Tomaaz gave her a long look, then nodded. “I’ll come.”
“I’ll bring him. Maazini is exhausted.”
“Zaarusha says she’ll take you,” Ezaara said, striding to the door. “I’m walking. I have an urgent errand on the way.” She went into the corridor and closed the door.
“Ezaara?” Zaarusha asked.
“I can’t stand it, Zaarusha. I have to do something or I’ll go mad.”
Ezaara started running, feet pounding the stone. She ran away from the council chamber, toward the main cavern, then took the left corridor down to the storerooms. A slow burn built in her muscles. She reached down deep, seeking sathir. The air shimmered with a thin ribbon of multi-colored light. That was her connection to Zaarusha. She strained to feel the deep blue of Erob and Roberto. Nothing. She wanted to scream, but didn’t dare, so instead, she exhaled forcefully, sucking in great gulps of air. Fire leapt into her veins—she was harnessing her dragon’s power. She sped through the dark subterranean tunnels.
“Run like the wind,” Zaarusha mind-melded. “Tomaaz and I have just arrived, but not everyone’s here yet. You have a few moments to purge your sorrow before you face the council.”
“Thank the dragon gods, you understand.”
Comfort washed over Ezaara, but she shrugged it off. Pushing her muscles until they seared, she ran past the door to the dungeons. At last, she came to a staircase winding up to the rear exit of the council chamber—the exit the guards had manhandled Roberto out of when he’d been banished. Ezaara raced up the stairs until her head spun and her legs trembled. A few steps from the top, she mind-melded, “Zaarusha, is everyone there yet?”
“Two more to come: Jerrick, and Tonio—who’ll be late.”
Ezaara sat on a step and leaned back against the wall, taking slow deep breaths. Nothing had changed. Roberto was still Zens’ prisoner. But at least she no longer felt like screaming or punching something. She stood, smoothed her jerkin and opened the door to the council chamber.
Lars, leader of the council, gave her a quizzical look as she entered and took her seat beside him at the arch of the horseshoe-shaped granite table. Near the wall behind the table, the dragons crouched, scales gleaming in the torchlight. There were no natural windows in this chamber.
“You’re looking much more settled,” Zaarusha melded.
“If only I felt it.”
Seven people were at the table, including Lars. Five seats were still empty. Two masters—Shari and Jaevin—had recently been murdered. Tonio’s seat remained vacant, and Jerrick, the master archer, wasn’t here yet. The last empty spot was Roberto’s, which made Ezaara swallow, but she quashed her feelings. Now was not the time for emotion, only for action.
Tomaaz was in a chair, leaning against the wall, his chin on his chest, dozing. He’d grown thinner in Death Valley again, his cheeks gaunt and eyes ringed with exhaustion. Ma and Pa, recently restored as masters, kept glancing at him and murmuring to each other.
The huge double doors flew open and Master Jerrick entered, folding his gangly frame into his chair. “My apologies for being delayed. There’s been an uproar among the archers.”
“An uproar?” Lars asked.
“Yes, I’ll need to get back and sort it out. I hope we won’t be too long.”
Lars rapped his gavel on the table.
Tomaaz twitched and woke, his gaze meeting Ezaara’s. He stretched his leg, testing his hip.
“I declare our council meeting open,” Lars said. “I call upon our Queen’s Rider to speak, as it was she who summoned us.”
All heads swiveled to Ezaara.
For a moment she felt that old feeling of inadequacy she’d had when she’d first arrived at Dragons’ Hold. But, no, she was the Queen’s Rider. She’d earned her dues—fighting tharuks, rescuing Roberto from the Wastelands, and saving Zaarusha from traitors’ poison.
She stood and met each master’s gaze. Pa’s eyes were warm and encouraging. Ma’s were grave. Ma knew what they were here for, and the horrors of Death Valley.
Even though Roberto was in danger, there was still hope for him yet—Ma had confronted Zens and made it back. “Esteemed council members, I apologize for calling a meeting so early in the morning. As you can see, my brother has returned from Death Valley. However—”
The exit door behind her clicked shut and Tonio slid into his seat. “Apologies, my Queen’s Rider.” He gave her a curt nod, then his eyes flitted around the room, taking everyone in.
