When they landed near the cottage an hour later, a green guard was awaiting them. “I’ve come to check that you’re all right, my honored Queen’s Rider.”
“I was shaken, but I’m fine, thank you.”
The guard raised a questioning eyebrow at Roberto.
“The Queen’s Rider can speak for herself.” Roberto said tersely, his eyes darting to Matotoi. Amato was peeking out from under his wing. “I don’t want anyone recognizing Amato. Not yet. Not until we’ve figured out what we’re doing with him,” he melded.
“Did you capture Bruno and Simeon?” As Ezaara said Simeon’s name, his lewd glances and threats loomed in her head.
They guard grimaced. “I’m sorry, they got away.”
An ugly chill crawled over her skin.
“They what?” Roberto snapped, dark eyes flashing. He stepped up to the guard, jaw clenched and voice icy. “There were green guards at the scene. Several of them.”
“Bruno raced through the littlings, scattering their fire-sticks, deliberately setting a corner of the market alight. We were busy fighting fires and rescuing folk. Your attackers slipped through the alleyways and were lost.”
Suddenly, everything made sense to Ezaara. “You might have lost them, but they weren’t lost. They came here and ransacked our cottage. Come with me,” she said, leading the guard to their rented cottage. “Get Amato out of the way so he’s not recognized.” She opened the door. “There was food and smashed crockery everywhere. They shredded our bedding and the curtains. And they’ve stolen two of Anakisha’s precious heirlooms, which we need to fight this war against Commander Zens. If they fall into Zens’ hands, the consequences could be dire.”
If Zens got his hands on that ring, he’d have the ability to travel anywhere instantaneously. Even to Dragons’ Hold. But she kept that quiet. There was no point in informing the entire green guard troop about the ring’s purpose.
“I apologize that this has happened to you in Naobia.”
“Bruno and Simeon could strike anywhere. Whatever happens, we need to track them down and retrieve those heirlooms. Bruno is thin and wiry with brown hair and—”
“There’s no need. Queen Zaarusha has shared her memory of them with my dragon. I know what they look like—a ring and necklace, right? I’ll get someone to bring you more food and bedding. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this on your hand-fasting holiday, my honored Queen’s Rider.” He thumped his right fist on his heart and left.
When the green guard had gone, Roberto came inside.
“Where’s Amato?” Ezaara asked.
Roberto screwed his nose up. “On the latrine. Apparently those apricots we gave him had quite an effect after he’d only eaten fish and lake weed for years.” He slumped into an armchair, his head in his hands. “What are we going to do with him, Ezaara?”
She walked over and sat on the arm of the chair, stroking his dark hair. “He needs to be heard and tried. The question is whether his trial should be here or at Dragons’ Hold.”
“We’re supposed to be back tomorrow evening. We’ll never make it without the rings. Even with a healthy dragon, it’s a three-day flight. With Matotoi, it’ll take a week. Maybe we could leave his dragon here.”
“No!” The strength of her reaction surprised her. “I know. I’ve been mulling it over. Leave Amato here or take him? His crimes were against Naobia and the realm. I think he needs to come back to Dragons’ Hold, but I just can’t find a way of getting him there fast.” He sighed and stood. “I just thank the Egg that you were with me. I might have gutted him on the spot.”
“I’m glad you were there for me today, too.”
“I’m kicking myself for leaving you alone. If that louse had—”
“No.” She placed a finger on his lips. “Don’t let him intrude here.”
There was a knock at the door. Ezaara opened it to the herbalist from the marketplace. “I’ve come to bring you bedding and food,” the old lady said, eyes raking over them both. She held a large basket of goods.
“And to gather fodder for her gossip,” Ezaara added to Roberto.
He chuckled and kissed the old lady on the cheek. “Nice of you to help us, Martha. I’ve an errand to attend to.” He melded with Ezaara. “Let me know when she’s gone. She’s the last one I want to see Amato.”
“Is that you, Martha?” Amato’s voice croaked from behind the herbalist.
“Too late.”
Amato stepped into the light spilling from the door.
Martha spun. Dropped her basket. Apples rolled across the path, bouncing across Amato’s bare feet.
