Giddi had gone deathly still. Too still, like a viper about to strike.
“She had her way with you,” Starrus continued, stabbing a finger at Giddi. “She used you and broke our realm forever.” Spittle flew from Starrus’ mouth, spraying his snowy beard. “As long as I’m the head of the Wizard Council, I’ll never ever forgive you.”
Giddi’s eyes tracked Starrus’ every movement, but the most powerful mage in the realm said nothing.
The two mages stared at each other, tension crackling between their locked eyes.
The hum of magic made Tomaaz’s scalp prickle.
“Well, thanks for the history lesson, but we need to get on with strategy,” Lars said dryly.
Nervous chuckles rippled around the room.
“History?” Master Giddi snapped. “I hardly say his account has historical accuracy.” Giddi barked a brittle laugh, but didn’t break his glare at Starrus’, staring at him until the leader dropped his eyes to his hands—as if they held the secrets to saving the realm.
Lars smacked his gavel on the table. “Now, to the next matter. How will we replenish the piaua juice? As the only tree speaker among us, Marlies must inform us.”
Ma rose to her feet, gripping the tabletop. “The closest piaua tree is in Great Spanglewood Forest near Master Giddi’s cabin; however, when tharuks rampaged through Spanglewood, they destroyed that source. I propose that I visit the piaua tree in Lush Valley and take Leah with me to train her as the next tree speaker for Dragons’ Hold.”
“No!” Pa’s retort shot across the room, echoing on the stone, leaving the masters stunned and Master Alyssa open-mouthed.
Lars raised an eyebrow. “That’s rather strong sentiment from you, Hans.”
“Marlies hasn’t been herself since Death Valley,” Pa replied. “She’s unwell, exhausted, and hasn’t recovered yet. I beg you keep her here. Please, for her own good.”
Lars scratched his blond beard, the rasp grating on Tomaaz’s ears.
Oh, gods, even Pa knew.
Tomaaz felt terrible because he hadn’t noticed.
Lars addressed Ma, “Marlies, the future of the realm weighs heavily upon us. What are our chances of healing our wounded without piaua juice?”
Ma’s hand shook as she tucked her dark hair behind her ear. “Our chances are greatly reduced. Without being able to instantly heal riders’ wounds, the risk of infection is high. We’ll face more amputations, fevers, and we will lose many, perhaps up to a third or half of our wounded. I personally don’t want to risk losing that many of my friends.”
Pa’s voice was hoarse. “Even at the risk of us losing you?”
“I told you, I’m fine, Hans. I’ll pack my things, prepare Leah, and leave tomorrow.” Ma sat again, landing heavily on her chair.
Her legs had been about to give out. She hardly had strength to stand. No, this couldn’t be happening to Ma. She’d been so vibrant and full of life. Stricken, Tomaaz’s eyes met Pa’s.
Pa gave him a grim nod, his green eyes heavy.
“That’s settled then.” Lars tapped his gavel on the granite. “We’ll adjourn to watch Kierion and Fenni from the ledge.”
Tomaaz and Pa hung back, waiting silently for Ma, while everyone else filed out, sensing their need to be alone as a family.
“Does Ezaara know how sick you are, Ma?” Tomaaz asked, taking her cool hand in his.
Ma forced a cheery smile. “She knows I’m tired.”
Tomaaz squeezed her hand. “This is not just tired, is it, Ma? You’re ill. You haven’t recovered, and you may not.”
Tears glimmered silver in Ma’s eyes. “I have to do what’s best for the realm. I destroyed so much, years ago. Now I have to—”
Hans stood abruptly. “Now you’re going to destroy yourself to try and pay Zaarusha back?” He paced the floor behind the empty chairs, his boots drumming an angry tattoo into the rock. “No one is expecting you to do this. You can’t.”
Ma stared at Pa in that way of hers, her turquoise eyes piercing his bright green ones—until he looked away.
Finally she spoke, “I’m leaving tomorrow morning at dawn.”
Training
A cool trickle of sweat slithered down Kierion’s back. Behind him, all the masters and master mages of the realm were gathered. Hopefully he could prove himself. And clear his name. Surely they’d be impressed by his latest trick?