Ezaara continued, “However, Master Roberto has been captured by Commander Zens. We believe he is being held captive. We need to determine how to free him.”
Murmurs rippled around the table.
“I call upon my brother, Tomaaz, to report.” Ezaara sat.
Lars gestured at the spymaster. “Master Tonio, as Tomaaz was on your assignment, perhaps it’s best if you question him.”
Tonio rose. Pacing to the front of the table with panther-like grace, he gestured Tomaaz to stand.
Leaving Ezaara’s cane against the wall, Tomaaz walked to the front of the council table with a slightly uneven gait.
With the tiniest twitch of his brow, Tonio glanced at Tomaaz’s leg. “Before we discuss Roberto’s capture, perhaps we can see what you gleaned during your time in Death Valley. Did you manage to infiltrate Zens’ slave camp?”
“Yes, Roberto and I entered Death Valley separately. We met up every few days to compare our findings. But you need to understand, because the slaves have numlock in their water, they’re incapable of coherent speech or thought. So, there’s no gossip. I couldn’t quiz anyone about what they’d seen or heard. They’re like blind, mindless sheep.”
Tonio nodded. “Did Roberto find out anything about these new monsters?”
“Roberto got into a mining crew and went deep into the hillside to dig up yellow crystals.”
“Yellow crystals?” Lars asked. “Zens paid Bruno in yellow crystals. Roberto told me they were dangerous. Did he tell you anything about them?”
Ezaara tapped her forefinger on the granite table.
That’s right. During the traitors’ trial—when Bruno and Fleur and their son Simeon had been banished for poisoning Queen Zaarusha—a sack of Zens’ yellow crystals had been found among Bruno’s possessions.
Tomaaz shook his head. “I have no idea what they’re for.”
Tonio resumed his questions. “How was Roberto caught?”
Ezaara gripped the table.
“Roberto said he’d found important information and wanted to get back to Dragons’ Hold,” Tomaaz replied, his voice hollow. “We sneaked out of Death Valley to meet our dragons, but tharuks ambushed us, firing arrows at Maazini and Erob. A tharuk pierced Erob’s belly with an arrow with a rope attached to it. The beast yanked on the rope, tearing Erob’s skin and forcing him to land. Maazini flamed some tharuks, but they were shooting limplocked arrows at us, so we had to retreat or I could’ve lost my dragon, too.
“After dark, I slunk back to find Roberto. As I was descending the hill into Death Valley, tharuks launched a pile of boulders at me. I had no chance. My hip was crushed. Tharuks rushed to finish me off, but Maazini …” Tomaaz’s swallow was audible in the quiet chamber. “Maazini swooped down to grab me in his talons.” Tomaaz’s leg faltered.
Ma and Pa leaped up to bring him a chair, and Pa helped Tomaaz into it. “Maazini landed near Erob, and I managed to drag myself up into the saddle so we could fly home.”
“So, neither of you found out anything about Zens’ new creatures?”
Was that contempt in Tonio’s voice? Ezaara bristled.
“Roberto may have found out something, but he didn’t have a chance to tell me.”
“Was there anything that seemed contrived about his capture?”
Silence struck the cavern.
Tomaaz stared at Tonio. “Are you implying that Roberto wanted to be caught by Zens?”
“Please answer my question.”
“With all due respect, Master Tonio,
are you mad? Who in their right mind would let tharuks rip their dragon’s belly open, injuring their best friend? And who would want to help Zens?”
“We’ve just had traitors do exactly that, Tomaaz,” Tonio replied sternly. “Before you arrived here, Bruno and Fleur, masters on this council, maltreated Ajeuria, our dragon queen’s daughter. They were influenced by Zens. And they tried to poison Queen Zaarusha. We don’t yet know if they’ve influenced Unocco, Bruno’s dragon, but I suspect they must’ve or they wouldn’t have gotten away with everything for so long. Now, answer my question: did Roberto appear to be complicit in his own capture?”
White-knuckled, Ezaara’s grip on the tabletop tightened, the granite biting her palms.
“Of course not,” Tomaaz yelled, leaping to his feet. He gasped, clutching at his hip, and fell back into his chair.
Ma rushed over. “Are you all right?”
Tomaaz waved her off. “Just a twinge.”
