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

by Eileen Mueller

  Ezaara’s breath caught in her throat—with his broad shoulders, lean muscular frame and love painted across his face, he was stunning. “Thank you. You look rather fine, too.” She could hardly believe he was hers. “Better than fine. Kissable.”

  “Trust him to see you before anyone else did,” Erob quipped.

  Roberto gave a mental chuckle.

  “There she is,” a boy cried, pointing. “It’s Ezaara.” Everyone gazed up.

  “Now.” Zaarusha swooped toward the crowd, wings gusting their hair, then shot up to the mage lights, flipping upside down. Exhilaration rushed through Ezaara, fire burning through her veins as she melded with her lover and both of their dragons. The sathir of hundreds of people eddied through the air, but none was as strong as Roberto’s flowing river of blue and silver that danced with her own multicolored light. Zaarusha righted again and corkscrewed toward Roberto on the stage.

  The crowd cheered and applause broke out. Sparks flitted from mages’ fingers, and dragons roared. Within two tail-lengths of Roberto, Zaarusha swerved and ascended, beating her wings.

  Roberto tucked the horn in his belt, leaping upon Erob. “Let’s show them what we can do, Ezaara. Let’s show them we belong together.”

  Erob and Roberto flew alongside Zaarusha and Ezaara, mirroring every move. People ducked as they swooped over their heads and oo-ed and ah-ed as they whirled through the cavern.

  Something loosened in Ezaara’s chest. “Finally, I can love you without hiding.”

  “Nothing can stop us now.” Roberto’s smile flashed as Erob zipped past them to land on one end of the stage.

  Zaarusha landed at the other end. Lars strummed his harp, and a soaring melody filled the cavern.

  Roberto dismounted and walked toward Ezaara, still pale from his time in Death Valley, but just as attractive as he’d always been. Better.

  “Stay in the saddle,” Zaarusha warned.

  She took him in, in dark garb, from his boots to his shoulders. “Adelina’s done a fine job kitting you out.”

  He moved toward her with the grace and strength of a mountain cat, and smiled, his dark eyes sparkling with warmth, his love flowing through her. “Gods, your love is glorious,” he melded. “It fills me, makes me want to soar.”

  Her whole being sang. Was he really all hers?

  “I sure am.” His joy washed over her, making her heart swell with sweetness. If she felt any better, she’d burst.

  Roberto scratched Zaarusha’s snout, then reached up to take Ezaara’s hand, his warm fingers enclosing hers.

  Her heart raced. “Remember that moment when I first really saw you, at the river?”

  “During the race? How could I forget? At night in Death Valley, when Zens was asleep, I took that memory out, turning it over and over in my mind. It kept me strong. You make me stronger, a better man.” He kissed her fingertips, sending a jolt of fire spiraling to her core. Then he reached up and placed his hands at her waist, lifting her down from Zaarusha.

  Sandalwood and mint wafted from him. They were so close, his body warmth radiated through her thin garments. He inhaled deeply, his dark eyes reflecting mage light, and his blue sathir swirling around her, wrapping her in its soft embrace. It felt like coming home.

  §

  Gods, she was gorgeous. It blew his mind. How did he—the useless, abused son of a traitor— deserve someone this loving and beautiful?

  “With good taste in dragons,” said Erob.

  “The best,” Roberto agreed.

  Ezaara shimmered with colors. The threads and braids in her hair reminded him of her first flight, when he’d already suspected she was someone special. A riot of color flitted through his mind. Her sathir was like a vibrant multifaceted jewel. Her emerald eyes were bright with excitement and her cheeks flushed. His fingers itched to trace her skin. Dragon’s claws, her smile was so sharding alluring.

  §

  Amid applause and cheering, Roberto took Ezaara’s hand and led her to the center of the stage to stand before Lars. Dragons roared as he held her hand high and they faced the crowd. Mage lights zipped through the air, leaving fiery trails.

  Ezaara was filled with wonder. How had she gone from being an ignorant girl from Lush Valley, to this?

  “By being yourself, having courage and working hard,” Zaarusha said. “Well done.”

  Lars blew a horn until the crowd quieted, then cleared his throat. “Master Roberto has requested the hand of Ezaara, honored Rider of Queen Zaarusha, to be his lifelong mate and lover, the mother of his littlings and his companion forever. Are there any objections to this marriage?”