“By the roaring dragon gods,” Martha whispered. “You!”
“I can explain.” Amato combed his matted beard with his fingers. “I—”
“No one could ever explain your atrocities, Amato,” she snapped. “My friends and neighbors were killed, thanks to you. You—you poisonous viper!”
She thrust the quilts into Ezaara’s arms, the food into Roberto’s, and snatched up her basket. She stormed past Amato. “I hope you don’t live through the night,” she hissed, spitting on him.
Amato’s shoulders caved as he gibbered to himself, “Zens made me do it. Zens. He made do it, he did.”
Roberto glanced at Ezaara. “So much for keeping his presence secret. The whole of Naobia will know by morning.” He strode inside and plonked the food on the table. Then he manhandled Amato into the house, shoved him onto the couch, and flung a quilt on him. He walked over and locked the door. “You’re sleeping here. No leaving—or I will hunt you down and gut you.”
“Matotoi. I must have Matotoi. Sleep by Matotoi.” Amato answered, crawling over and clawing at the door.
“He can watch you through the window... now that the curtains are torn off. Get on the couch, so we can get some sleep.”
A few moments later, Matotoi appeared outside one window and Erob outside another.
Amato curled up in a tight ball on the couch and drifted into a fitful sleep.
Roberto frowned. “He could wake any time and slit our throats in our sleep.”
From outside the window, Erob melded, “Zaarusha and I will keep watch.”
Ezaara picked up one of Martha’s quilts. “You both need your strength for flying.”
“Excuse me, Ezaara,” Erob melded, “but Zaarusha and I have done nothing but rest and eat since we got here, while you two have been, um ... expending energy.”
Ezaara’s cheeks grew hotter than the Robandi desert.
Roberto huffed. “Lucky we did. We won’t have much chance for that anymore with my father around.”
Strategy
The snap of Lars’ gavel on the granite table echoed through the council chamber, making Tomaaz and Maazini twitch.
“Easy boy,” Tomaaz melded.
At least his dragon’s mental agony had ceased. The only wound Maazini had received from the encounter with the dark dragon over Spanglewood Forest was a hole on the edge of his wing. They hadn’t been caught by an arrow or sword, and it didn’t appear to be a burn hole, so Tomaaz couldn’t figure out what had caused it. He’d slapped some healing salve on it to soothe his dragon before they’d been summoned to this council meeting.
Masters Tonio, Derek and Alyssa broke off a quiet discussion in the corner and took their seats—Tonio and Alyssa on either side of Master Aidan, who was nursing a mug of peppermint tea; and Derek next to Hendrick on the opposite side of the horseshoe-shaped council table.
Lars cleared his throat and stood, his imposing figure towering over the remaining dragon masters and master mages seated at the table. With Ezaara and Roberto gone, Ma and Pa in the infirmary and Shari and Jaevin dead, there were easily enough seats for the master mages, including Jael, at Tomaaz’s side next to Giddi and Starrus.
The masters’ dragons sat along the rear wall of the cavern behind their riders, talons scratching stone as they settled onto their haunches.
“A dark dragon prowling Great Spanglewood Fores
t has attacked two of our dragons and riders,” Lars said. “This isn’t a dragon we’ve seen before. This creature hasn’t come from the brown guards over the far ranges in the north, or from the red guards posted near the northern Terramites. In fact, we don’t know where it’s from, or who has sired it. Roberto said he’d seen Zens growing black creatures that could’ve been dragons when he was captive in Death Valley. We suspect it’s one of Commander Zens’ creations.”
The council chamber erupted in a chorus of strident outbursts. Masters gesticulated. Hendrik thumped the table. Crouched at the back of the council chamber on their haunches, the masters’ dragons scratched their talons on the stone floor. Chips skittered across rock. Lars’ dragon Singlar thrashed his tail against the wall with a boom that silenced the babble.
“Thank the Egg for that,” Maazini said. “That racket was making my head ache again.”
“Are you feeling better now?” Tomaaz asked.
Maazini rumbled in assent, but the mind-frying screech they’d both heard had rattled him.
