Riders of Fire Box Set

by Eileen Mueller

  When Kierion returned, Marlies held the flame near Adelina’s face, lifting her eyelids and examining her pupils. “They’re still dilating, so she should be fine. It’ll just take time until she wakes, but we’ll need to monitor her and keep her warm.”

  Seeing the wounds marring Adelina’s legs roused fierce protectiveness in Kierion again, like a burning in his chest. Strange. He’d never noticed that when anyone else had been hurt. He shrugged. Actually, it wasn’t weird at all. He’d been trying to hide how he’d felt about Adelina ever since he’d met her. Her cute smile was part of the reason he’d agreed to go with her this morning. Maybe he shouldn’t have. Maybe she wouldn’t have gone then. Or she could’ve gone on her own. That could’ve ended much worse.

  Anyway, him liking her could never lead anywhere. She was way too young. Kierion sighed.

  Marlies treated and bound Adelina’s legs. “Now, let’s look at you,” she said, fists on hips. “Into that bed.”

  “But I—”

  “Go on. No protesting. First, get that wet gear off.”

  His injuries were throbbing so badly, Marlies had to help Kierion strip off his shirt.

  “Those are some nasty gashes there. Tharuk claws by the looks of things. You’re lucky they weren’t limplocked.”

  “Limplock’s the stuff Lovina was poisoned with when she came to Dragons’ Hold, isn’t it?”

  Marlies nodded. “It paralyzes you slowly over days, starting with your limbs and working its way inward until your heart gives out. Terrible stuff. Luckily, we developed an antidote years ago. Although I need to make more because our supplies are low.” She gave a grim smile, rubbing healing salve on his ribs, the ache easing. Tilting her head, she looked at his throat. “How does it feel when you breathe?’

  “A bit rough.”

  “Hmm.” She rubbed salve into his throat around his neck. “Any better?”

  “Still feels odd when I breathe.”

  “The tissue must be swollen.” She held up a vial of green juice.

  “Piaua?”

  She nodded, rubbing it into his neck. His throat grew hot and the discomfort eased.

  “I’m going to have to use piaua juice on these gashes.” Marlies tipped a drop in one of the wounds 1777 had made.

  “Shards.” It stung, like wildfire racing through the wound. Before his eyes, the flesh knitted over. She worked on the next gouge. “A shame tharuks have claws,” Kierion joked lamely.

  Marlies didn’t laugh. “A shame they exist at all.”

  That’s right. Marlies had returned from Death Valley only two moons ago. It was doubtful she’d ever joke about tharuks.

  “These should keep you warm until I get you some more clothes. I’m not having you put sodden ones back on.” She covered Kierion’s naked torso with blankets. “Right, that’s better.”

  “Um. There’s one thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you mind not telling Lars that I was out fighting tharuks?” he whispered.

  “Kierion, I think—”

  “Please,” he wheedled, “I’ll find whatever herbs you need for limplock remedy.”

  Marlies shook her head, chuckling.

  “And please don’t mention I was with a wizard. Riders really should fight with mages. It’s much more efficient.”

  “I agree.” She nodded.

  “You do? We should do something about it,” Kierion said.

  “Can you keep an eye on Adelina while I help a patient back to his quarters? I’ll be back soon.”

  “Sure,” Kierion replied, but as Marlies turned her back, his eyes were already drifting shut.

  §

  Adelina opened her eyes. She had a pounding headache. Gods, where was she? In a bed. With rows of more beds along the walls—the infirmary. So, she’d made it back to Dragons’ Hold. The last thing she’d known, she’d been fighting that tharuk in a tree. Shards, her head hurt, especially at the back. She ran her fingers over her skull. There was a huge tender egg. No wonder her head throbbed.

  She flexed her leg. All good. Marlies must’ve healed her with piaua.

  Kierion was sleeping in the neighboring bed, breathing softly, looking peaceful without his usual mischievous grin. His blankets had slipped, revealing his wide shoulders and a broad chest that tapered to a narrow waist. Shards, she hadn’t realized he had so many muscles.

  “Hi, sleepyhead,” Kierion said softly.

  He’d woken. Her eyes flew to his and her face grew hot. Claws, she’d been caught gawking at him.

