ezaara’s stomach was a hollow yawning chasm. She was spinning, dropping into an endless void. “I—I—” She’d been too angry, too blind, too stupid to see …

  “Why didn’t you vouch for him?” Adelina demanded.

  “He made me promise not to argue with him …. What about that pot Tonio saw?”

  Adelina bit her lip. “The night you arrived. Oil for your cane.”

  Adelina’s mother’s cane. Roberto had freshly carved and oiled it, after only just meeting her. He’d cared for her, right from the start. And how had she repaid him?

  “My brother would never poison Jaevin. How could you believe that?”

  “When I told him I had the antidote, he said to keep it secret. Not to heal Jaevin … it seemed off. Why would he keep the remedy secret?”

  “Well, think about it.” Adelina tapped her foot against the bed like a mad woodpecker. “Do you trust Fleur?” Adelina’s glance stabbed Ezaara. “Oh, figure it out yourself!”

  Oh shards. He’d been preventing Fleur from destroying the remedy. She’d been a double fool. Now they’d lose him. But it wasn’t too late. Surely she could do something. “I have to talk to him. Have to vouch for him, tell Lars.”

  “It’s too late. He’s gone.” Her voice hollow, Adelina slumped on the bed. “Didn’t you hear the banishment drums?”