“Actually, it might be. Let me see. Do you have any rope?”
“Yes, in Zaarusha’s saddlebags.” She melded, “Zaarusha?”
“On my way. How can I help?”
Ezaara rushed out to the den as Zaarusha landed.
A worried Erob butted her with his snout. “Is Roberto all right?”
Ezaara shared her memory of Roberto’s attack with both of them as she fished in Zaarusha’s saddlebags for rope. When she went back inside, Ma was examining Roberto’s chest and arms.
“You’ve done a good job of healing him, Ezaara. Did you see any unusual bumps or swelling? Anything that wouldn’t heal properly?”
“Yes, under his right shoulder blade.” She turned him over and lifted his shirt. “Here.” The angry red bump glared at them.
“Zens may have implanted a crystal inside Roberto that controls his thoughts and actions. Sofia had one, too. Let’s tie him down.”
Ezaara tied Roberto’s wrists to the bed, while Ma tied his legs. So cruel. He’d only just escaped shackles and now she was the one tying him. The irony made the icy shards of her heart twist deeper into her chest.
Ma lit a new torch so they could see, then sliced along the apex of the lump in his flesh. Ezaara staunched the blood seeping over his back. Inside the wound, something yellow glinted. Ma squeezed the edges of the wound. Red and yellow rivulets ran out of the wound, leaving trails over his back. Ma edged the crystal out of Roberto’s body.
“Help me,” she grunted.
Ezaara applied pressure to the sides of his wound. A blood-smeared yellow stone—as long as Ezaara’s finger and twice as thick—slithered out onto Roberto’s back.
Roberto’s body tensed, then went limp.
“This stone is how Zens controls people?”
Ma nodded. “Fleur did the same to Sofia. We found that Unocco—the dragon that the traitor Bruno used to ride—had a crystal embedded under his wing.” Bitterness flashed across Ma’s face. “It’s strange, because Fleur only used swayweed with Ajeuria, yet they implanted Sofia and Unocco. I can’t figure out why.”
Why had Ma looked so bitter? Fleur and Bruno had been from Montanara, and Ma had grown up there. On a hunch, Ezaara asked, “Did you know Bruno?”
Ma gave her an odd look. “I just found out yesterday that Master Bruno was the same man who had run the Nightshader crew in Montanara—a terrible street gang who stole from littlings and beat people up. I’m glad he’s been banished. Now take that crystal to Zaarusha so she can destroy it.”
The crystal emanated an angry hum, like a swarm of bees, against her fingertips. Ezaara rushed outside.
“Drop it,” commanded Zaarusha. She blasted the stone with dragon flame until it was a bubbling mass, giving off a nasty stink. “Don’t breathe in the fumes,” Zaarusha warned. “Who knows what they’ll do.”
Erob sidestepped the bubbling mess, lowering his head to gaze at Ezaara with golden eyes. Ezaara rubbed his eye ridge. “What is it?”
“Zens nearly broke Roberto,” Erob said, the wave of his sorrow socking Ezaara’s stomach. “If Roberto had succeeded in killing you, he would’ve been filled with self-loathing. We would’ve lost our Queen’s Rider and one of our most valuable masters.”
Ezaara nodded, swallowing. They’d been lucky.
Prophecy
Roberto woke face down in bed, his back on fire. The swirling dark mist that had teased the edges of his mind was gone. So were the whispering voices, thank the Egg. His head was clear for the first time since leaving Death Valley. He stretched and winced. His right shoulder blade burned with pain.
He rolled onto his left side.
Ezaara was asleep in an armchair by the bed. A pale shaft of sunlight filtered through a crack in a stone shutter, falling across her cheek, highlighting the freckles on her nose. He’d first seen them when she’d flown her first loop on Zaarusha—the day he’d sworn to be her protector.
Strange, he hadn’t noticed her freckles in all these moons. He lay there, watching her breathe. He was so lucky.
Shards. Lucky she was alive. Memories of him holding a knife to her throat rushed through his head. Shame and remorse flooded him. He wasn’t her protector—he’d been a heartbeat away from murdering her. He was a worthless piece of shrot. His stomach tied itself in painful knots. Zens had been right. He’d made him his beast, no better than a stinking tharuk. He’d nearly killed the woman he loved—the Queen’s Rider, for the dragons gods’ sake.