  “How are you feeling?” He threw his blankets back, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. A shaft of pale sunlight caught the fine blond hair on his tanned chest, making it glint. He was watching her, an odd expression on his face.

  Adelina slid her eyes away.

  His brow creased. “Hey, Adelina, are you all right?” He knelt by the side of her bed, his chest and shoulders even with her face.

  “Um, I’m fine.” Mouth dry, she swallowed.

  “You must be thirsty. Here, have this.” Kierion helped her to sit, and passed her a cup from her bedside table, those sharding muscles flexing right in front of her.

  “Um, thanks.” The cool water helped.

  He grabbed a clean shirt from the foot of his bed and tugged it on, then put on a clean jerkin.

  “Are you going already?”

  He settled in a chair by her bed, patting her hand. “No, Adelina, I’m not going anywhere until you’re well.” For once he wasn’t smiling.

  Rumble Weed

  “Flame it, Kierion.” Lars stomped over to the fire and turned to face him. “I called you a fool last time, but at least you showed promise. Now you’ve proved you’re nothing but a sharding fool. Please explain how Adelina got hurt so badly by tharuks?”

  Behind Lars, the fire crackled in the grate, devouring the kindling.

  “It was my idea, sir.” She’d been feeling unwell for a day now, so there was no way Kierion was going to lay the blame at Adelina’s feet. “I thought we could use a little combat practice.” Kierion was surprised the lies fell so glibly from his tongue, but the alternative was unthinkable. Adelina’s brother was missing. In the infirmary earlier that day, she’d told him that the council hadn’t done anything about it. Not retrieving one of their own masters? That rankled. He couldn’t land her in the dung. She was miserable enough already.

  “So, you endangered a fellow rider, a young one at that, and two dragons—just to have fun?”

  “It wasn’t really fun, sir.” Even though Marlies had healed them, Kierion’s ribs still ached.

  “No, fighting tharuks isn’t,” thundered Lars. “Why are you such an irresponsible whelp?” His boots stomped on stone, like a battle drum.

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  Flames leaped up, licking at a log. The wood issued a high-pitched squeak as the tortured air inside it tried to escape.

  “I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to stop being so impulsive. Think before you act.” Lars exhaled forcefully. “You missed kitchen duty as well.”

  “They hardly need me there, sir,” Kierion muttered.

  Lars shook his head. “You were given kitchen duty to remind you to think about the consequences of your actions. From now on, it’s your top priority. Organize kitchen duty before anything else. Got that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And Kierion, although you might be willing to risk your own neck, don’t ever risk your dragon or another rider again.”

  As if he’d ever risk Riona.

  Lars glared. “Have I made myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir, crystal clear.”

  “You’re dismissed,” Lars barked, eyes still fierce.

  Kierion left Lars’ cavern, the heavy wooden door thudding shut. Thank the Egg, Lars didn’t know he’d been with a mage. He’d put him on kitchen duty for the rest of his life.

  “Kierion, I have an idea,” melded Riona. “We’ll lay a trap to catch some tharuks, then I’ll fla
me them.” Riona showed him an image of her, bleeding out on the snow. When tharuks approached, she snarled, and flapped her wings helplessly, but when they got closer, she burned them.

  Shards, it was brilliant, although he’d have to find some fake blood and a waterskin to put it in. Hang on. What was he thinking? He’d just promised Lars he wouldn’t risk his dragon. “No, Riona. You heard Lars. I’m not to put you in danger.”

  “You? Put me in danger? Who do you think you are? It’s my decision. Nothing to do with you or Lars. Besides, we’re meeting your mage friend, and he’s a fair shot with a fireball.”

  Kierion laughed. “Well, Lars did tell me to organize kitchen duty. He never said I have to do it myself.”

  Riona chuckled. “Before dawn again?”

  “Too right,” Kierion replied. “That’s when Fenni agreed to meet us.”

  §

  “Quick, they’ll be here any minute.” Leah squeezed into the cupboard beside Mara, wrinkling her nose. “Oh, this is tight. Here, let’s move these pails.” She nested the wooden pails inside one another, shoving them against the back wall.