Ma stalked over to Tonio. “My son came home last night with his hip joint shattered. It was touch and go, but we managed to heal him. I’ve recently been in Death Valley. Zens threw me around the room with the power of his mind. I nearly died.”
“Why would anyone willingly go to that monster?” asked Pa, shaking his head.
Tonio bristled. “Not willingly, Hans, but under coercion. Zens weaves some sort of magic over people. He turns them. Roberto has been his protégé before. It could happen again.”
Ezaara felt nauseous. She’d seen Zens’ cruelty through Roberto’s memories. “This has gone far enough,” she said, snatching Lars’ gavel and smacking it on the table. “I called this meeting to make rescue plans for Roberto and Erob, not to hold a trial for a crime a master hasn’t committed. The Egg knows we’ve had enough of those lately.” She shot Tonio a venomous look. He’d been instrumental in having Roberto unjustly banished to the Wastelands.
Tonio gave a cool smile, his dark eyes flashing. “Very well, my Queen’s Rider.” He turned to Tomaaz. “Please inform us of Erob’s whereabouts and the extent of his injuries.”
“Erob is near Death Valley along the border of Great Spanglewood Forest.”
“South of Monte Vista?” Tonio asked. “Or north of the Tooka River? I hope he’s not anywhere near those shrotty wizards.”
“Maazini knows the location,” Tomaaz replied. “He’ll show any dragon how to get there. I’m worried about Erob. He’s been lying there with his gut slit for five days now.”
“We must rescue Erob at once,” Lars interjected. “But it’ll take a few days to reach him. He could be dead by then.”
Pa spoke. “Actually, Marlies and I have rings of power that can get a rider and dragon to any destination instantaneously.”
“That’s impossible, Hans,” called Aidan, master of battle.
Ma interrupted. “Master Aidan, not only is it possible, I’ve used one too. That’s how we escaped Death Valley.”
“I’d heard that after Anakisha’s last battle—may her spirit fly with departed dragons—the two rings of power were lost,” Tonio said. “Now you’re telling me you have them? Did you steal them when you fled Dragons’ Hold eighteen years ago?”
Ezaara held her breath. That dirty spymaster was using every lowdown tactic, reminding everyone of how Ma had accidentally killed Zaarusha’s dragonet.
Ma met his gaze evenly. “The rings were not lost, Tonio, but given to her progeny who were scattered throughout Dragons’ Realm. Her daughter recently gifted one to Hans, and on my way to Death Valley, Anakisha’s granddaughter gifted one to me.”
Pa nodded. “Although Anakisha’s rings of power create realm gates for travel within Dragons’ Realm, every time a ring is used, the walls of the gate grow weaker, creating a ripple in sathir. Zens senses those ripples. We’ve been warned that overuse could risk Zens discovering the gates.”
“The result would be disastrous,” Ma said. “Imagine Zens appearing anywhere without warning. He could even breach Dragons’ Hold.”
Ezaara shivered. Behind her, dragon talons scratched stone. “So, now we can get to Erob, who will go?” she asked.
“I will,” Tomaaz replied.
“Not with your hip, you won’t,” Ma said.
“If I wasn’t your son, would you object?”
Ma pursed her lips. “Yes, but I know you’re too stubborn to listen. Please rest for a few hours before you leave.”
“I’m going with Tomaaz,” Hans said. “I know how the rings work.”
“Then it would seem you’re well-suited to lead the rescue, Hans. There’s still one problem.” Lars gazed around the table. “Any ideas about how to retrieve a dragon with a gaping belly wound?”
One problem? What about retrieving Roberto? Ezaara’s hand went to the crystal teardrop at her neck. If they didn’t get Roberto back, this wouldn’t be the only teardrop at this table. “I have a solution,” she said, keeping her face devoid of the rage churning within her. “Roberto had a secret.”
“Only one?” Tonio asked snarkily.
Resisting the urge to punch the spymaster, Ezaara continued, “Roberto was a great fisherman, catching the fish for all our feasts.” Nods and murmurs of assent rippled around the table. “He and Erob used nets, not a spear. If we can’t heal Erob in Spanglewood Forest, we could place the nets under his wounded belly and lift him home.”
“Anyone else with a better suggestion?” Lars scratched his blond beard as he gazed around the silent table. “Good, that’s settled. It’ll take two large dragons to lift Erob, though.”
