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

by Eileen Mueller

  “Come on, Ezaara, have some dinner. You’ll feel better,” Kierion insisted.

  “Just let me talk to my mother, and I’ll be with you in a few moments.”

  She approached Ma as she left the buffet. “Ah, Ma, do you have a moment?”

  Ma’s eyes flitted to either side of them. “Sure, I need to talk to you, too.” She placed her plate on the table next to Pa’s, and led Ezaara into a quiet corner.

  “Ma, I saw you talking to Tonio. Why was he so angry?”

  “He’s changed, Ezaara. When I first came here and trained as one of his dragon corps members, he was fiery, but not bitter. The years have done him a disservice. His heart has grown hard.”

  What was that about? “Ah …”

  “Tonio has canceled tomorrow morning’s council meeting.”

  “What?” That louse. “But we—”

  “So, I broached him about the rescue plan for Master Roberto. I’ve been to Death Valley. Every day there is a living nightmare. Tomaaz got out, but our master of mental faculties is still there …” Ma gripped Ezaara’s shoulders, her turquoise eyes burning. “I think the wine was talking, but Tonio admitted why he hasn’t acted. Roberto’s father killed Tonio’s wife.”

  Ezaara’s head reeled. “But Roberto’s not his father. His father was a mean-spirited bully who beat his littlings and broke his wife’s back. It eventually killed her.”

  “Oh gods. Amato?” Ma’s face grew pale. She clutched Ezaara’s arm. “Amato did that?”

  Ezaara nodded. Ma had known Amato? She’d had no idea.

  “And I thought I loved him …” Ma whispered to herself, a faraway look in her eyes.

  Ma had loved Amato, that awful man who’d beaten his family?

  Ma focused on Ezaara again. “So, what Tonio said is true. Do you love Roberto?”

  The clamor of the feast died away. The seconds stretched out like sand on a never-ending shore. Ezaara swallowed. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I do.”

  Ma reached into her jerkin pocket and pressed something small and hard into Ezaara’s hand. A ring. “Then go,” she said. “Go and save the man you love.” She enveloped Ezaara in her embrace. “Use Kisha’s ring again, but be careful. I don’t want to lose you.”

  §

  Adelina picked at her food. It wasn’t fair to have delicious food when her brother could be lying dead in Death Valley. Ezaara had insisted the council was going to rescue him tomorrow, but what if it was too late? And why had they waited so long? She pushed back her chair.

  “Hey, are you off so soon?” Kierion asked.

  Shards, his eyes were so sweet—that gorgeous blue that made her want to melt inside. “Just getting a drink.” Adelina made her way over to the beverage table. She was filling her cup with grape juice when she heard her father’s name. Casually, she turned her head. At the other end of the table, Tonio was gesticulating at Marlies, his voice slurred. Adelina turned away, sipping her drink and listening. Tonio mentioned her mother—and then Ezaara and Roberto.

  She’d long suspected that her brother was in love with the Queen’s Rider. No, she’d known it, but never dared discuss it with Roberto—not when the punishment for loving a trainee was banishment. Now Tonio was refusing to rescue him because Amato, her cursed shrotty father, had let tharuks capture Tonio’s new wife years ago. She didn’t blame him. She hated Amato too. But to visit that hate upon the very children Amato had beaten? And abandon her brother in Death Valley after sending him there? That was a whole new level of hatred.

  Rage burned through Adelina.

  Eyes stinging, she stalked from the table, just as Kierion reached her.

  He took her cup, depositing it nearby, and flashed her a grin. “Want to dance?” His grin faltered. “Oh, are you all right?”

  Adelina hesitated. Roberto’s love for Ezaara was not her secret to spill. “Just a little tired.”

  “The music’s good. It’ll get your feet tapping.”

  Dancing was the last thing she felt like, but Adelina let Kierion lead her past the tables to the dance area.

  “You were amazing today,” he beamed. “I was so proud of you during stunts.” Holding her hand in his, and placing his other on her waist, he whisked her around the floor in time to the music.

  He smelled of leather and candle wax, a nice combination. “Your stunts were way better than mine.”

  Kierion quirked an eyebrow. “I was showing off, but yours showed precision and restraint in the face of Nadira and Alban’s silly tactics.”

  “So, you got that?”