  Mara moved a soggy mop to one side. “Turn those pails upside down and I’ll sit on them.”

  Mara got the comfortable seat, while Leah sat on the cold stone, hugging her knees.

  “Hurry, they’re coming,” hissed Mara. She grabbed the door, pulling it shut, nearly slamming her fingers. A tiny slit of light came through a crack in the door, giving them a narrow view of the cavern.

  Girls laughed as they entered the dorm. “Of course he knows you like him. You turned as red as a blood-beet when he looked at you,” one said.

  “I couldn’t help it. He’s just so … I don’t know.”

  Beds creaked as girls sat down. The cavern door thudded shut.

  “Right, girls. You all know why we’re here.” Snake-tongue.

  Mara nudged Leah. Leah automatically put her finger to her lips. If they were caught, they’d be beaten and made social outcasts, but they had to find out what Snake-tongue was planning.

  “Enough gossip. It’s time for action,” said Snake-tongue. “We need someone from Anakisha’s bloodline to fulfill the prophecy. Her heir should be Queen’s Rider, ruling at Dragons’ Hold alongside Queen Zaarusha. Are you all in?”

  A drip from the mop hit Leah’s hair, making her flinch. Shards, she had to stay still and not make a sound. The stone was chilling her backside, but it was too late to move now. If she bumped something, Snake-tongue would hear.

  Mara squeezed her hand in the dark, and Leah squeezed back.

  A timid voice spoke up, answering Snake-tongue. “W-what sort of action?”

  Snake-tongue’s voice was smooth, almost friendly. “Anyone else with questions?”

  A shiver ran down Leah’s neck, like fingertips walking across a grave, as two more girls expressed their concerns.

  “Thank you for asking,” Snake-tongue said in her oiliest tone. “Are you scared of hurting someone?”

  “Y-yes, the thought m-makes me nauseous,” one of them said.

  Fingers snapped, and Snake-tongue’s voice took on a hard edge. “I have the prefect cure for nausea. Bring her here.”

  The sounds of a scuffle ensued. The girl’s muffled protests were cut off with the smack of an open hand meeting flesh.

  Leah bit her lip. This was worse than she’d thought. Adelina had warned them not to get involved, only to gather information and not give themselves away. She pressed her nails into her palms, fighting the urge to burst out of the cupboard and scream, “Stop.”

  “Pass me the rumble weed tonic,” Snake-tongue barked.

  The girl gagged and spluttered as she was forced to drink the vile stuff.

  “That should fix her.” Snake-tongue laughed. “Now, get a pail before she vomits all over the floor.”

  Boots stomped across the stone toward the cupboard. Leah’s heart froze. In the dark, Mara clutched her arm, making her start. The cupboard handle squeaked.

  Leah grabbed Mara’s hand and tensed, ready to run. The door opened a finger’s breadth.

  “Don’t bother,” Nadira—one of Sofia’s closest friends—called. “I have a pail here.”

  The footfalls receded. Leah exhaled in relief. Soon, retching echoed around the cavern.

  Leah peeped through the crack.

  Nadira was standing over a young girl who was vomiting, her face gray and beaded with sweat. The girl clutched her belly, moaning. She vomited again and again, until she was dry retching. The acrid stench of stomach bile wafted through the air. Next to Leah, Mara heaved.

  Shards, hopefully Mara could control herself. Fumbling in the dark, Leah clapped a hand over her friend’s mouth and guided Mara’s hand to her nose, so she could pinch it.

  “By the Egg, that stinks,” Snake-tongue said, cleaning her fingernails with her dagger. “The poor girl must’ve eaten something that disagreed with her.” Striding to the girl, she held the dagger to her throat. “You’ll be more careful of what you eat now, won’t you?”

  Pale, the girl nodded, eyes flitting to two other girls cowering in a corner.

  “Take her to the infirmary. If any of you rat me out, there’ll be worse,” Snake-tongue threatened, waving her dagger.

  One of Nadira and Sofia’s friends marched the girl out.

  “Meeting dismissed,” Snake-tongue snapped. “Nadira, a moment.”

  The other girls left.

  “That went well, Sofia. What are you planning next?” Nadira asked.

