Dragon Rift: Riders of Fire, Book Three - A Dragons’ Realm Novel

by Eileen Mueller

  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 moo
n, 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.

  “Septimor and Seppi. Stay still.”

  Kierion held his breath, in case he let out a cloud of fog in the cool air. Septimor’s wingbeats sounded dangerously close. Could the blue dragon sense his heart thudding against his ribs? He willed himself to stay calm, his grip growing sweaty.

  “They’re gone,” Riona melded. “Septimor wanted to know why I was out at night. I told him I’d heard there were fat bucks over the ridge and fancied a snack.”

  “What were they doing out this early?”

  “They went for a flight after the late patrol ended. Septimor had also heard about the bucks and gone to hunt.”

  “With Seppi?”

  “Seppi’s been riding for years. It doesn’t bother him to witness his dragon killing or eating. By the way, you know this means I’ll have to catch a buck on the way home, or they’ll wonder why I’ll need to go hunting again so soon.” Riona’s belly rumbled.

  Life was simpler as a dragon. Eating, killing tharuks, flying. Had Seppi really been fooled? Or would he mention Riona when he gave his patrol report? Kierion shrugged and threw back his hood.

  Riona dived down the far side of Dragon’s Teeth and swooped over the forest. Exhilaration rushed through Kierion. He felt like yelling at the top of his voice—but he wasn’t that foolhardy. Anyone could be hidden in the dark sky. They headed toward Spanglewood Forest.

  Fingers of light crept across the treetops, casting the forest in predawn gray. Moments later, a golden glow filtered across the land, setting the snow alight. Dragons’ Realm was breathtaking. As a dragon rider, he was tasked to protect it. He’d heard stories of entire villages being killed or enslaved when tharuks had first come through the world gate. Maybe he and Fenni could develop new methods for fighting the beasts and get riders and mages to fight together. There had to be a better way to save his people.

  Riona swooped down to the clearing where they’d arranged to meet Fenni.

  His friend greeted him. “Good morning, Kierion. Ready for a little wizard flame?”

  “I’m always ready. Seen any tharuks lately?”

  Fenni’s brow wrinkled. “A few. Could we do a sweep of the forest? I haven’t seen Master Giddi for two days since he stalked off.”

  That was strange. “Why?”

  “He won a wizard duel, but was angry at Master Starrus, the head of the Wizard Council, because Starrus’ mage flame got out of control.”

  “Makes sense.” Mage flame gone wild would be problematic. “I’ve been thinking about how we can fight best together. Climb up behind me and we’ll try a few things out.”

  An hour later, they were at the clearing Riona had seen the last time they were here. “Tharuks are close by,” Riona said. “We’ll need to be quick.” She ripped a branch off a tree and landed in the snow.

  Kierion pulled the waterskin off his back and tucked it in the skin fold between Riona’s hind leg and her belly. He forced the branch into the waterskin, piecing it. Riona squeezed the branch between her thigh and belly to hold it in place. Blood-beet juice flowed down her stomach and leg onto the snow.

  “That doesn’t hurt, does it?” Kierion asked.

  “Not a bit.”

  “Almost looks real, like she’s impaled herself,” Fenni said.

  “Hopefully real enough to fool those brutes,” Kierion replied. “Quick, let’s get into the trees.”

  They climbed up strongwoods at the edge of the clearing, Fenni near Riona’s tail, and Kierion closer to her head. Kierion nocked an arrow. A tiny shower of sparks flitted from Fenni’s tree. “Riona, we’re ready.”

  The purple dragon swished her tail in the snow, obliterating their tracks, and churned up more snow with her forelegs. She half-unfurled a wing, as if it was damaged.

  “Great,” said Kierion. “Looks like you’ve been struggling.”

  Riona bellowed.

  It sounded like she was in pain—she was a better actor than he’d expected. “Convincing, keep it up.”

  She bellowed again and thrashed in the snow, careful not to dislodge the branch still gripped between her leg and belly. “Be alert, I smell tharuk on the breeze,” she snarled in Kierion’s mind. Her visceral pleasure shot through him, making his heart race.

  Gods, if she was hurt …

  A lone tharuk broke into the clearing, lifting its snout to the wind and sniffing.

  Oh shards, in his eagerness he’d forgotten to take freshweed. What a fool.

  “Don’t worry, you’re downwind. That pathetic beast doesn’t stand a chance.” Riona whimpered and flapped her half-extended wing pathetically.

  Behind the tharuk tracker, dark shapes moved among the trees. “Wait, Riona. There are more.”

  “Bring them on,” Riona rumbled between sad moans. “The more, the better.”