Ezaara opened her eyes.
Skewered by his memories, Roberto froze, a dark pit gaping inside him.
He opened his mouth. No words came out. No excuse for making her bleed.
Her green eyes regarded him.
He saw the blade, him holding it. Lunging, slamming her against the wall. And using that sharding knife. Always the knife—again and again—glinting red with the promise of death. Her death, the woman he loved. The memory burned through his mind, worse than Zens’ torture.
Ezaara slipped into his mind. “Show me.”
He tried to hide the memories, the shame, but she wrapped her warm presence around his thoughts, and watched with him, her love shining through the darkness, like a beacon fire welcoming him home.
Tears wet on his cheeks, he stared at her unmoving.
Her eyes bright with tears, she whispered, “Welcome home. I’ve missed you.”
§
When she’d left Death Valley, Roberto had been a broken man, weeping on the stone floor. Now, he was home, but still broken, weeping beside her. His ebony eyes were filled with the horror of what he’d done. Anguish painted his features. His chest heaved with sobs.
As he’d been sleeping, Ezaara had wondered how she could ever trust him.
And here was her answer.
This is what Zens had wanted. To destroy the man she loved.
And so Ezaara reached down within herself, dragging up courage she didn’t know she had, and stroked his cheek. “Roberto, do you remember what you promised me?”
He stopped sobbing, eyes wide. Tentatively, he reached up and cupped her hand where it lay against his face. His touch was warm, gentle. “I remember,” he whispered, soft as a moth’s wing, husky with love and grief.
This was the Roberto she loved. The man who’d spent all night carving a cane for her when she’d first arrived here. The man who’d helped hone her skills, offered his life to protect her. Bled for her.
He was not the man who’d held a knife at her throat. No—that was Zens.
And so she said what she’d been wanting to say ever since he’d left. What she’d been saving up for when he returned. And what she wanted with all her heart.
“Are you ready to ask my parents?” She leaned in, brushing her lips across his.
He nodded and kissed her back, his lips as welcoming as a soft spring rain.
§
Roberto ran a hand through his hair, then tugged his jerkin. He paced outside the door, then scratched his chin. This was stupid. He’d faced the horrors of Death Valley, but couldn’t face Ezaara’s parents. He knocked on the door, then immediately wished he hadn’t.
Ezaara’s mother knew what he’d done. Would she forgive him? Or banish him like a rogue dragon?
Hans opened the door. “Come in, Roberto.”
He wiped his palm on his breeches and shook Hans’ hand. “Morning.”
Hans ushered him inside. The entrance tunnel swallowed him and the door thudded shut. Hans showed him into the family’s living area.
Marlies looked up. “Morning, Roberto, how are you feeling?”
“Fine, um, thanks.” How did you thank someone for saving you from murdering their daughter? He was mired in dragon dung.
“Hey, Roberto, good to see you on your feet.” Tomaaz gave him a bear hug.
Roberto hadn’t expected that. He hugged him back. “Thanks for getting Erob home.”
Tomaaz shook his head, green eyes blazing—so similar to his twin sister. “I’m sorry I couldn’t ge
t you out.”
Roberto shrugged, then cleared his throat.
Tomaaz winked. “Come on, Taliesin, let’s go and look at Lovina’s latest painting.”
“Sure,” the slave boy grinned, trailing Tomaaz out the door.
“So, he’s talking now?”
Hans chuckled. “And so are you. Please sit down, Roberto.” He gestured to a sofa.
Roberto sat. He may as well get straight to it. “I, ah, would like permission to, um, be hand-fasted to your daughter, Ezaara.”
“I assume you’ve asked her if she’s keen?” Hans asked, emerald eyes gauging him.
He nodded.
Marlies leaned forward. “Roberto, I gave Ezaara my blessing to go to Death Valley and find you.”
He sucked in his breath. “You did? Why?”
She counted her reasons off on her fingers. “Firstly, I wanted to prevent your needless death. Secondly, she loves you, so why would I hold her back? Thirdly, Tonio had made it clear the council weren’t going to rescue you because he had a vendetta against Amato. That wasn’t fair. No one should pay with their life for their parents’ mistakes.”