“Seppi is lying gravely injured in the infirmary,” Lars continued, “hence Marlies’ absence. With the leader of the blue guards incapacitated, I call upon Tomaaz, who was also attacked, to report.”
Tomaaz rose to his feet. “We were on a routine patrol when a dark dragon rose from the trees and flamed us. Strange yellow beams came from its eyes, but the worst thing was its mind scream. It rattled my skull like a thunderstorm in my head.” In the corner, Maazini whimpered. “It was worse for Maazini. He was clawing at his head, yowling. It took some distance and a while before he could calm himself again.”
“A mind scream?” Lars asked. “Is this some awful weapon that these dragons used against you? Are you sure it wasn’t trying to meld?”
Tomaaz shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never felt anything like it. But it definitely felt like an attack, not an attempt to meld.”
Lars turned to Tonio. “In all your experience as spymaster, have you ever come across this?”
Tonio’s dark brows furrowed. “I can’t say I have.” He steepled his hands, resting his chin on his fingertips. “It was screaming in Maazini’s mind? And yours?”
“Because I was melded with Maazini, it was agonizing. It drove everything else out of my head. When I broke meld, the screaming was quieter, but still there.”
“Hmm, an effective weapon,” Tonio said. “What was the effect on your dragon?”
“Maazini was thrashing and bucking, clawing at his head. I’ve never seen him so distressed.”
Tonio arched an eyebrow, as if Tomaaz’s short experience with dragons didn’t count for much.
True. He’d only melded with Maazini short moons ago.
Battle Master Aidan spoke up, “There’s other news from Montanara: one of the blue guards reported a fracas among the tharuks. More of them are infiltrating the city each day. We need eyes and ears on the ground there to keep us informed of what’s happening. A troop of dragons would be good too, if we can spare them.”
Tonio sighed, running a weary hand through his hair. “We need eyes and ears everywhere. Zens is producing tharuks at such a rapid rate our forces are stretched thin as it is.”
Aidan shoved his mug across the table. “We could do with an extra few hundred dragons, but we can’t breed them that fast. It takes time to grow a dragon to maturity and its useful state.”
An answering chorus of snorts came from the dragons along the back wall.
“With all due respect.” Aidan inclined his head toward them.
The heavy double doors to the council chamber opened, and Ma walked in with Pa hovering by her side, his hand on her back.
“Gods, Maazini,” Tomaaz melded, “when did Ma get those dark shadows under her eyes? She’s so thin.”
“She’s looked like that since I first met her in Death Valley,” Maazini replied.
Surely not. Why hadn’t he noticed? Had he been so busy he’d missed what was happening with his family? He nodded to himself. Yes, after a six-week stint in Death Valley, he’d been out on patrol every day and spending his spare moments with Lovina. The only time he’d visited his family’s cavern was to sleep.
Ma took her seat at the council table between Master Hendrick and Roberto’s empty one, and Pa slid into his chair next to Master Lars.
Master Giddi nodded at them. “Greetings, Marlies, Hans.”
“How’s Seppi?” asked Lars.
Ma cleared her throat. “Not well.” Deep lines bordered her mouth and eyes, lines that hadn’t been there when they’d lived in Lush Valley a few short moons ago. And she was pale. Yes, they all were—it was winter—but not like her.
“Maazini,” Tomaaz melded, “Can you please ask Liesar if Ma is sick?”
“Of course.”
Ma continued speaking, “…there’s a gash across his middle but I can’t figure out what made it. Seppi swears yellow beams of light shot from the dragon’s eyes and cut him open, but surely that’s impossible. Yet the cut was so clean, it couldn’t have been made by claws or teeth.”
Tonio’s eyebrows shot up. “Yellow beams?”
“Yes, that’s what he said, but he’s fevered, so it might be delirium.” Ma shook her head. “The worst thing is that we’ve run out of piaua juice.”
“By the dragon gods, how?” Lars thundered.
Ma turned to Lars. “It was an accident. Someone knocked the last vial and it spilled on the floor.”
Tomaaz’s hip had been shattered only weeks before, and Ma had repaired the bone with the miraculous juice and some compounds she’d had on hand then closed the wound. Without piaua, he would have bled out or remained a cripple. What would happen to the wounded riders returning from battle to be healed by his mother? A hollow ache opened in his belly. Half of his friends would be dead without piaua juice.