  Snake-tongue’s voice was filled with loathing. “I’m going straight for the Queen’s Rider.”

  §

  The spymaster cocked his head, frowning. Tonio had always had something against Roberto, so Adelina had been worried about coming to him with her concerns, but right now, he was listening. Adelina fiddled with a pebble in her pocket, turning it over and over.

  “So, you’re telling me this has gone on for some time?” Tonio said, his eyes flitting from her to Leah and Mara. “That Sofia has been slandering the Queen’s Rider, and has abused a younger girl?”

  “Yes,” said Leah, “we heard it all, hidden in a cupboard.”

  He arched a slim eyebrow. “And may I ask why you were hiding in a cupboard?”

  “To hear her plans,” Adelina answered for them.

  “Aha, very resourceful, but also dangerous if you were found. What would your strategy have been then?”

  Next to Adelina, Leah gulped. “To run.”

  He nodded. “I train my dragon corps spies in a similar manner: to be discreet, but to flee should the situation get dangerous.”

  Leah beamed. Mara sat up straighter.

  Good. Adelina was glad the girls were being recognized for their work.

  Tonio continued. “I don’t mind you keeping your ears open and reporting any more gossip or violence directly to me, however, I do not, under any circumstances, want you to play at being spies. Observe as you go about your daily duties. No more hiding in cupboards. I don’t want you to get hurt. Is that clear?”

  Leah and Mara nodded.

  “You may also tell Adelina what you’ve heard, but only after you report to me,” Tonio said. “Now, go about your day. Well done, girls.”

  Leah and Mara went to the door, waiting for Adelina.

  “I’ll be a moment,” she said. “Please tell Master Jerrick I’ll be late for archery.”

  “Will do,” Mara called.

  Alone with the spymaster, Adelina’s palms grew damp. She rubbed them on her breeches.

  Tonio’s face was grave. “Be careful, Adelina, it’s a dangerous game you’re playing.”

  Well, that was unexpected. “What game?”

  “Playing spymaster with these young girls. If something happens to them, you’ll never get it off your conscience.” Lines deepened in his face.

  Familiarity knifed through Adelina’s belly. They were grief lines. He was speaking from experience. Someone he loved had been hurt or died while spying for
him.

  “Now, what did you want to talk to me about?” His manner suddenly became brusque, as if she was a fly he wanted to brush off. This was the Tonio she knew.

  Adelina straightened her spine. She couldn’t back down now. This was the real reason she’d come. “Master Tonio, I know my brother is captive in Death Valley. What is the council doing about it?”

  “Nothing,” Tonio snapped, stalking to the door and opening it. He gestured for her to leave.

  “Nothing?” She’d expected excuses, reasons, not just nothing. A dark pit yawned in her belly—ready to swallow her.

  “What I meant was nothing at present,” he said smoothly. “We have plans to rescue your brother straight after race day.”

  Adelina nodded. “Thank you.” She didn’t believe a word Tonio had just said. She’d bet a dragon’s weight in gold that the spymaster would change his plans.

  Archery practice could wait. It was time to visit Erob.

  Riona’s Trap

  It was still dark when Kierion swung into Riona’s saddle with a bladder of blood-beet dye and his quiver on his back, covered by Fenni’s cloak. Once his feet were in the stirrups, he tucked the invisibility cloak tightly around him. It hung right over his boots. Brilliant—if anyone saw Riona, they’d think she was hunting. It wasn’t unusual to see dragons flying solo. He pulled the cloak’s hood down over his face.

  Riona’s feet crunched on the snow as she headed to the front of the ledge and took off. Clouds scudded over the moon, blanketing the basin in darkness. The muted flapping of her wings was the only sound. No one else was about. He’d planned this trip well, popping by the infirmary last night to collect the wizard cloak still tucked beneath Adelina’s bed.

  A chill breeze ruffled his cloak. By the Egg, it was cold, but soon enough it would be dawn and he’d be in Spanglewood Forest.

  They were at the edge of Dragon’s Teeth when a lone blue guard flew toward them. Heart pounding, Kierion yanked the hood lower and hunched over Riona’s back. “Who is it?” He asked Riona, unable to see past the hood.