It always came back to his father. Every foul rotten thing came down to his father. No. His father had been turned by Zens, maybe even with one of those yellow crystals.
Zens was the one to blame for every disaster in his life.
“Son,” said Hans, grasping his hand across the low table. “As long as the council is happy with you being hand-fasted to the Queen’s Rider, we welcome you and Adelina to our family.”
A family? Roberto swallowed. It had been so long.
§
That afternoon, Tonio cornered Ezaara in the tunnels. “My Queen’s Rider, Marlies told me about the crystal. I suspected Roberto may have been turned.”
Anger burned in Ezaara’s belly. “We’ve extracted the crystal, and he’s in perfect control of himself.” She glared at Tonio. “Don’t ever accuse him of being a traitor again. Having his gut slit in the Robandi desert and being held in Death Valley was punishment enough for his father’s crimes.”
“Roberto doesn’t need to be punished for his father’s crimes. Zens is to blame. I see that now.” Tonio shook his head. “I’ve been talking to Master Giddi, your parents and Kierion. We must work with mages to wipe Zens and his armies out.”
Gods, where had that come from?
Tonio grasped her hand, shaking it. “And I’ve heard the news, Ezaara. Congratulations. I’m glad for you both.”
Ezaara stood open-mouthed as he walked away.
Dire News
Not all of the masters were gathered at this private meeting, only those who knew what was going on: Ezaara, Lars, Tonio, Marlies and Hans. And, of course, Roberto had to be present—there was no one to accuse without him. Erob, Zaarusha and Antonika were sitting near the back wall—the only dragons allowed.
Roberto stretched his legs under the table, circling his ankles. “Ah, Erob, it’s good to move without a shackle dragging on my leg.”
“Next time chose a lighter piece of jewelry, perhaps an earring?” Erob teased.
Lars rapped his gavel. “Today we have a few issues to address: Sofia’s punishment; Master Roberto loving Ezaara, his trainee, before she was qualified; the nature of these yellow crystals; and Zens’ new creatures. First, we will deal with Sofia, then Roberto.”
A blue guard opened the door and led Sofia in. Roberto was shocked at her appearance. She’d lost weight and her eyes had the look of a creature being hunted. Is that what those crystals did to people? His gut roiled. Shards, he’d been lucky.
Sofia slumped into a chair, staring at the floor.
Lars read out the charges against her. “Inciting rebellion against the rightful Queen’s Rider. Attacking the Queen’s Rider. Abusing girls at Dragons’ Hold. Subverting public opinion. Sedition against Dragons’ Realm.”
Sofia looked up, shame smeared across her face.
She’d spurned the Queen’s Rider and made Ezaara’s life difficult. She needed to be cast out from Dragons’ Hold.
“These crimes were, in large, against me,” Ezaara said. “May I conduct the proceedings?” She got up, her boots creating soft echoes as she moved around the granite table to face Sofia.
“What are you doing?” Roberto mind-melded.
“Trust me.”
“Sofia.” Ezaara waited until Sofia met her gaze before she continued. “I forgive you. You were under Zens’ influence. I’m guessing you’d do anything to right this wrong.”
Sofia nodded. “I feel awful. Horrible black shadows kept whispering at me, goading me to be mean and making me violent. Now they’re gone, I feel so rotten about what I’ve done.”
Anger burned, slow and deep in Roberto’s belly. “How could you forgive her? They said she tried to kill you.”
“Roberto.” Only one word, full of love and kindness.
Roberto’s chest grew tight. He’d done the same. With that knife at her throat.
Lars’ voice was low. “Ezaara, this is not in your hands.”
“I know, it’s Zaarusha’s decision.”
She’d put Lars right in his place. It was Ezaara and Zaarusha who led the council now.
The queen nudged Lars with her snout. His expression softened as he listened to her, a hand on her head. “Sofia, Zaarusha is giving you a chance.”
Sofia’s eyes grew round. “Anything. I’ll do it. Please.”
“She’s ordering you to muck out dragonet dens for a month.”
Roberto melded with Ezaara. “Did you put Zaarusha up to that?”
