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Zaarusha landed in the clearing below her cavern, the snow creaking with the weight of hundreds of dragons as they jostled to make space for more to land. Harnesses snapped against hides. Riders called out, wishing each other luck. More dragons were perched on outcrops above. Others dotted the ridge line. A crowd of onlookers stamped to keep warm, while two blue guards melted a line in the snow with their fiery breath.
Butterflies skittered through Ezaara’s belly—actually, it was more like a murder of crows flapping. Lars and Tonio had better keep Zaarusha safe. If either of them were hurt, they couldn’t rescue Roberto.
“Stop worrying. Antonika tells me it’s all under control. Besides, I’m large and fierce, you know.” Zaarusha snorted a tiny gust of flame.
Several dragons sidestepped.
“Zaarusha, this is your life we’re talking about.”
“Then let’s live it, now, and show these riders why you’re Queen’s Rider and I’m the queen. If anyone harms us, I’ll deal with them. The other dragons will back us up.”
A horn blew. Lars, on Singlar’s back, held his hand high for attention. When everyone had quietened, he addressed them. “Welcome. Today’s dragon races are held in honor of our new and honored Queen’s Rider, Ezaara.” He inclined his head toward Ezaara. “After nearly three moons with us, she has proven herself many times over, even saving Queen Zaarusha’s life. We are indebted to her and pledge to serve her. Every Queen’s Rider in training must demonstrate their ability in the dragon races—both in stunts and speed racing.”
People cheered. Lars held up his hand, cutting them off. “A matter of grave concern has come before the council. We are aware of rumormongers, setting themselves against Ezaara and Queen Zaarusha, quoting unfulfilled prophecy. But we warn you: prophecies often seem impossible until fulfilled. We advise you to be patient, and trust our Queen’s Rider. Be warned: any dissension will be punished with imprisonment in the cage.”
Ripples of concern radiated through the crowd. Zaarusha tensed.
“The cage?”
Zaarusha shot Ezaara an image of a dingy, cramped dungeon, next to a larger cell with strong chains for a dragon.
“We’ll start with stunts. A well-performed stunt tests the courage of the rider and the bond with their dragon. Stunts are not compulsory due to their danger, however, any rider who’d like to display their skills is welcome. Ezaara will go last,” Lars announced. “After stunts are over, all new riders, trainees and masters must meet here for speed racing. We welcome anyone who wishes to race.”
“Great,” said Ezaara sarcastically. “Throwing the race open to anyone is a sure way to protect you.”
“Antonika says anything other than tradition would raise suspicion. I agree. There’s less chance of me being hurt with so many dragons around.”
Or more chance of being attacked.
Zaarusha roared and tensed her haunches, leaping into the air.
Wings flapped around them, sounding like Ma’s bedsheets flapping on the washing line back in Lush Valley—only hundreds of them. Dragons grunted and riders whooped as they flew up to perch on the mountainside. Zaarusha and a few other dragons landed on an enormous plateau—the imprinting grounds. There was still a sizable crowd in the clearing below, some on dragons, but many on foot.
“You saved me here,” Zaarusha melded, sending a wave of warmth.
“Shards, that was awful.” Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to do any saving today. Prickles of doubt ran down Ezaara’s neck.
“Toni’s going to ride our flank and Lars will ride our tail during the race, so we should be fine,” Zaarusha said. “Oh, and Maazini has just let me know that your parents, Tomaaz and Kierion will be nearby as well. Everyone’s been briefed.”
Ezaara blew her breath out as Alyssa on Lysika, and Lars on Singlar, arrived. There were only four other trainees—Adelina, Kierion and Sofia’s friends, Alban and Nadira. She sighed. If only she’d never injured Sofia.
“It was an accident,” Zaarusha retorted. “If Ajeuria hadn’t launched a mental attack on you, none of that would’ve happened. I apologize for my daughter’s actions.”
“We’ll have Alban first. Show us what you’ve learned.” Alyssa, master of flight, blew a horn.
Alban sneered at Ezaara as Banikan, his majestic dragon, stalked through the snow to the front of the ledge, green scales flashing in the sunlight. Banikan’s wings rustled, breaking the silence as they shot up into the stark blue sky. Alban let out a whoop, then Banikan plunged, rolling his body around in a tight corkscrew, his wings pinned against his sides—a blur of green against the snowy backdrop of Dragon’s Teeth.
