“It’s been so long.” Hans embraced Giddi. “I’m sorry, you’ve lost so muc—”
“You’ve made sacrifices for the Realm yourselves,” replied Giddi gruffly, cutting him off.
That short exchange made Marlies’ throat tight again. So many losses. So much pain. So many years since they’d all worked together.
“Marlies,” Hans said, “war council has started. I don’t know how we’re going to convince the council to work with mages again, but my visions have shown me that it’s our only chance of success.”
“Believe me, said Giddi, “if we pull this off, I’m going to have the same battle with the Wizard Council.”
“Right, Hans,” she replied. “I’ll mind-meld when we’re ready for you.”
Once she was in the council chambers, Marlies took her seat, belly fluttering. “Master Lars, Hans is a little late, because he’s meeting with visitors who could help shape our battle strategy.” That should pique Aidan’s interest, but would Lars buy into it?
“Excellent,” said Lars. “They can speak after the master craftsman outlines his weapon-making plans.”
“Thank you, that would be good.”
“You hope,” quipped Liesar.
“Hope’s about all we’ve got,” Marlies replied grimly, keeping her smile intact.
Tonio’s curious gaze burrowed into her.
When the discussion about the allocation of resources for weapons was winding down, she melded, “Hans, now’s about right.”
“Good, we’ll be there soon.” A short while later, there was the thump of Handel landing, and a knock at the chamber doors.
“Let them in,” Tonio called.
A blue guard opened the double doors. Hans and Giant John walked in. Master Giddi swept through between them, cloak swirling and sparks dripping from his fingers.
Lars’ face froze.
Tonio’s face blackened. He leapt to his feet, pointing to the door with a trembling finger. “Get out!”
Giddi’s gaze grew hard. “I told you it was no use, Marlies,” he said bitterly.
“I’ve invited Master Giddi to speak to us.” Marlies inhaled deeply. “If you won’t listen, Dragons’ Hold can get another master healer.” She stalked from her seat to stand with Master Giddi. Giant John and Hans closed ranks on either side of them. Talons scraped on stone behind her. The huff of Handel’s breath warmed her neck. Judging from the expressions around the table, they looked formidable. The doors thudded shut.
“You’ve made a grave error in judgment, Marlies,” Lars snapped, glaring at her with icy eyes.
“I say we vote on it,” said Hendrick, master craftsman.
“Vote?” Tonio spat.
“A vote will be binding,” Lars pointed out. “Are we voting on dismissing Marlies as master healer? Or about casting this traitor out of our midst?”
“Traitor?” Giddi muttered, bristling.
Marlies straightened her shoulders. “Without Giddi and the Wizard Council, we won’t win this war. We’ll all be slaughtered, so there’ll be no point in having healers.”
“Or a Master of Prophecy,” Hans said. “I’ve seen a vision of the slaughter. This is our only chance.”
“You’re bluffing. You’ve pledged to serve Zaarusha.”
“We don’t want our riders to fight a losing battle,” said Marlies. “We must work together to oust Zens.”
“Wizards admitted Zens in the first place,” Tonio snarled. “Now you want us to trust them? Next you’ll be asking us to work with spangles.”
“If we must, Tonio.” Marlies stared him straight in the eye.
“No one’s seen sight of them for years,” Lars burst out.
“If I may—” started Giddi.
“No, you may not,” snapped Lars, face flushed. “You definitely may not. We’ll put it to a vote. Raise your hand if you’re prepared to listen to the wizard. Hans and Marlies may not vote, because their tenure is on the line. Marlies, Hans, if you don’t like our decision, you’ll have to step down.”
Nodding curtly, Marlies pursed her lips. Her threat would be worth it, if it swayed them. But would it?
Hans melded with her, “Shards, Marlies, we’ve only been back a moon or two and you’re risking everything.”
“I had no other nukils to throw on the table.” He’d stand beside her, no matter what.
Lars’ eyes were fierce. “This vote is binding. Raise your hand if you want to hear Marlies’ proposal.”
With Ezaara, Roberto and Master Shari’s replacement absent, two masters dead, and Hans and Marlies excluded, not all could vote.