“Handel’s large enough,” Hans said.
“Zaarusha is the largest of all,” Ezaara chimed in.
“You’d risk our Queen’s Rider and the queen?” Tonio asked, shooting Lars a meaningful look.
Lars gazed at Tonio, some hidden meaning passing between them, then turned to Ezaara. “If Zaarusha is willing, I agree.”
“Of course I’ll rescue my son,” Zaarusha melded with Ezaara, then roared her assent for the council.
Lars raised his gavel.
Ezaara placed her hand on his arm. “Master Lars, before we adjourn, there’s a matter we haven’t settled. How are we going to retrieve Master Roberto?”
“If he wants to be retrieved,” Master Tonio muttered.
Ezaara stood. “I was in this room when Roberto refused to go. He finally agreed, in order to serve his queen.”
Zaarusha roared her confirmation.
Again, meaningful glances shot between the council leader and the spymaster. What was going on?
“We need our master of mental faculties and imprinting. We must save Roberto from Zens,” Lars said. “But now that he’s in Zens’ hands, we’ll need to take precautions. I don’t want more riders or dragons captured. We’ve only just rescued your mother and brother, Ezaara.”
As if the council had helped. Pa had rescued them himself, without the council knowing what was going on. “I disagree,” said Ezaara. “We must retrieve Master Roberto as soon as possible.”
“Roberto went there on your behalf and now you’re abandoning him?” Tomaaz jabbed a finger toward Tonio. “We have to get him out.”
“And we will,” Tonio placated, “as soon as we’ve brought Erob back. He’ll have information that will be vital to rescuing Roberto. I suggest you all leave as soon as possible.”
Hopefully, they wouldn’t be too late. Erob could already be dead.
Lars raised his gavel, but Ezaara’s chair legs grated across the stone as she stood, drowning out the council leader’s words. She stalked from the meeting room, fuming.
There was no way Commander Zens would let Roberto escape after he’d thwarted Zens’ last attempt to make him his protégé. Would Zens try to bend Roberto to his will again? Or would he kill him outright?
If no one else was prepared to save him, she’d go herself.
Prank Gone Wrong
Lars shook his head. Ezaara had done well in saving Queen Zaarusha recently, but it was downright rude of her to
stalk from the meeting before he’d officially closed it. And with Roberto in Death Valley, it wasn’t as if he could have a word with her master to make sure she obeyed protocol. Guilt needled Lars. Was Roberto all right in Zens’ hands? Tonio did have a point: Roberto had survived Zens last time, and he could still be gathering information. Alternatively, he may even be on his way home now. No point rushing in when a man didn’t need rescuing.
But on the other hand … Lars didn’t want to consider the alternatives.
However, Erob was a different case altogether. The dragon was obviously stranded and injured.
Lars stowed his gavel in the cubbyhole under the table and glanced up at the nearly-empty council chamber. Why were Jerrick and Derek hanging around? That’s right; Jerrick had mentioned a problem with his archers. “Master Jerrick, what was the uproar with your archers this morning?”
Jerrick cracked his knuckles. “All of our arrows are missing, Lars. I’ve searched high and low and can’t find them anywhere.”
“Do you remember where you last had your quiver? I’m sure it will turn up soon if—” Jerrick was frowning at him like a brewing storm. “What is it?”
“Everyone’s arrows, Lars. Well, nearly all of them. Each archer has two arrows left in his quiver, and the rest are gone.”
“All of them?” Lars scratched his beard. “Have you searched the armory?”
“All gone too.”
“The blacksmith and fletcher?”
“They both said a lad collected the arrows due for the armory, but they never got there.”
Derek, master of training, added, “And no one knows who collected them or took the other arrows from the armory.”
They’d never guarded the armory. No one except dragon riders could access Dragons’ Hold, so why bother? “Do you suspect a thief? Who?”
Derek grimaced. “There’s been growing rivalry between the young sword fighters and Jerrick’s archers—arrow flingers, they call them. I suspect my charges have hidden your arrows.”
My charges, Derek had said, although they wouldn’t have been his if Master Jaevin hadn’t been murdered by Bruno and Fleur—those traitorous vipers.
Riders of Fire Box Set Page 64