  “I did.” His eyes played across her face as the music changed tempo. “That’s the introduction to the farlauf. We danced this in Montanara when I was a kid, but I always got in trouble for playing pranks during dances.”

  “That’s hard to believe, Kierion.” She had to laugh.

  He grinned. “The key is to never play the same trick twice. That’s what keeps it interesting.”

  “Never the same one twice?”

  He leaned close. “Once I dropped my drink on the floor, and as I mopped it up, I tied my friend’s bootlaces together. When the music changed, he stood up to dance and fell flat on his face.” His eyes shone. “I’ve tried salt in the punch, sugar in the vegetables. Tuned the band’s instruments to be off key. I even nailed someone’s shoes to the floor, once. Another time, I put a few fish in pockets.”

  “You’re shocking. Where do you come up with all these ideas?” He was incorrigible, but, gods, so adorable.

  “Don’t let Lars see us grinning, he’ll think I’m up to something again. I haven’t played a decent prank since I hid those arrows. What with seeing Fenni and Jael, I haven’t had time.”

  Kierion’s grin was as broad as his shoulders. Adelina found herself admiring both. He swept her into the throng, his arm around her as they waltzed down the center of two lines of people.

  “Surely the other morning’s effort counts?” she asked as they moved in time.

  “Nah, that was nothing.”

  Swapping Sofia’s butter for cheese really was nothing compared to what Kierion usually got up to, but Sofia had been as mad as a dragon with an ingrown talon. “How’s tharuk hunting going?” Ezaara was talking to her mother, looking very serious, over in a corner. Was Marlies telling her what Tonio had said?

  “Good, we’re going out tomorrow and taking Tomaaz with us,” Kierion said. “Do you want to come?”

  Ezaara and Marlies left the cavern. What was the Queen’s Rider up to? Adelina had to know. Once, Ezaara had gone to the Wastelands to get her brother. Maybe this time they could go together. “Ah, I think I’ll rest tomorrow, like Master Derek suggested.”

  He cocked his head. “Are you sure? You’re usually so full of energy.”

  How did he do that? Make her feel special with such a simple statement. “Since I’ve knocked my head, I tire easily,” Adelina lied. Guilt flashed across his face. Oh shards, now her lie had made him feel bad.

  The music slowed. “Another dance?” Kierion asked, eyes hopeful.

  “Too much racing,” said Adelina stifling a fake yawn. “I’m done in. I’ll get a drink and go to bed.”

  “Let me walk you.” Kierion took her elbow and steered her through the crowd to the drinks table. He grinned as he passed her a glass of juice. “None of this is salted.”

  “Thanks, Kierion.” She’d love to spend time with him, but she had to see Ezaara—alone.

  He swiped a plate of pastries from the desert table and they went into the corridor.

  “Linaia, is Zaarusha about?”

  “On the infirmary ledge.”

  “Is someone hurt?”

  “No. Ezaara and Marlies are talking, and Ezaara’s packing saddlebags.”

  Shards, Ezaara was leaving now—without her.

  “Linaia,” melded Adelina, “meet me at my cavern. Kierion is proving hard to shake.”

  “The only time you haven’t enjoyed his company,” teased her cheeky dragon.

&n
bsp; It was true, especially since Roberto had left with Tomaaz two moons ago, for Death Valley. Two moons. Shards, he’d be a wreck by now. Or dead.

  Kierion chatted, but Adelina barely heard him. “Linaia, if we’re going to Death Valley with Ezaara, I’ll need warm clothes, healing supplies, food and water. Anything else?”

  “Not that I can think of. I’ve hunted, so I’ll be fine. I’m waiting in my den.”

  “Can you meld with Zaarusha and tell her to wait for us?”

  “I’ve tried, but I can’t connect with her.”

  “What about Erob?”

  “You didn’t hear what I said, did you, Adelina?” Kierion asked.

  His question jolted Adelina out of her thoughts. They’d reached her door. Adelina opened it. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

  Kierion walked inside and deposited the plate of pastries on her bedside table. “There,” he said with a flourish. “Now you can rest the whole day tomorrow and not even get out of bed.”

  He was so thoughtful. She’d lied to him and was brushing him off, yet he was still taking care of her. Adelina’s eyes pricked.

  “You are tired.” Kierion looked down at her with his blue eyes and stroked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Good night,” he said softly and walked out the door.