The battle master’s hand shot up. “Think of the strategic advantage,” Aidan muttered, “if they don’t betray us.”
Derek, master of instruction, raised his arm, mumbling, “I’ve always liked magically-enhanced weapons.”
Alyssa, master of flight, spoke directly to Marlies. “I don’t like it, but I don’t want to lose our healer.”
“I ignored the evidence against Bruno and Fleur. I won’t be closed-minded again.” Hendrik put his hand up too.
“I will side with Lars and Tonio.” Master Archer Jerrick left his hands on the table. “Even though one of my dear friends is on the Wizard Council, my loyalty lies here.”
Tonio sat with his arms crossed in front of him, jaw clenched.
“I said the vote was binding. I hope I won’t regret this,” Lars said. “Mages got us into this. Without Mazyka’s headlong quest for power, we wouldn’t have Zens or those bloodthirsty tharuks destroying our realm. Our people would not be enslaved, dying by the hundreds, tortured and without hope, in the dreary hell he’s created. Such was the blessing bestowed by an errant wizard and her foolhardy master.”
A buzz of power emanated from Giddi.
Lars came around to the front of the table, face to face with Giddi. “You were our friends and we fought together, but I’m not at liberty to put the past behind me on a whim at the Wizard Council’s request. The damage has been too great.”
Head high, Giddi’s eyes flashed. “The Wizard Council do not wish to treat with you. They’re bigger fools than you are. I’m here because my friend Marlies, and Kierion, a young dragon rider, thought the realm could be saved. They’re right—the only way we’ll triumph is to fight together—but I’m not begging for your allegiance.” Giddi’s cloak swished as he strode to the door. Halfway, he spun, jabbing his finger at Tonio. “Never belittle the spangles again. You may have need of them yet.”
Raised voices sounded outside the doors, and Lovina burst inside, face flushed. “Excuse me, Masters, but I’ve seen a vision. Tharuks will kill all the wizards in the Spanglewood by nightfall, unless we stop them.” She held up a painting, showing a bloody massacre.
A shiver rippled down Marlies’ spine.
Giddi barked at Hans, “You’re still Master of Prophecy. How reliable is she?”
“She’s always been right, so far.”
Shards, if they didn’t accept the wizards, it would be all-out slaughter. “Council masters, I implore you. We have a duty to protect every citizen of Dragons’ Realm, no matter their vocation,” Marlies pleaded. “Please, we can’t let this threat go unchecked. What if tharuks were killing your family?”
A pointed gaze passed between Lars and Tonio. The spymaster nodded.
“We’ve all taken vows to protect the citizens of Dragons’ Realm, whether we like them or not.” Lars was all action. “Masters, meld with your dragons, and mobilize all dragons and riders,” he commanded. “Giddi, meld with Singlar and tell him where the wizards are. We’ll bring them to the hold.”
Thunder flashed across Giddi’s face, sending a jolt through Marlies. No one ordered the dragon mage about.
“Hurry,” said Lars. “We may not like you, but we don’t want Zens to kill the last handful of your kind.”
“The last handful?” said Giddi dryly. “There may be more of us than you think.”
Home
Torches flickered
in the downdraft of their dragons’ wingbeats as Singlar and Antonika landed on the stage near the few members of the council that remained at the hold. Lars slid from Singlar’s back and held his hand high. The main cavern was packed, but gradually, the crowd settled into silence.
“The rumors are true,” Lars said. “Tharuks have been hunting wizards in Spanglewood, so we’re taking in refugees. We’re expecting guests at any moment.”
Angry mutters rippled through the crowd.
Lars raised his voice, overriding them. “Yes, years ago, wizards brought peril into our realm. Because of them, we’re battling tharuks today. But we cannot stand aside and let Zens slaughter our people—mages or not, we’ve sworn to protect everyone.”
An older rider hollered, “It’s a mage trick. They’ll slaughter us in our sleep.”
Now, that was just ridiculous. Lars shook his head. “Wizards don’t kill riders, only tharuks.”
The man yelled back, “No, but they let in Zens, who slaughtered my parents. I say we make ’em pay.”
“Zens killed my sister’s whole family before my eyes.”
“I don’t want wizards at my hearth.”