Ezaara held her breath. “Dragon’s claws. That’s fast.”
“It’s not difficult, but impressive,” came Zaarusha’s offhand reply. “Not many have attempted it since a dragon lost control five years ago. He and his rider plunged to their deaths in the lake.”
“It’s that dangerous?”
“Only if the dragon loses its sense of direction. The key is to stop before your rider gets disoriented and confuses you. I bet we could do it.”
With a roar, Banikan pulled out of his plunge and flipped his wings upward, rising into the air above the spectators. People cheered and dragons rumbled. Alban waved and stood on his saddle as Banikan circled past the assembled spectators.
“Banikan’s worried that Alban’s too dizzy.” Zaarusha’s urgent cry cut through Ezaara’s thoughts. “Liesar, quick.” Zaarusha leapt off the ledge, winging toward him.
Alban tottered upon the saddle, his arms flailing. He fell, plunging toward the trees.
Oh shards, they were too late.
In a flash of silver, Liesar was below Alban. She thwacked him with her tail, bouncing him in the air, and then caught him. He lay slumped across her saddle, his legs hanging down one side, arms barely clinging on. “I’m taking him to the infirmary,” Liesar melded with Ezaara and Zaarusha, and sped off.
Master Alyssa said to the assembled trainees, “Please don’t hurt yourselves by trying to prove something. We want to assess your abilities, not injure you. Is that clear?”
Somber-faced, the trainees nodded.
“Who’s next?”
Nadira and Diran prowled to the ledge’s edge, and flew toward the mountainside where Zaarusha and Ezaara had performed their loop.
“Shards, they’re not going to try a loop, are they?”
“I warned him not to, but Diran won’t listen.”
A bronze blur whipped below Nadira and Diran—Handel was monitoring them.
Silence blanketed the basin as Diran started his vertical climb, then looped upside down. Nadira’s arms slipped out of her holds. Arms flailing, she tried to reach them again. Gasps rippled through the crowd. Handel zipped up to catch her, but before he could get there, Diran rolled, flipping right side up again.
The crowd cheered.
“That’ll teach her and Alban to try and show you up. You’re not Queen’s Rider for nothing.” Zaarusha growled. “We’ll show them we can’t be outdone.”
Alyssa’s horn blew again. Adelina rose into the sky on Linaia, standing in the saddle. She jumped, hugging her knees and Linaia swooped below, bouncing Adelina with her tail. Adelina flew into the air and landed, sitting, in the saddle. She raised her arms high as they swooped past the mountain face. The crowd cheered.
“One of our old moves,” melded Ezaara.
“Appropriate for stunt races. She’s showing off her skill without going too far. Good show.”
Kierion and Riona paced to the front of the ledge. Still in the saddle, Kierion gave a bow. “My Queen and honored Queen’s Rider, I pledge to serve you.”
“Thank you, Kierion,” Ezaara replied.
“He’ll show everyone up. He has no fear,” Zaarusha said.
“No fear?”
“He’s a strategist. He believes in his ability to get himself out of any scrape.” Zaarusha chuckled.
The horn blew again. R
iona and Kierion were off, darting at the mountain faces. The downdraught of Riona’s wings whipped spectators’ hair into their eyes. Riona veered toward Ezaara and Zaarusha, Ezaara’s ribbons flew around her face in a rush of wind. Grinning, Kierion hunkered down on Riona’s back and they spiraled down in a tight coil, Riona’s nose nearly touching her tail as they whirled down to the basin. Kierion’s whoops and hollers broke the silence.
How was he doing that without feeling sick?
They touched down and Kierion leapt out of the saddle. Alyssa raised the horn to her lips, but Kierion called out, “Not yet.” In a flash, Riona was aloft with Kierion in her talons, ascending. She threw Kierion into the air and plunged down, snatching him up. His laughter rang out above the shocked spectators. Riona tossed him again, and swooped underneath him, catching him on her saddle.
Suddenly he slipped, hurtling toward the ground. Riona dived after Kierion.
Ezaara’s breath caught in her throat. Zaarusha’s haunches tensed and they were airborne. Handel shot toward Riona.
Kierion hollered, “Fooled you all,” as Riona snatched him in her talons again.
Shards, he was a trickster.