Fenni waited in Riona’s saddle, eyeing the masters as Kierion approached and climbed into the saddle behind him. Fenni whispered, “I hope this doesn’t muck things up even more.”
Kierion pasted a grin on his face, turned to the assembled throng and spoke with confidence he didn’t feel. “This new trick could be vital in battle. Tomaaz has told us of the formidable dark dragon who injured Seppi and frazzled Maazini’s nerves. It attacked using mental assault, fire, and strange rays from its eyes. One of the best ways to outwit this type of dragon may be to sneak up on it from the rear.”
The stony-faced gazes of the dragon masters did nothing to bolster his confidence.
Lars said dryly, “Let’s see what new tactics you’ve come up with this time.”
Master Jerrick, next to him, nodded.
“Well, here goes.” Kierion melded with Riona.
She unfurled her wings, took a running leap and tensed her haunches, soaring off the ledge. Kierion’s usual thrill at being airborne was replaced with a rash of chilly goosebumps across his back. They’d only practiced an hour. What if things went wrong and he plunged to his death?
From a nearby ledge, Linaia sprang into the air, racing toward Riona, gusting fire.
“Steady, girl.” Kierion melded. He slipped off the saddle and slithered backward, careful to slide around her spinal ridges and not impale himself. Yikes, if he messed this up in battle, he’d ruin his chances of ever having littlings. Soon he was at the base of Riona’s back. She flew behind Linaia. The trees and snowy clearing beckoned below, teasing him, promising sure death should he slip and lose his grasp. Hands slicked with sweat, Kierion wormed his way down her tail. “Am I too heavy?”
“No,” replied Riona. “Slide down a little farther.”
Kierion scooted over two more of her tiny tail spines and hooked his legs around her tail to hold on. Beaded with sweat, his scalp and forehead prickled in the cool breeze. “Now, Riona, or I’m going to lose my nerve.”
“You had plenty of nerve while we were practicing,” she replied.
“I know. But I’m surprised you can even carry me with the council glaring down at us. I’m sure I must be half a dragon-weight heavier than usual.”
She gave a dragonly chuckle and edged closer to Linaia.
Linaia blasted flame at an imaginary enemy, just as they’d practiced. Riona swept down behind her and flicked her tail launching Kierion through the air.
Snow and a blur of trees flew past beneath him. Gods, was he going to fall short? He flailed his arms and wheeled his legs.
He had to keep calm, stay focused. He slammed into Linaia’s sky-blue scales, grabbed one of her spinal ridges and hoisted himself up onto her back. Kierion drew his sword, and held it at Adelina’s throat. “Surrender and call off your dragon,” he crowed.
Singlar, Lars’ dragon, gave a mighty roar that sent a chunk of loose snow ricocheting down the mountainside.
“We’re wanted urgently back up on the ledge,” Riona melded.
Kierion leaned forward to Adelina. “Are you all right?”
“Of course I am,” she said. “But I don’t like the way the masters are looking at you.”
Oh well, he’d tried. He had nothing else to offer. Only his daring, his head for heights and his crazy ideas. Kierion sighed, using the opportunity to slip his arms around Adelina’s waist while Linaia took them back to the ledge. That was the other thing: how was he going to get to know her better if he was stationed in Montanara? They landed on the ledge alongside Riona and Fenni.
Lars’ expression could have melted the icy peaks of D
ragon’s Teeth. Kierion dismounted and stood, knees trembling, before the council. Adelina and Fenni came to stand on either side of him.
Master Jerrick was shaking his head, Master Derek was frowning, and Master Tonio had his eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him. The spymaster’s gaze made Kierion feel like he was wearing clothes of glass—naked, vulnerable.
He glanced to Master Lars. But there was no sympathy there. His face was a thundercloud.
“Kierion,” the leader of the council said, “you’re wasting your time. And ours. Any dragon worth its talons would have blasted you from the sky before you got close enough to land on its back. Dragons don’t fly steady in battle. They swoop and turn and whirl. That party trick of yours will never be useful. Your high jinks are nothing but fancy acrobatics, designed to show off your dexterity and foolishness. They have no application in battle.”
