000 had stalked in, claws dripping with green gunge. “Now, boss?” After a cursory nod from Zens, 000 raked Roberto’s chest. The green slime entered the wounds, dissolving in Roberto’s blood—limplock. He’d been poisoned and had a few days to live.
Ezaara’s heart was still rattling like a quiver of arrows. With such frightening dreams, no wonder she was afraid to sleep.
What if this was really happening to Roberto? Some kind of premonition, like her father, Taliesin and Lovina sometimes had?
She shook her head. Ridiculous. Although she had some talents, prophecy wasn’t one of them. Her hand flew to the comforting crystal at her neck. Oh, the teardrop was hot—not hot enough to burn, but hot enough to be uncomfortable. She touched it again. Yes, definitely warm. Strange. It shouldn’t be. She’d had it on the outside of her nightgown all night.
Ezaara got out of bed and dressed quickly. She touched the teardrop again. It was cooling already. Today was race day. Tomorrow, the council would rescue Roberto. In the seven days since she’d visited Death Valley, she’d rushed from flight training high on rocky crags, to strategy lessons in the main cavern, then to the target range—time and time again—training new dragon riders. Derek, master of instruction, had been observing her lessons. Shards, she’d been so distracted with Roberto being tortured, she was sure she’d done a lousy job, but yesterday, he’d given her the nod. After three moons here, she was now able to train new riders without supervision. The last task before she was inducted as Queen’s Rider was today’s race.
Zaarusha snorted. “Typical riders. I chose you back at the clearing in Lush Valley three moons ago. I knew you were right. But no, they had to perform mental tests and train you further … Ridiculous. They should trust their queen.”
“Roberto does trust you, Zaarusha. But dragons can be turned by swayweed. What if I was feeding it to you? Then the whole realm would be in danger.”
“At least you’ll be full Queen’s Rider with all the power to rule the realm after the race tomorrow.”
“What’s the race like?”
“Challenging but fun. They’ll test stunts and speed.” Zaarusha appeared at the archway between her den and Ezaara’s cavern. The queen huffed her breath out, warming the air. Ezaara scratched Zaarusha’s eye ridges. “Ah, that feels good, my favorite spot,” Zaarusha purred. “Your fingers are cold. You need a warm brew. Fetch your cup.”
She scalded the water. Ezaara added soppleberries to it, then sat back on her bed, drinking tea.
Feet sounded outside her door and someone knocked.
So early? Ezaara opened it to Tomaaz and Lovina. “Come in. Want some tea?”
“That would be great,” said Tomaaz, taking cups to Zaarusha.
Lovina drummed her fingers against a flat bundle wrapped in cloth, tucked under her other arm.
“What’s going on?” Ezaara asked.
Lovina chewed her lip. “I don’t know if Zaarusha will be safe at the race today. This morning I saw a vision and was overcome with a strong compulsion to paint. This came out.” She tugged the cloth away, exposing a painting of Zaarusha being swallowed by flame. The queen’s scales were blistered. Her wings charred and ragged.
Dread coiled in Ezaara’s stomach.
“I kept seeing it until I’d painted it.”
“It’s a shame you can’t see the dragon creating the flames. Then we’d know who it is.” Tomaaz brought the tea over. “We should go and see Pa. As master of prophecy, he’ll know how to interpret this.”
“I’m asking Zaarusha if she wants to cancel the race.” Ezaara melded with the queen.
“I’m racing, no matter what,” Zaarusha said. “You must lead the realm and the council. I’ve had enough politics.”
“I don’t want you hurt.” Gods, no.
“I’ll get Tonio and Lars to make a defensive plan.”
When they reached Ma and Pa’s chambers, Pa was just getting up.
“Lovina’s had a recurring vision that a dragon will flame Zaarusha during the race,” Ezaara said.
“You too?” Pa examined Lovina’s painting, shaking his head. “That’s an uncanny talent, Lovina. I’ve just woken from a similar dream.”
Lovina nodded, Tomaaz’s arm around her.
Ezaara felt a pang of jealousy. They got to express their love so freely, while she and Roberto had to hide theirs. Soon, when she was no longer his student, they wouldn’t hide any more.
Pa replied, “Taliesin and I have both had a similar dream. Handel tried to see who the dragon was, with no luck.”
“Zaarusha insists on racing,” Ezaara said.
“As she should,” said Pa. “There are enough rumors running wild in this place to unsaddle a dragon. So, race, Ezaara, and claim your rightful place. Hopefully we’ll be able to smoke out the rogue dragon without Zaarusha being hurt. I’ll sort something out with Tonio and Lars.” Pa’s eyes narrowed, fixing on the crystal teardrop at her neck. “Who did you say gave you that?”
Ezaara kept her voice offhand. “Oh, a friend.” A friend who was in danger, right now. Nothing must happen to Zaarusha the day before Roberto’s rescue.
§
Adelina bustled into Ezaara’s cavern. “I’ve decided what you should wear for the race today.”
Ezaara rolled her eyes.
“Come on,” Adelina cajoled, giving Ezaara an overly-bright smile. “It’s a public event and rumors are running rife about you. We need to do something that reminds people of who you are and what you can achieve.” Her eyes were circled with rings as dark as Death Valley.
Ezaara put a hand on her arm. “We’re rescuing Roberto tomorrow, Adelina.”
Her dark eyes lit up. “You are?”
“The council will be meeting first thing in the morning to discuss how.”
“More hot air.” Adelina sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I’m not holding my breath.”
“Adelina, they promised,” Ezaara said. “I’m hoping we’ll leave tomorrow.” She couldn’t stand waiting any longer.
Adelina’s answering smile wasn’t as perky as before. “I thought you could wear the same blue tunic you wore when you flew the loop. That’d remind people of how much they loved you. And your green ribbons.”
The green ribbons that had made Roberto her protector when she’d unknowingly given him one.
“You’d need to wear a few layers underneath to stay warm. What do you think?”
“Yes to the ribbons, but not that tunic. They need to see me as I am today.” Ezaara picked up her hairbrush. “Why don’t you have faith in the council?”
Adelina started plaiting Ezaara’s hair. “Apart from the fact that they recently banished my brother? It’s Tonio. Ever since Roberto and I arrived here, Tonio’s hated him, and I have no idea why.”
Surely, they wouldn’t leave Roberto, a valued master, languishing with Zens. Doubt prickled across her skin.
§
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. Riona 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 snatch
ed 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.
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