  A catcall broke out from the folk, “She’s far too pretty for him.”

  “Thank you, Kierion,” said Lars dryly. “Anyone else?” Silence. “Then I request Ezaara and Roberto’s families upon the stage.”

  Marlies, Hans, and Tomaaz came upstairs to Ezaara’s side. Adelina joined Roberto.

  Ezaara had rehearsed this with Lars and her parents, but now it was actually happening. She stepped forward with her hand upon her heart. It was thrumming so wildly, she could feel it against her palm. She faced Adelina, raising her voice. “I pledge to love and cherish your brother Roberto to the end of my days and beyond, sacrificing my life for his, if necessary.”

  Adelina inclined her head, lip trembling. “May your love soar upon dragon wings.”

  They embraced, Adelina’s body shaking as Ezaara held her tight. Ezaara whispered, “It’s all right, Adelina, you’re not losing your brother, you’re gaining a sister.”

  §

  Roberto placed his fist upon his heart and faced Hans and Marlies. “I pledge to love and cherish your beautiful daughter Ezaara, to the end of my days and beyond, sacrificing my life for hers, if necessary. I also pledge to be a good and loving father, always tender and compassionate to our littlings.”

  Hans raised an eyebrow at Roberto’s added words about fatherhood. “May your love soar upon dragon wings.”

  Marlies squeezed his hand, saying, “I know your love will soar upon dragon wings. I believe it already does.”

  “You’ll make a fantastic father,” Ezaara melded.

  He hoped so. The only decent role model he’d had was his mother.

  Hans gave Roberto a bear hug, holding on to him. “Welcome to our family.”

  Family—he and Adelina had been alone for so long.

  §

  Roberto held Ezaara’s hand in his, his thumb tracing tiny circles on the back of her hand, making her skin tingle.

  Adelina took two green ribbons from her pocket, passing one to Hans and Marlies. She smiled at Ezaara. “These are the ribbons from your first flight.”

  “Fitting,” Roberto said. “Those ribbons bound us together.”

  He’d offered his life for her, bleeding on the orange Robandi sands.

  Her parents and Adelina tied the ribbons around their joined hands. The crowd waited with bated breath.

  Heart soaring like a dragon taking flight, Ezaara gazed at Roberto. “I vow to love you, cherish you, and help you to grow and become the best you can be. I will support you and Erob and our littlings in this life and forever once we pass beyond, into the land of departed dragons. I vow to be one with you.”

  Fire seared in Roberto’s eyes. “I will always love you, protect you and hold you precious above everything else in the world. I pledge my life to you, our family, Erob and Zaarusha, and promise to serve you and love you for the rest of my days and beyond. I hope my best will be good enough. I, too, vow to be one with you.”

  “You’re good enough. Perfect for me.”

  He tilted his head and grinned. “You don’t mind me kissing you in front of all these people?”

  “I’d mind if you didn’t.” Gods, please.

  He tilted his head and, with his free hand, cupped her cheek, stroking her skin with his thumb. “I love you, Ezaara.”

  “And I love you.” She placed her hand at the back of his neck, and gently pulled his m
outh to hers.

  Roberto’s lips were warm, soft, and, gods, so delicious.

  The roar of the crowd was deafening, but Ezaara didn’t care. She kissed the man she loved, wrapped in the warm shimmering strands of their joint sathir.

  Nearby, Lars blew a horn. The clapping subsided.

  “We’ll finish this later,” Roberto melded.

  “I hope so.”

  He laughed, his face open and carefree. “I know so.”

  Lars’ voice boomed through the cavern. “We, the Council of the Twelve Dragon Masters, stand today as witnesses to the hand-fasting vows of Roberto of Naobia, son of Amato and Lucia, and Ezaara of Lush Valley, daughter of Hans and Marlies. We hope that dragon fire may keep their love glowing through the years.” Lars grinned. “And I personally thank them for their service to Dragons’ Realm.”

  “Master Lars.” A sweet voice floated to the stage. At the front of the crowd, a littling girl with red curls stretched her hand up.

  “Do you have a question?” Lars asked her.

  “I have three,” the littling said.