He understood it, he really did. But despite his feelings, he had to abide by his vows and the council’s vote. Lars motioned to Tonio, who blew his horn. The deep note reverberated off the cavern walls.
Tonio stepped forward. “I understand. I, too, have lost family to Zens. But it’s Zens we want to fight, not wizards. They let him in, but they haven’t stopped fighting him since. We can’t allow them to be slaughtered right on our doorstep out of spite. And they won’t be here forever.”
An uneasy silence before a hand shot up. “How long will they stay?”
“Only as long as necessary, believe me,” Lars said, eliciting a few chuckles.
A lad called out, “Long enough for me to learn magic?”
A ripple of laughter broke out. Good, this battle was half won.
“Lars,” melded Singlar, “Seppi will be here any moment with half the blue guard.”
By the Egg! “Half the blue guard? How many mages is he bringing?”
“Some of them are still fighting. Others will be here on the morrow.”
Lars turned to Tonio. “Call the council together.”
Tonio motioned them into a huddle and Lars broke the news. “It sounds if we’ll have nearly a hundred mages turning up. The main cavern is the only place big enough to sleep them all, although they’ll need to warm it with mage flame.”
“We don’t want them getting too cozy, or they may decide to stay,” said Tonio.
“And supplies?” asked Lars. “How’s our food looking with additional mouths to feed?”
“We have plenty,” Hendrik said. “As long as they’re not here too long.”
Lars nodded. “That’s not our intention. This is temporary. Any extra bedding in the infirmary, Marlies?”
“Some. We’ll ask families to bring spare blankets and quilts.”
“Right.” Lars turned to the crowd.
People were staring at the entrances high in the cavern walls. The blue guards were arriving. Seppi led them, spiraling down. In tight formation, the ring of dragons created a powerful downdraft. Many were carrying a rider and two mages. More mage-bearing dragons followed, joining the spiral.
“Where have they all come from?” Lars asked Marlies.
“Naobia, Spanglewood and the Flatlands. We’re lucky most of them were gathered at Mage Gate for their wizard trials. Now, we can train our riders to work with them more easily.”
“Marlies.” Tonio nodded tersely. “I misjudged the situation. With these numbers, as long as there are no rogue mages, they could be an asset.”
Despite himself, Lars had to agree. Imagine all that firepower.
Talons scratched stone as dragons landed and their passengers disembarked. Most of the blue guards carried four full saddlebags, and the rearmost wizards had bedding strapped to their backs.
“I thought they’d left in a hurry,” said Lars. “How did they have time to pack?”
Marlies smiled. “I expect they used magic.”
“Well,” said Tonio, grinning, his hand drifting to his sword, “if they think they can move in permanently, I know some magic that would send them packing.”
§
It’d been ten days since Marlies had sent Ezaara to Death Valley. Ten days of her waiting up at night, worrying whether she’d sent her daughter to her death by encouraging her to chase after the young Naobian master.
Marlies had known Mazyka, and fought beside her. Understood the pain Master Giddi had gone through and why he loved her so much. She’d been brilliant. Impulsive. And loyal. Mazyka had taken a large contingent of mages through the world gate to Zens’ world to find a means of destroying Zens. She’d been trying to fix her mistake. But both councils had misunderstood and assumed she was seeking more power.
And they’d insisted Giddi lock her out forever.
She shook her head. In her eyes, that gave this council no reason to ban her daughter from loving who she wanted. But had her encouragement—and her wrath at Tonio’s hatred for Roberto—sealed Ezaara’s fate?
Liesar mind-melded, “Riona and Maazini are approaching, bringing Ezaara.”
Thank the flaming First Egg and dragon gods. “And Adelina?”
“They have her too. They’re injured, but all alive.”
She sighed in relief. They’d made it. Injuries she could heal, but she couldn’t bring anyone back from the dead.
“And Roberto?”
“Still captive.”
That poor man. How much could one person withstand? She whirled. “Hans, Leah, Tomaaz is bringing Ezaara and Adelina home. Ready the clean herb, bandages, clear-mind berries and limplock remedy.”
“I’ll make sure we have piaua on hand too. Is Ezaara all right?” Hans melded as she organized supplies with Leah.