Although he felt as if the weight of Dragons’ Realm had settled upon him, Kierion refused to bow his shoulders or slump. They had a new enemy to confront. They needed new tactics, and if this wasn’t the one, he’d find another. He’d ruined the hold’s last piaua supply. There had to be something he could do to fix things. “In all fairness, sir, I’ve only had an hour’s practice. We haven’t had a chance to gauge how we’d implement this in battle.”
Adelina squeezed his hand.
“Do you think I want my riders falling to their deaths because of some harebrained scheme? Not only have you spilled our last drops of precious piaua, but you’ve also wasted our time. I expect more of you. Much more.” Lars shook his head and turned away. “This meeting is adjourned.”
The sky was filled with churning wings as masters clambered upon their dragons and took to the sky. Only Master Giddi—the dragon mage—and Master Tonio remained behind.
“I can wait,” said Master Giddi wandering to the far end of the ledge with Adelina and Fenni to give Tonio time to speak to Kierion privately.
Kierion knew what Tonio wanted.
“I’m glad to see you remembered our deal,” the Naobian spymaster said, rubbing his hands together.
How could Kierion forget? Master Tonio had caught him sneaking off to consort with mages in Great Spanglewood Forest when dealing with mages had been expressly forbidden. He hadn’t reported Kierion but had warned him he’d demand a favor in repayment. Being stationed in Montanara wasn’t what he’d imagined, but then again he hadn’t really imagined anything. The spymaster was too full of surprises. Kierion nodded.
“Good. Get packed and be ready to leave immediately.”
Kierion swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
As Tonio stalked off, Master Giddi approached. Riona shifted impatiently, the snow squeaking under her weight.
Adelina turned to Kierion and Fenni. “What now?”
Kierion shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Mirth in his eyes, Master Giddi chuckled. “Well, that was quite a feat, young Kierion. I wonder what you’ll have up your sleeve next?”
Kierion kicked a lump of snow off the edge and gazed out over the forest and the lake, shining silver in the sun. Some great day this had turned out to be.
§
Giddi stretched a kink out of his back, watching the mages and trainee riders. A red dragon zipped through the main cavern, Nadira leaning low over the dragon’s spinal ridges as she threw a knife at a target. Tylishia, the mage behind her, flung her hands up and shot a firebolt at the cavern wall.
Master Giddi nodded in approval at the dark scar on the stone. As the dragon swooped, he called, “Good shot, Tylishia. Next time, lean out a little farther or you’re going to singe Nadira’s hair.”
A titter ran through the gathered riders and mages perched upon dragons behind him. Slowly, Master Giddi turned. One glare, and they were quiet. He flicked a hand, and the next dragon, a green, took off from the stage. This time, the rider used a bow, loosing an arrow. Once again, the mage didn’t lean out far enough.
“Really lean out of your saddle, Arturo. The moment you feel you’re going to fall is when you’ve got it right.”
The next pair mastered it. They passed overhead to cheers echoing through the cavern.
Giddi nodded to himself. Yes, after years of separation, dragon riders and mages were finally bonding again. Despite his impatience, it had been a scant week since wizards had retreated from Spanglewood Forest to Dragons’ Hold. The forest had been swarming with tharuks seeking vengeance for the damage Kierion and Fenni had wreaked when they’d rescued Ezaara and Adelina from Death Valley. Dragon Riders had had no choice but to take all the mages in.
No, it wasn’t the way it’d been in his heyday.
Master Starrus, leader of the Wizard Council, strode into the cavern. The students stiffened, eyes flitting and terse whispers rustling against stone like crisp autumn leaves. Starrus swaggered to the stage and stood next to Giddi, smiling condescendingly. “Morning, Giddi, how are my trainees doing today?”
His? As if he ever put time into training them. Giddi kept a cool exterior, fighting the urge to grind his teeth. Every day that Starrus crowed over him was a day too long, but it’d been that way since he’d stepped down and given his reign to the lesser wizard. He’d had his reasons. Good ones.
Giddi raised himself on his toes, craning to see past the dragons and trainees. Now, where were Kierion and young Fenni? Come to think of it, Master Jael was missing with Tomaaz, too. He refrained from shaking his head. Those four had been riding together longer than the other riders and mages, although only by a couple of scant weeks. They’d already experienced battle, fighting tharuks in Great Spanglewood Forest—working together although riders dealing with mages had been forbidden. Master Jael, from Naobia, was levelheaded and experienced enough to keep them out of trouble—hopefully. Kierion’s exuberance was difficult to contain.