  He was her best friend and she’d lied to him, but she had no time to lose. Adelina threw on a cloak and ran to Linaia’s den with the pastries and a full waterskin. She didn’t have adequate supplies, but she couldn’t afford to miss Ezaara.

  §

  Linaia flapped her wings and they soared above the basin, a bitter wind rushing at Adelina. Ezaara was on Zaarusha, ascending to land on Heaven’s Peak, the highest mountain in the southern end of Dragon’s Teeth. Adelina melded with Linaia. “Let’s make sure we aren’t seen.”

  A throaty chuckled emanated from her dragon. “That shouldn’t be too hard.” Linaia could control her scales, changing them to match the sky, a talent that could prove useful tonight. Within moments, Linaia’s scales were the darkest inky blue.

  Zaarusha headed westward.

  Even though she’d been expecting it, Adelina’s heart leapt. “Death Valley. Ezaara is heading off to get Roberto. Linaia, we have to catch them.”

  Zaarusha was soon below them, a dark splotch above the snow laden forest.

  “We’ve nearly caught up. I’ll meld with Zaarusha in a moment,” Linaia said.

  With a pop, Ezaara and Zaarusha disappeared.

  “We’ve lost them. Do you want me to go lower and search?”

  “Yes.” Adelina’s gut tightened. She wished she could deny the pop she’d heard. Linaia skimmed the treetops of the tangled wilderness between Dragon’s Teeth and Great Spanglewood Forest. Snow lay thick on the branches and shadows lurked among the snarled plants between the trees. “Linaia, it’s no use. Ezaara must have used Anakisha’s ring. She’s gone to Death Valley.” The chill nipped at her skin. Disappointment crushed her chest.

  “Then we’ll follow. It’s only a few days’ flight.”

  “Alone? Against all of those tharuks? I don’t know where to look.” Adelina bit her lip. “Should we ask Kierion for help?”

  “With his help, what could possibly go wrong?” answered Linaia.

  Adelina sighed. “You’re right. Things do get out of hand when Kierion’s involved. We’ll go alone.”

  Broken

  The skin on Ezaara’s neck crawled, as if she was being followed, but whenever she looked around, there were no dragons in sight. “Something’s not right, Zaarusha, we’d better get to Death Valley.” She rubbed Kisha’s ring, murmuring, “Kisha.” With a pop, the eerie wilderness outside the rim of Dragon’s Teeth disappeared, and they were in a tunnel of gold clouds, with Anakisha floating toward them. Between the golden clouds was a dark rift, weeping tendrils of black, cloying fog.

  “Anakisha,” Ezaara called, “there’s fog leaking into your realm gate. It feels evil.”

  “Frequent use leads to rifts in the gate, which Zens could discover and exploit.”

  That would be awful. Imagine him appearing with troops of tharuks wherever and whenever he wanted. Ma had mentioned the risks—and they’d ignored them. Now, the gates were damaged. “Anakisha, Master Roberto is Zens’ captive in Death Valley.”

  Anakisha pointed at Ezaara’s chest. “You’re wearing my dream catcher.”

  Pa was right—it was Anakisha’s. Ezaara nodded.

  “Have you dreamed of Roberto? Seen his pain and suffering?”

  Ezaara stared at Anakisha in shock, nodding mutely.

  Anakisha pulled the fine silver chain that rested at Ezaara’s throat, bringing the tear-shaped crystal into view. “This crystal amplifies Roberto’s thoughts while you both sleep, enabling you to meld over long distances with him, feel his pain, and relive your memories together. The crystal only functions between the Queen’s Rider and her true mate.”

  Tomaaz’s message from Roberto had quoted Roberto’s mother, saying teardrops amplify thoughts. And she’d thought Roberto had given her a simple keepsake between lovers. Had he understood the message? “He’s been limplocked. He could be dying.”

  “The future of Dragons’ Realm depends upon you both, but be cautious, Zens is formidable.”

  “Anakisha,” Ezaara asked, “what of your prophecy? They’re saying I can’t be Queen’s Rider.”

  “My prophecy stands, and you are Queen’s Rider. Now, go, and save your loved one.”

  With a flip of Zaarusha’s wings and a crack, they appeared in the dark, landing just below a Terramite peak.

  Ezaara shouldered the small rucksack of supplies Ma had given her, then slid off Zaarusha. She pressed her cheek against her dragon’s muzzle. “Thank you for bringing me.”