  “Don’t worry, Master Lars,” the girl’s mother said, blushing. “It’s really all right.”

  Lars crouched down at the edge of the stage, addressing the girl. “Please ask.”

  “Can I have a pretty dress like Ezaara’s?”

  There was a smattering of laughter as Lars responded. “Yes, you may. Master Hendrik will get one of his tailors to make you one.” Behind him, Master Hendrik nodded. “What’s your next question?”

  “Will I be as pretty as Ezaara one day?”

  Lars smiled. “I believe you already are. What’s your last question?”

  “Me, pretty? Thank you, Master Lars. Ma, did you hear that?” she squealed.

  Lars smiled. “Your last question?”

  “It’s about Anakisha’s prophecy. Someone said it wasn’t filled. What does that mean?”

  Ezaara groaned. “Oh, not this. Will it never go away?”

  “No, it won’t,” Zaarusha melded.

  “Ah, a good question. One Master Roberto was going to address tonight,” Master Lars said, gesturing Roberto forward.

  With their hands bound, Ezaara had no choice but to go with him. Turning to her, he took the fine silver chain holding Anakisha’s teardrop and tried to lift it over her head.

  “Um, I’m having problems taking this off with one hand,” Roberto confessed.

  “Here, let me hold the clasp,” Ezaara said, helping him.

  Roberto held Anakisha’s teardrop high. It twirled on the end of the chain, flashing. “Ezaara wears this crystal, which was bequeathed to me by my mother, Lucia. It once belonged to my grandmother, Anakisha, the last Queen’s Rider and my mothers’ mother. I didn’t know who my grandmother was, until Master Tonio told me this morning. Some of you may not know that Anakisha’s children were scattered throughout Dragons’ Realm, in hiding, to prevent them from becoming targets. Apparently, Ma kept it a secret, not even telling us or my father, Amato.”

  A shocked silence met his statement.

  Then Sofia called out, “They’re hand-fasted. Bonded as one. Roberto’s Anakisha’s progeny, so the prophecy’s fulfilled.”

  Roberto grinned, holding their tied hands high.

  Lars blew his horn once more. “Yes, Anakisha’s prophecy is fulfilled.” Handel roared, shaking the stage. “Now, Roberto and Ezaara will have the first dance as a hand-fasted couple,” Lars said. “Let’s celebrate, dance, and enjoy this fine feast.”

  Musicians struck up the lively hand-fasting tune.

  Sathir rippled around them as Roberto placed his hand at Ezaara’s waist and swept her around the stage in time to the music. Enfolded in his strong arms, his eyes caressing her face, and his mind melded with hers, her joy was complete.

  “This feels so right,” he melded. “I never thought I’d amount to anything after Amato and Zens’ abuse. Never thought I’d be able to give my heart to anyone. I was broken, nothing.”

  “You’re everything to me.” Ezaara rested her head against Roberto’s shoulder, and he pulled her tight as they danced. “Everything.”

  §

  Lars was fetching another carafe from the drinks table as Tonio approached him. “Evening, Tonio. You happy with how things have turned out?”

  “Very. That was a close thing. Roberto could’ve been killed by Zens and Anakisha’s prophecy never would have been fulfilled.”

  Lars took a sip of grape juice. “She could have married Urs or Lofty. They’re both Anakisha’s descendants.”

  Tonio shook his head. “Neither of them are right for her. Roberto is. I shouldn’t have insisted on leaving him in Death Valley. I apologize for my terrible lapse of judgment. With his talents, he’s an asset to the council, but could have been a terrible weapon in Zens’ hands.”

  “He’d rather be broken or dead than harm our people,” Lars replied.

  “I think you’re right.” Tonio selected a bottle of wine and headed back to his table.

  Lars stared after him, muttering, “That’s a good change. What in the Egg’s name has gotten into him?”

  §

  Leah tugged Mara over to a group of mages, all dressed in their fancy cloaks. “You’ve got to see this, it’s incredible.”

  “I haven’t met any wizards before,” Mara said. “I’m not sure if they’re safe.”

  Leah smiled. “They’re nothing to be scared of. Kierion fights tharuks with mages all the time. One of them is my friend.”

  “Really?” Mara asked, round-eyed. “Your friend?”