Oh, Giddi missed his days of riding dragons. He melded with a brown. “Are you ready?”
“I am,” the brown replied. “But this mage won’t sit still in the saddle.”
“Give her time, she’ll settle. She’s a good student.”
The brown leaped into the air and both rider and mage executed perfect shots, the mage leaning right over to clear the rider’s shoulders. Finally, someone was listening.
Starrus yelled, “That is exactly how you don’t fight.” He spun to address the gathered trainees. “Young mages, don’t lean so far, or you may fall off. A little mage flame won’t hurt a rider.”
There it was: Starrus was the epitome of everything stupid, often making decisions that went against common sense. These mages would not fall. Their innate sense of timing and their ability to sense their environment and understand sathir—the ebb and flow of energy—would prevent that. But as usual, Starrus was like a mother hen, clucking around, not allowing any of them to explore their power, to train the autonomy and the senses they’d need to survive in battle.
Shaking his head, Giddi silently departed.
§
Tonio paced at the front of the small training cavern, addressing Kierion, Fenni and Gret. They sat in chairs, listening as the spymaster drove home every point, his blunt finger spearing toward them.
“And you, Kierion.” There was that finger again. “Learn not to be so impulsive. Granted, your impulsiveness has led to some good changes here at Dragons’ Hold, but it could have easily gone the other way. If you have any bright ideas, consult with me first.”
Well, that would be a little hard with Master Tonio back here at Dragons’ Hold and Kierion in Montanara.
The finger stabbed toward Gret, who flicked a long blonde braid over her shoulder as Tonio addressed her. “As the Montanarian swordmaster’s daughter, you’ll be recognized. You’ll need to maintain the facade that you’re visiting family to lend support to your father.”
Gret shrugged. “Excuse me, Master Tonio, but it’s not as if my father needs support.”
“You’re all too young and arrogant.” He shook his head. “We’re a step ahead of you. I’ve sent messenger bir
ds to Montanara. Your father is currently circulating the news that he needs an another assistant to help train more warriors. You now have the perfect excuse for a family visit. Anything else?”
Kierion would have shriveled under that glare, but Gret just answered, “Excellent, Master Tonio.”
“Your dragons will leave you in Great Spanglewood Forest and patrol the area for tharuks. Once you arrive, you’ll be visiting family for a few weeks. Kierion, your father needs your help on the farm.”
“Thanks for organizing that, sir.” Kierion stifled the urge to groan. He’d tried to get out of farm work for half his life—and now that he was a dragon rider, he was heading back to it.
“You’ll leave your riders’ garb in your dragons’ saddlebags and wear Montanarian clothing. Master Hendrick has clothing and supplies for your trip.”
Tonio strode to a desk with a map laid on it. “Tharuk numbers are swelling in Spanglewood Forest. They also seem to be staying here, here and here.” He jabbed his finger at the stables on the west side of town, the Brothers’ Arms tavern, and another stable south of town. “As you can see, they’ve formed a crude perimeter at the city’s main entry and exit points, and are using Nightshade Alley to connect with the seedier side of Montanarian life. So far, we have no idea what they’re planning.”
His keen eyes pierced Kierion. “Kierion, when you get there, I want you to contact Danion, head of my dragon corps operation in Montanara. Whatever you do, don’t act without speaking to him. Via the blue guards’ mind-melding with each other, we have a chain of command that reaches all the way back here to Dragons’ Hold.”
So that was how dragon corps spies kept in touch with one another and obtained Tonio’s sanction on their activities.
“Sir, does this mind-melding network extend across the whole of Dragons’ Realm?”
Tonio huffed. “You only need to know what’s necessary to complete your given task.”
Heat flowed to his cheeks. Kierion wished he wouldn’t blush so easily.
As if he could read his mind, Tonio said, “If you keep blushing like a strawberry, it’ll give you away every time you lie. No good when you’re eyes and ears for dragon corps.”
Riders of Fire Complete Series Box Set books 1-6: YA Epic Fantasy Dragon Rider Adventures Page 104