“That brat. We’ll show him.” Zaarusha’s relief swept through Ezaara.
Heart still pounding, Ezaara relaxed as Zaarusha backwinged.
There was stunned silence. Then someone clapped. Others joined in. The stunt pair spiraled lazily toward the clearing and Riona let Kierion down to the ground. He pumped his fists in the air. Raucous applause and cheering broke out.
Ezaara’s grip eased. “He always has the last laugh, doesn’t he?”
“Not today. It’s our turn. Hang on.” Zaarusha beat her wings.
The chill wind flung Ezaara’s ribbons into her face. She pulled up her hood, stuffing them inside. The basin was stunning, covered in its cool winter coat, stark against the blue sky. The icy forest and gray lake had been transformed from when she’d trained with Roberto on the sunny shore. Dragon’s claws, she missed him. Worried about him. Thank the Egg, they were going tomorrow.
“Focus.” Zaarusha broke into her thoughts.
Ezaara breathed deeply. “I’m ready.”
“We’ll start slowly,” thrummed Zaarusha. The queen flashed images at Ezaara, preparing her for their stunts.
She sucked in her breath. “That’ll be challenging.” She swallowed, trying to ease the knot in her throat. Ezaara relinquished her thoughts, letting Zaarusha take over. Fire slipped into her veins, warmth rushing through her chest and limbs.
“First, we’ll face our loyal and not-so-loyal subjects.” Zaarusha flew low over the crowd.
Ezaara scanned their upturned faces, taking in friendly smiles, sneers and suspicion—a far cry from when everyone had cheered her when she’d first come to Dragons’ Hold. Sofia had laid her poison well. Now, they had to undo it.
Zaarusha flew along the mountainside, past every dragon rider. “We can’t be divided when Zens attacks, or he’ll slaughter us. Today we must unite our people in their loyalty to you.”
Countless eyes stared at Ezaara. She slipped her arms into the leather arm-holds on Zaarusha’s saddle, anchored her feet in the stirrups, and pressed her knees against the queen’s sides. Her stomach plummeted as Zaarusha flipped upside-down, looping over and over.
Everything tumbled. Snatches of mountainside. Snowy trees. Wan sky. Blurred faces of dragons and riders. Zaarusha’s wingbeats whooshed in her ears. Her senses reeled, but through it all, fire danced in her, welcoming the challenge. She had Zaarusha. The queen would not let her down.
“I’ve stopped looping.”
“I can’t tell.” Everything was still spinning, images whirling in her confused brain. Her ears were roaring. Ezaara closed her eyes and breathed.
She opened them. That wasn’t her ears roaring, it was the crowd. She grinned, waving to them. “What’s next?”
“That will put Nadira in her place.” Zaarusha lazily circled the clearing. “Their applause is a bit premature, don’t you think? Wait until they see this.” Zaarusha shot up, zigzagging in and out of the peaks of Dragon’s Teeth.
Exhilaration rushed through Ezaara, making her chest expand until she thought it would burst. This was living. This was what their bond had been forged for. The queen hurtled down the slope at breakneck speed, swooping up just short of the trees. Ezaara’s laugh rang over the basin as they flew above the watching riders.
“Ready, Ezaara?”
“Give me the signal.” Ezaara stood on the saddle, waiting for Zaarusha’s tail flick. Sathir swirled around them like a vibrant river of colors.
Zaarusha’s tail twitched.
Ezaara dived, plunging head first, arms extended. Counting to four, she curled into a ball and somersaulted three times. Zaarusha flicked her tail against her back, bouncing her in the air. Ezaara readied herself for the second and third bounces, each one lighter than the last, then righted herself and fell into Zaarusha’s saddle, straddling it. She fastened her harness, and prepared to corkscrew.
Up they shot, higher than Zaarusha had ever taken her. Everyone receded from sight. Bitter wind tugged at her jerkin. Shivering, Ezaara shoved her arms through the arm-holds as the peaks of Dragon’s Teeth were dwarfed.
They dived, corkscrewing down. Zaarusha spun around her axis, wings tight against her sides. Ezaara’s eyes stung from wind, running with tears. Peaks flashed past in a dizzying whirl. The mountain faces blurred in a whirlpool of light, snow and rock. Down they spiraled in a dizzy coil. Nausea hit Ezaara. She closed her eyes and tuned into Zaarusha, sensing her sathir. Her stomach calmed.