  “Yes, he even gave me flowers once.” Leah’s chest swelled with pride. “You might get some too, if you’re lucky.”

  Mara just bit her lip.

  A Naobian mage twitched his fingers, sending a line of mage lights spiraling down toward the dancers. He spread his fingers and the lights spun off in different directions, casting their green glow over people’s faces. The man stepped back, nearly bumping into Leah. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He smiled. “I’m Jael. Nice to meet you.”

  Mara shrunk back, but Leah held herself tall. “Hi, Jael, I’m Leah and this is my friend Mara. Have you seen Fenni?”

  “Sure, he’s over there.” Jael pointed to a row of wizards sitting in chairs along the back wall. Fenni was watching the dancers, his long legs crossed at the ankles.

  “Thanks.” She dragged Mara over. “Hi, Fenni.”

  “Lovely to see you, Leah.” He smiled. Flourishing his hands, he created a beautiful bouquet of flaming flowers. “Just for you.” The flowers exploded into tiny green stars and disappeared.

  Leah grinned. “Thanks, Fenni. Could Mara have some too?”

  His green eyes twinkled. “You were my first friend at Dragons’ Hold, Leah, so my flowers are just for you.” Fenni’s gaze drifted over Leah’s shoulder.

  She turned. Gret was walking by, her long blonde plaits swinging.

  “Ah, excuse me.” Fenni made a beeline for Gret.

  “He’s nice,” said Mara. “You’re so lucky.” Her gaze followed Fenni. “Do you think he likes Gret?”

  As Fenni whisked Gret into his arms, leading her around the dance floor, Leah nodded. “Definitely.”

  §

  In the corner, sitting on an overstuffed sofa, Giant John nudged Giddi. “See those two?” He waved his goat’s haunch toward Fenni, who was dancing with a tall girl, holding her as if she was fragile. “Maybe there’s hope for riders and wizards after all.”

  John had always had an appetite to suit his frame, so Giddi ignored the meat waving about under his nose, and followed John’s gesture. Young Fenni was beaming at his dance partner—an athletic-looking dragon rider with long blonde plaits. She ducked her head shyly then glanced up at him, blushing. Fenni beamed.

  “Hope?” Giddi snorted. “So, a rider falling in love with a wizard will make Zens go away?” he said, laying on his sarcasm, especially for John. “And Lars is going to welcome Mazyka back, is he? And the moon has turned a
violent shade of pink? Hope, indeed. The only hope we have is in combating Zens’ new threat.”

  “Or finding your two young mages.” Giant John speared a potato with his knife and ate it in one bite.

  “Zens must’ve taken Sorcha and Velrama for a reason.” Giddi scratched his head. What, though?

  Lofty danced by with a short girl in his arms. “Got a great reach, that one,” said Giant John.

  “You mean with a sword or with that girl? She’s half his size.”

  Giant John sighed in mock exasperation and rolled his eyes.

  Truth was, the Queen’s Rider’s hand-fasting reminded Giddi of his own, when he’d been head of the Wizard Council and Mazyka had been his trainee. Although it had been years since Mazyka had been lost through the world gate, his fierce, aching heart had never stopped loving her.

  §

  Kierion raised his arm so Adelina could twirl under it. As well as being pretty and vivacious, she was as graceful as a swan. He could hardly believe his luck. He’d been sitting there, trying not to stare, because, wow, she looked gorgeous—with her hair up in a knot and a scarlet dress that swirled as she danced, showing off her dark, dark eyes. And tan skin. He cleared his throat, glancing away as she smiled up at him. She’d asked him to dance. He could hardly say no, could he? Not that he’d wanted to say no …

  He looked down and met her sparkling eyes. She looked much better than when he’d rescued her in Death Valley. Too good. Kierion sighed. She was still so young.

  Adelina twirled again. Kierion pulled her back into his arms. She was so tiny, so compact, yet full of energy. She snuggled her head against his chest.

  Shards, Kierion’s bones were melting.

  Adelina murmured. He bent his head down to hear her better. “It’s my name day next week and I’ll be sixteen summers,” she said. “Would you spend the day with me?”

  Kierion felt a jolt in his gut. Sixteen? He’d thought she was turning fifteen. He swallowed, lost for words.

  She laughed at his nervousness, eyes dancing.