Marlies strode to the ledge. “She’s alive. In this game, that’s what counts.”
§
Ezaara had stayed the night in the infirmary, being mollycoddled and healed by Ma, lectured by Lars and Tonio about losing the dragon queen, and soothed by Pa. Tomaaz got it. He knew there wasn’t much to celebrate—they’d left Roberto and Zaarusha behind. Jael and Fenni, the two mages, got it too. All of them were determined to return. But the council had expressly forbidden her to leave the hold. And without Zaarusha she couldn’t go anywhere.
She reached her cavern, entered and closed the door. Leaning her back against the sturdy wood, the aching hole in her chest caved in. She slid to the floor and buried her head in her hands. Was this what it meant to love? To feel the heart-wrenching agony of leaving Roberto alone in a filthy, stinking hole with a vicious enemy? What if he never came back?
Gods, what use was being Queen’s Rider without Roberto? And what was a Queen’s Rider without a queen? Where was Zaarusha? Ezaara had assumed she was back at the hold, but no one had seen her since the feast. Eleven days ago. What if Zaarusha were dead? Her chest grew tight. It was hard to breathe.
Her few days in Death Valley felt like years. Roberto had been there for weeks. And she’d thought she could rescue him. If only she’d rallied the council, done a better job of convincing—
“Ezaara,” a dragon melded, breaking into her thoughts.
A familiar voice. One she hadn’t heard for a while. “Erob? Shards, I’m so sorry, I tried, but …” Tears ran down her cheeks, salt sliding over her lips.
“Ezaara, you should bathe. You’ll want to smell sweet for Roberto.”
“Very funny.” The thought made her cry harder.
“No, Ezaara, I’m serious. Zaarusha melded and she’s bringing him home.”
Zaarusha? And Roberto? Something light and sweet unfurled in her chest. “They’re safe?”
“Yes, she’s bringing him here. I’ve already told Maazini not to go back to Death Valley. Did you want me to ask Liesar to send Marlies here?”
“No,
not yet.” Scrambling to her feet, Ezaara dashed to her bedside drawer and pulled out some healing supplies, spreading them on her bed. It might be greedy, but she wanted her first moments with Roberto alone.
A thud sounded on the ledge. A few heartbeats later, Erob’s head poked through the archway from Zaarusha’s den. He breathed over her bathtub, heating the water. “They’re going to be a while yet. You’ll feel better greeting him without the stench of tharuk in your hair.”
Ezaara threw her arms around Erob’s warm scaly neck. “Thank you.” This time, her tears were tears of gratitude.
“I’ll warn you when they reach Dragon’s Teeth.” Erob retreated to the ledge, his wingbeats sending flurries of snow through the den as he took to the sky to meet his mother and his rider.
Ezaara shut the door, abandoned her filthy riders’ garb, and sank into the warm water.
A short while later, she was combing her hair, when Zaarusha melded. “Ezaara, he’s home.” A wave of the queen’s exhaustion washed over Ezaara, making her knees falter.
“Hang on, Zaarusha, I’m coming.” She rushed outside to the ledge.
Zaarusha was descending, holding Roberto’s limp body in her talons.
A chill breeze slid along Ezaara’s damp scalp, making her shiver. “Is he dead?”
“Not quite.” Zaarusha descended, lowering Roberto toward the ledge.
Ezaara rushed over, arms out, to receive him. The queen delicately lowered him into her embrace.
Zaarusha nuzzled her neck. “Must hunt.” She flew with ragged wingbeats toward the hunting grounds.
Roberto was bloody, gaunt and bitterly cold. So unlike himself, her eyes pricked. Ezaara carried him inside and laid him on her bed. Moments later, Erob’s bulk filled the archway as he squeezed his head and a shoulder through the door. “How is he?”
The shackle marks on his wrist and ankle were raw and weepy. Ezaara cut open the sides of his ratty breeches and shirt to check his body for injuries. The old wounds she’d healed in Death Valley were overlaid with fresh gashes and bruises. An angry welt had raised a lump on his back.
“Erob, please warm this water for clean herb infusion.”
“Gladly.” Solemn-eyed, the dragon huffed his breath over the cup.
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