Ezaara clasped Sofia’s hand. “I never had a chance to apologize for injuring you. It was an accident, but even so, I’ve regretted it ever since.”
Sofia stood and hugged Ezaara, sobbing. “Th-thank you.”
“It’s going to be all right,” Ezaara murmured.
A blue guard entered with Alban swaggering in behind him, Nadira on his heels. Jaw clenched, Alban stared at Sofia with a face hewn of granite. “You gave us sway weed. Me and Banikan. How could you?”
“And you had me doing your dirty work with the girls,” snarled Nadira. “I believed in you, trusted you, and you made me nasty.” She looked as if she was about to spit on Sofia. Even without sway weed.
“I’ve forgiven her and you,” Ezaara said quietly, stepping up next to Sofia. “And I’m the one she tried to burn and knife. This just shows us how powerful Zens is. He not only bends minds, he infiltrates Dragons’ Hold, trying to ruin friendships and create hate between us. We’ll never succeed if we let his tools of war drive us apart.”
Roberto wasn’t sure what Alban was expecting, but it wasn’t that.
Alban blustered for a moment, then nodded. “Very well.” He turned for the door.
“Alban,” Ezaara called, “Sofia’s going to need some help mucking out the dragonet dens. Might be a good way to get to know one another on new terms.”
He nodded tersely and left. Nadira hung back, “You know, Ezaara, I think you’re right.” She slipped an arm through Sofia’s elbow and wandered outside with her.
“All’s well that ends well,” said Lars. “And now, Master Roberto.” He turned to him. “We understand you kissed Ezaara while she was still your trainee. Ever since the world gate was shut, loving your trainee has been a grievous offense, punishable by banishment.”
All eyes turned to him. Funny, having everyone acknowledge he loved Ezaara. He could lose everything, but he wouldn’t live a lie. “I loved her from the moment I tested her imprinting bond.”
“I thought you were pretty awful back then.” Ezaara kept her face deadpan. “Perhaps we shouldn’t tell them everything.”
“I won’t hide our love anymore.”
Tonio nodded to himself. “You’ve been mind-melding with Ezaara for moons, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” “And I am right now—and there’s nothing he can do about it.”
Ezaara snorted, putting her hand over her mouth to pretend
she was stifling a cough.
Lars cut in. “Yet you say the first time you kissed her was in the orchard, when Antonika flew over and saw you?”
“After Fleur, Bruno and Simeon’s banishment,” Tonio added.
“Yes,” Roberto said. This was ridiculous. He’d kissed Ezaara, but the masters’ crimes were worse. “I’d been wrongly banished by you, captured in the Robandi desert, had my gut slit and came home to save Zaarusha from Ajeuria’s attack. So, yes, after all that, I did kiss my trainee, the woman I love, who’d saved me from desert assassins.” And had saved him from himself. He hadn’t wanted to return at all, but she’d convinced him.
“Our apologies for banishing you unfairly,” Lars said. “I’m sorry.”
“Apologies accepted,” Roberto said tersely. “Are you going to repeat the same mistake now?”
“It’s not your position to question council procedure,” Lars blustered.
“It is when that procedure nearly kills me, isolates me from the woman I love and stops me doing my duty to the queen.”
“Tread carefully, Roberto,” Ezaara pleaded.
“They need us.” Gods, he hoped he was right. He couldn’t really run away with the Queen’s Rider if they did attempt to banish him. Dragons’ Realm needed Ezaara and Zaarusha just as much as he did.
Lars gestured to Ezaara. “Apart from that kiss, is it true that you weren’t physically involved throughout your training?”
“They could just ask me,” said Erob, scratching the stone with his talons. “I knew what you were up to.”
“Naturally, I kissed him goodbye before he went to Death Valley.” Ezaara arched an eyebrow, looking bemused. “But apart from that, Master Lars, Roberto wouldn’t kiss me, despite me once begging him.”
A ripple of laughter ran around the cavern. “Hardly grounds for banishment,” commented Hans dryly.
Lars turned to Ezaara’s parents. “You two have been mind-melding for years. How probable is it that they’ve loved each other, but only kissed once or twice?”
Lars wasn’t going to let this drop, was he?
Riders of Fire Box Set Page 93