Tonio leaned over the table, stabbing a finger at Ma. His voice was quiet. “It was Kierion, wasn’t it, Marlies?”
Everyone froze, awaiting Ma’s answer. You could’ve heard a dragon scale drop.
The doors creaked open. Kierion stood in the doorway, his eyes sweeping the council room and the silent masters. “Oh, I’ve interrupted something, haven’t I?” He backed out of the chamber, tugging the door closed.
Tonio called, “Kierion, please come in. I have an opportunity you may be interested in.”
Kierion entered, his eyes darting toward the spymaster and away again. He stood, shoulders back and chest thrust out. “Yes, sir?”
The spymaster pushed his chair out from the table and stalked toward Kierion. “You’re from Montanara, aren’t you?”
Kierion replied with a terse nod.
Tomaaz stared at Kierion. What was going on? He was usually so full of life and exuberance. Now, he was as tense as a battle-ready dragon.
“So you’d be familiar with the city?” Tonio said sternly. “The streets and alleys? And know many Montanarians?”
Kerion nodded again, his wary eyes flitting around the room. “Yes, sir.”
“It seems we have a disturbance in Montanara. You might be the right man to figure out what’s going on.”
Kierion opened his mouth as if to protest, but Tonio shot him a meaningful glance. Kierion nodded. “Yes, sir. I’m your man.”
Tomaaz shifted in his chair. What had just passed between those two?
Kierion continued, “Actually, Master Lars and honored council members, I came here to tell you about an exciting development in training. Fenni and I have a new tactic that could help in battle.”
Derek, the training master, raised an eyebrow. “And you’ve brought this to the council now because...?”
Kierion studied the floor then raised his eyes to meet Derek’s. “Because I feel terrible about breaking the last vial of piaua.”
Gasps rippled through the room.
“Hasn’t Marlies told you?”
Ma hadn’t confirmed anything. If only Kierion had kept his mouth shut.
“Yes, Master Tonio
,” Kierion continued, “I’ll go to Montanara, but first, let me show you this technique we’ve mastered.”
Lars spoke up, “What about Gret, the Montanarian swordmaster’s daughter? Surely she could go to Montanara if there’s something to be uncovered?”
“We could send a whole troop of dragons and riders in,” Tonio said, “but that’s more likely to spark a battle than prevent one. If Kierion and Gret can casually infiltrate the city and find out what’s going on, we may have a chance of nipping any conflict in the bud before it escalates into an all-out battle.”
It sounded reasonable. But during battle, everything went haywire despite the best plans. Before tharuks had attacked Lush Valley, Tomaaz had never even seen them, but his boots were soon grimy with their dark sticky blood.
“Then it’s decided,” Lars said. “Tonio, please inform Gret that she’s traveling to Montanara tomorrow night with Kierion. After this meeting adjourns, Kierion will show us what he and Fenni have developed. Kierion, Fenni can accompany you to Montanara so you can perfect your training techniques there while you ferret out whatever’s going on. It won’t harm you to have a little mage power at your side. If you find any valuable information, get Riona to mind-meld with the closest blue guards to keep us informed.”
Master Starrus, leader of the Wizard Council, flung a hand toward Master Giddi, the dragon mage. “You know, none of this would have happened if it wasn’t for you. If you’d controlled your rutting lust for that trumped-up student of yours, Commander Zens and his tharuks wouldn’t be in Dragons’ Realm.”
The blood drained from Master Giddi’s face.
Starrus stood, face splotched red. “Years ago, I watched you strut around, flashing your power about like a littling with a new toy. Young and impressionable, Mazyka fell for you. And you were stupid enough to act on it. Thinking of your loins, not the safety of the realm, you took her to your bed and shared every last magical secret with her—despite her power—even though you were leader of the Wizard Council and should’ve known better.” Bitterness laced his words. “And when Mazyka wanted to open a world gate, I warned you, but no, no, you knew better.”
Riders of Fire Complete Series Box Set books 1-6: YA Epic Fantasy Dragon Rider Adventures Page 103