  The tracker advanced, still sniffing, getting closer to Riona with every pace. It was halfway across the clearing when the wind changed. The tracker spun, nostrils twitching.

  “If it scents us, our trap’s blown,” Kierion melded.

  “If you shoot early, we’ll scare off the others. I want to catch the lot, so hold tight.”

  As much as it galled Kierion, Riona was right.

  The tracker narrowed its eyes. “Who’s there?” it snarled.

  A tharuk grunt with darker fur entered the clearing behind it. “We wants dragon meat,” it bellowed. “Stop mucking around.”

  “I smell something,” the tracker snapped. “Quiet.”

  The wind changed back, and Kierion sighed in relief.

  “Trackers always smell something,” Dark Fur said. “I only smell you.”

  Another tharuk emerged from the trees. “I hungry too.”

  “Careful,” the tracker said, giving up sniffing. “Dragon still alive.”

  More beasts prowled into the clearing. Forming a line, they advanced on Riona. She cowered, whimpering. Shrinking in on herself, she let out the smallest burst of flame, as if her fire power was failing. She looked tiny, not like a ferocious fire-breathing dragon.

  The tharuks grew bolder. “Stinking scale heap. Got hurt, did you?” Dark Fur sneered. “Hurt more soon.”

  Six tharuk archers stole out of the strongwood trees, their green-tipped arrows aimed at Riona.

  Dragon gods and flames. Kierion’s mouth dried out. They had limplocked arrows. A few of those, and Riona would be dead. Lars’ words came back to him, “Don’t ever risk your dragon.” He was a sharding fool, all right, always thinking he knew best. “Riona, fly away. You can’t get hurt.”

  “I risk injury every time I battle tharuks.”

  “But they have limplock,” Kierion said.

  “Then we’ll have to kill the archers first.”

  “We could let the other tharuks get closer, so the archers are in range. But it’s too dangerous.”

  “Kierion, we’ve come this far, let’s go for it.”

  That sounded suspiciously like something he’d say.

  Riona gave a pathetic snarl. A puff of smoke issued from her nostrils.

  “Flame’s broken,” yelled Dark Fur, waving the troop forward. “Attack.”

  Tharuks rushed Riona.

  Before the first archer could shoot, a green fire bolt sizzled through the air, hitting a furry chest and exploding. Dropping its bow, the tharuk archer writhed in the snow.

  The other archers faltered until Dark Fur roared again, “Attack. Dragon meat.”

  Snar
ling, tharuks ran at Riona, claws extended.

  As one, the tharuk archers raised their bows, but Kierion fired first. His arrow sailed through the air, hitting an archer in the eye. The beast howled, grasping its face. Kierion’s next arrow hit another tharuk’s arm. It dropped its bow. Fenni’s fireball struck a fourth archer in the head, and it ran off, fur in flames.

  The remaining two archers loosed their arrows at Riona, and re-nocked their bows.

  “Riona, look out. Incoming arrows.”

  A plume of mage flame shot past Riona and one arrow combusted. The second arrow hit a tharuk’s back.

  “Thank the Egg,” Kierion yelled aloud, then fired again.

  Riona swatted two tharuks with her tail, sending them crashing into tree trunks. She opened her jaws and blasted a swathe of fire at three more monsters. The stench of burned flesh and scorched hair filled the clearing. Riona howled, this time for real, as tharuks swarmed onto her back, raking her hide with their vicious claws.

  Kierion bellowed, unheard above the racket, and nocked an arrow. But he couldn’t shoot. The risk of hitting Riona was too high. So, he focused on the remaining archers. Both had crept around the sides of the clearing toward him and Fenni. Oh shards, one was aiming right at him. He fired, but his arrow went wide. The beast ran toward him, kneeling to get a better shot. Kierion scrambled further up the tree to where the foliage was denser. A tharuk arrow thwacked into a branch near his boot. Swinging onto a higher branch, he yanked his legs up and readied his bow. His hand itched for his sword, but it’d be useless up here. He fired at the archer. It ducked. His arrow whistled over its head.

  Fenni’s fireballs were zipping around the clearing, targeting tharuks, but none near Riona—it was too dangerous. One sailed through the air, incinerating the archer.

  Riona shook herself like a dog. The tharuks swarming over her went flying, except Dark Fur, who clung like a burr to one of her spinal ridges. She blasted more monsters with fire. “That stubborn tharuk is worse than the most annoying tic,” she said, leaping into the air. Riona tilted her body, trying to shake Dark Fur off. Feet swinging, the tenacious tharuk hung on. Pain ripped through her spinal ridge, ricocheting through Kierion’s mind, as the tharuk twisted, gouging her with its claws.