  “The same applies as last time: find Roberto, but if it gets too dangerous, get out.”

  Ezaara flung her arms around Zaarusha’s neck, then made her way up the hill and scurried behind some icy boulders. Zaarusha ascended into the night sky, swallowed by darkness. Ezaara was alone. No one was here to help. Only Ma knew she’d come. She tugged her camouflage cloak around her and skirted around the rocks, and headed down toward her enemy’s lair, avoiding the tharuks on watch.

  §

  Ezaara woke in the passage outside the cavern where Roberto was captive. She’d been here for a day, mind submerged, waiting in the dark until Roberto was alone. Now, the torches in Roberto’s cavern were extinguished. She could hear him breathing and the occasional grunt of pain or clank of chains, so he was still alive. Her stomach growled, gnawing a hungry hole inside her. She took a sip of water. Tore off some flatbread and chewed it.

  She must’ve been missed at Dragons’ Hold by now. What excuses was Ma making for her absence?

  Ezaara stiffened as 000 entered Roberto’s cavern again, carrying a torch. She pressed her face to the rock so she could see.

  Roberto was facing her, slumped against the stone wall on the far side of the cavern, mouth slack, eyes shut, his hands curled in. One arm was shackled to the wall and his leg to the floor. As the enormous tharuk kicked him, he flinched. His eyes opened, then drooped again, and his head slumped on his chest. There was no doubt—he was limplocked. If she didn’t help him soon, he’d be dead.

  §

  “To your feet,” 000 barked. The tharuk’s tusks ran slick with dark saliva.

  Roberto staggered, chains clanking, an arm on the wall for support. His breath was short and his mind foggy. Shards, he’d forgotten to take clear-mind berries. The stench of 000’s fetid breath took Roberto’s own breath away, making his chest tight. The gray fog over his eyes was worse. If only he could think straight.

  “Ready?” 000 uncoiled a short whip and cracked it on the floor.

  Roberto’s ears rang with the sharp retort.

  “Time to dance.” 000 flicked the whip near Roberto’s feet, making him hop, the chain biting his ankle.

  The monster cracked the whip again, then swept it in an arc along the flo
or. Roberto jumped. The whip hit the wall with a snap and flicked along the floor toward him again. Roberto leaped, pulling his legs up, but the chain yanked him down to the stone, bruising his backside. That sharding limplock. If only he could control his limbs. Scrambling to his feet, he jumped again, but his legs were clumsy and slow. The whip snared his chain. 000 yanked hard. Roberto smashed into the floor. Sharp pain pierced his side. He breathed in. Winced. Yep, cracked ribs.

  Through the blurry gray, 000 loomed over him, a sadistic grin splitting the tharuk’s ugly face. “Not learned to dance yet? Need more lessons.”

  The whip sang, coiling around Roberto’s arm. 000 yanked him to stand, then forward, until the chains on his arm and ankle were gnawing his flesh, stretched taut behind him. 000 tugged again. His shoulder socket burned.

  And again.

  Roberto’s hip seared. Dragon gods, would the monster yank his leg from his body?

  000 released the whip.

  Roberto crashed to the floor, shackles clanking, smacking face-first onto the granite. The tang of blood filled his mouth, flowing from his throbbing nose. His tongue was swelling. One of his front teeth was loose. He gazed through a swollen eye at 000, focusing on his pain, blocking any other thoughts from his mind.

  “That’ll keep you busy.” 000 chuckled. “See you tomorrow.” It slammed the door, its chortles echoing down the tunnel.

  Roberto crawled to the wall, his sharding chains graunching against his bones as he got tangled in them. After waiting to ensure 000 wasn’t returning, Roberto fumbled with the sleeve of his jerkin, trying to get his clear-mind berries. His stiffened fingers couldn’t grasp the string. After 000 had first poisoned him with limplock, Roberto had taken some of the remedy hidden inside his jerkin. It had slowed the effect of the paralyzing poison, but he hadn’t been able to access it since. Now, his fingers were definitely stiffer and his feet clumsy.

  He’d wait until Zens’ attentiveness slackened. The commander slept for a few hours each night—the only time Roberto could risk thinking clearly, without having to block Zens. Face throbbing and body aching all over, Roberto closed his eyes.