With a lurch, Zaarusha unfurled her wings and righted herself, shooting up level with the riders on the ledges. “Sorry about pushing your limits, but they have to see that you aren’t just another rider.” Zaarusha’s fire blazed through them both. “They can’t touch us with their gossip, politics or personal attacks. You are Queen’s Rider, here at Dragons’ Hold to stay.”
Ezaara rubbed Zaarusha’s hide. “So, should we try some talon acrobatics?” They hadn’t practiced much, but why not?
“Absolutely. We still have height if I drop you.”
“You won’t.”
“You’re as cocky as Kierion.”
Ezaara laughed. “Maybe I’ll use some of his showy tactics.” Heart pounding, she slid off Zaarusha, the wind clawing at her jerkin. “Yahooo.” Just like Kierion.
Zaarusha dived, grasping Ezaara’s arms, twisting her talons around her hands.
Shoulders burning, she hung on. “I’m ready.”
Zaarusha’s grip slackened. Hand by hand, Ezaara adjusted her grip down until she was holding a talon in each hand. “I can’t hold on for long,” she melded. “It’s now or never.”
“Go,” barked Zaarusha.
Taking a deep breath, Ezaara tucked her knees against her chest, tipped her head and spun over.
The crowd below, oohed.
Breath rasping, Ezaara uncurled her body and transferred her hands to a talon. Lifting her legs, she swung back and forth, holding Zaarusha’s talon. Then Ezaara flipped upside down, hooking her legs around Zaarusha’s limb and releasing her hands.
This was amazing. The world was upside down and she was high above the ground, wind tossing her hair as Zaarusha flew along the cliff faces, Ezaara upside-down, holding on with her legs. Faces flashed past, painted with shock and astonishment.
They cheered. Dragons rumbled, flames flicking from their maws. Applause rang off the mountain faces.
“My legs are tired, Zaarusha.”
“Ready? I’m letting you go.” Zaarusha flung Ezaara upward with her powerful legs and caught her in the saddle. The queen pirouetted mid-air before the screaming crowd.
“Was that enough?” asked Ezaara.
“Nearly,” replied Zaarusha. “Take the ribbons from your hair, like the day you presented them to Roberto. We need to remind them of that day too, and the loyalty they felt for you, back then.”
Eza
ara unfastened her ribbons, holding them high, and Zaarusha leap-frogged through the air.
“E-zaa-ra! Zaa-ru-sha! E-zaa-ra! Zaa-ru-sha!” the crowd chanted, the way they had on her flight test.
In a whirl of faces and sound, Ezaara felt completely happy—well, not completely. Roberto was still captive.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get him tomorrow.”
What if tomorrow was too late?
Dragon Race
Dragons flew to the starting line melted in the snow, their riders dismounting, boots crunching as they gathered to await instructions. Adelina came over to Ezaara. “That was impressive.” She hugged her.
“Thank you,” Ezaara replied. “Wasn’t Kierion brilliant?”
The smile Adelina gave was genuine. “Sure was, the scoundrel.”
A bunch of lads were clapping Kierion on the back.
“Well done, Ezaara,” a woman said. “That was impressive.”
Across the sea of people, Ma and Pa waved at her, smiling proudly.
Alyssa blew the horn for silence. “We acknowledge our Honored Queen’s Rider, Ezaara, as the champion stunt rider of Dragons’ Realm. We also honor Kierion’s bravery, although he may have had more competition if our senior riders had participated.”
“Not fair,” called Kierion among good-natured laughter.
“Congratulations to our stunt riders. Good luck to all of you with future stunts. These are valuable in learning agility and trust, but be careful,” Alyssa said. “We don’t want to lose you. You’ll all be needed in the war against Zens and his tharuks. I’ll turn the time to Master Lars.”
Lars’ icy-blue eyes swept the assembled riders and spectators. “I’d like to remind you that Ezaara is Queen’s Rider, has been since she imprinted, and will remain so. Any questions regarding her eligibility will be handled by the council. Just now, you’ve seen that she is fearless and has a deep bond with the dragon queen. Not one of you could do what she just did. Much will be required of her when we go to war against Commander Zens and his armies of tharuks. Do not envy the responsibility she’s shouldered.”
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