Riders of Fire Complete Series Box Set books 1-6: YA Epic Fantasy Dragon Rider Adventures

by Eileen Mueller

  Kierion raced up behind Flashy and jabbed him in the ribs with the tip of his sword. “Scared to fight me, one on one?” He danced back, farther down the alley, into the gloom.

  “You!” Flashy chased him.

  Kierion ran, not too fast or Flashy might turn back to Fenni. Then he spun and lunged at Flashy as the thug tried not to slam into him. But Flashy twisted and Kierion’s blade sailed past his gut, missing by a hair’s breadth. Kierion jumped back and they faced each other, panting.

  Flashy attacked with a series of fast moves. Kierion parried every one of them, and lunged to strike the thug. But Flashy blocked swiftly and drove Kierion back.

  Ah, it was good to be moving, fighting, after being stuck in that stinking tavern all night. Dragon’s claws! They’d learned nothing tonight. No news of Danion. No idea what the tharuks were up to tomorrow. And he’d landed them all in trouble. Great spy he was.

  He lunged again, but Flashy ducked under his blade and spun to attack. Kierion knew that move—he’d learned it at Dragons’ Hold from Master Jaevin before the sword master had been murdered. He moved to block, but Flashy feinted, spun, then lunged again—another dragon rider technique. Kierion barely parried it. By the flaming dragon gods, he’d never have guessed. “You’re a dragon rider, aren’t you?”

  Flashy snarled, “What makes you think that?”

  Kierion ignored his answer—he could tell—and lunged again. Why hadn’t he seen it earlier? “Why are you running with the Nightshader crew?”

  “Why are you still alive?” Flashy snapped, beating Kierion’s blade aside. “Most nosy shrot-huffers don’t live to your age. Who in the Egg’s name do you think you are?”

  Flashy thrust again. Kierion beat his blade down and pressed his weight on it, keeping it down.

  “I’m just a courier,” Kierion huffed, straining to keep their swords locked. “I have some black pepper for a guy named Danion.”

  Flashy faltered, brow creased. “What?” He leaped forward, swung his blade around, knocking Kierion’s blade aside and driving him up against a wall, his sword tip at Kierion’s throat. “What did you say?” he hissed.

  “I have some black pepper for Danion.” Kierion swallowed, hoping Master Tonio’s code-word or the rider’s name hadn’t jeopardized his life.

  Flashy glanced down the alley, toward the luminous-green flare of Fenni’s mage fire, and whispered, “Come with me.”

  §

  Thank the flaming First Egg, Kierion had turned up and led away that pretty thug who’d been ogling her all night. He’d been a tricky opponent, their best fighter. At least now, with only five to oppose them, she and Fenni might have a fighting chance. She thrust her sword, ripped through a man’s cloak and scored his jerkin. Flames, it didn’t slow him down at all. She lunged again, shredding his cloak as he spun away. The heat of the mage flame at her back was unnerving, even though she usually liked the crackle of magic—alive and full of possibility. She spun, slashing a thug’s leg. He howled and crashed to the cobbles. Panting, Gret parried the blade of the huge man who stepped over him.

  From the shadows, a deep voice said, “Drop your sword or your friend dies. You, with the mage flame, put it out.”

  The luminous green glow died. Tiny flares zipped from Fenni’s fingertips, mage lights shooting into the gloom and illuminating the handsome Nightshader—who was holding Kierion at swordpoint.

  Kierion was pale, eyes wide. A trickle of blood ran down his throat.

  “I said drop the sword.”

  Gret did nothing of the sort. Instead, she sheathed it and held her hands out in front of her where he could see them. Fenni stepped to her side, his arm around her, the scent of mage fire clinging to him.

  The Nightshaders closed in, surrounding Gret and Fenni.

  “Brutus, bring the girl here at knife point.”

  There was nothing charming about the handsome man now. Gret wanted to shred his pretty face.

  Two men grabbed Fenni, who lashed and kicked, sending sparks flying into their faces.

  The huge Nightshader, Brutus, wrenched Gret’s arm up her back and shoved his blade under her chin. If she moved, her blood would gush over the cobbles.

  “Mind you don’t scratch her,” the pretty thug said. “I don’t like my women marred.” He laughed, a deep throaty sound that grated down her spine.

  “Young mage, hold your fire or your friends die.”

  Two thugs held their knives at Fenni’s ribs. He winced.

  “You lot, over there, hold this whelp fast.”

  Another thug gripped Kierion, and the pretty one let go of him. He took the knife from Brutus, the pressure never easing off Gret’s throat, and kept her arm pinned firmly up her back.

  “It was mighty suspicious, three of you turning up tonight,” he purred. “But don’t worry, with a little persuasion, this beauty will soon explain everything,” His breath brushed Gret’s ear, making her shudder. “If you two want to see her alive again, get out of here. When I’ve had my fill, she’ll be back here at dawn, waiting for you.” He sneered at Fenni, laughing in his face. “Then we’ll see if you still want her.”

  Fenni’s eyes were wide. Hands trembling. Gret sensed his coiled power, waiting to erupt.

  He subtly moved one of his fingers, but a thug pressed his knife harder into his side. “Want your guts on the ground, now, lover boy?”

  “No, Fenni.” Gret’s voice cracked. She swallowed. Gods, what would to happen to her? Her legs shook like a sapling in a storm. It wasn’t hard to tell what the man wanted, but this way, they’d all live, at least for now. “It’s for the best, do what he says.”

  Sparks dripped from Fenni’s hands. He glared at the man holding her, but didn’t make a move.

  The thugs released her friends. Kierion yanked Fenni’s arm. “Come on, Fenni.”

  Fenni’s gazed at her as the Nightshader dragged her in the other direction.

  The other four Nightshaders guffawed into the hollow dark, the injured man groaning in the snow-strewn gutter.

  “Hurry up,” Flashy barked at Gret.

  He pulled her down a narrow, twisting alley. A rat scarpered across her foot, making her wince—although rats were the least of her worries. Cold prickles broke out over her skin as he led her down alley after winding alley. When she was thoroughly lost, he lowered the knife from her throat to her ribs.

  “Open that door.” He gestured at a narrow wooden door half hidden in the gloom of an alcove.

  Her hand twitched toward her sword.

  “Nothing stupid. We don’t want you to die here in this little alley. You’d like to live when I’ve finished with you, wouldn’t you?” His laugh echoed through her bones, rattling her pounding heart.

  §

  Fenni caught one last glimpse of Gret’s pale stoic face. Her beautiful face. What had he done? He should’ve whisked her off to safety, not been cocky about his own power. He should have known that although he was a mage, his friends were not—enemies could always get to him through them. He should have burned the handsome face right off the thug’s neck. Now, the arrogant thug would—

  “You’re not thinking of following them are you?” a dangerously soft voice crooned in the dark.

  Fenni snapped his gaze to the Nightshaders. Four were advancing, blades flashing.

  “Come on!” Kierion snapped. “Gret saved our lives. Let’s get out of here.” Kierion bolted up the alley toward the street.

  With one last glance at the alley, Fenni threw up a wall of flame and ran hard on Kierion’s heels.

  The Nightshaders ran after them.

  They were running away from Gret. Running like cowards.

  Gret was braver than him. He wasn’t even trying to save her. Flames leaped from his fingers. He whirled. “I’m going back for her.”

  “No!” Kierion grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against a wall. He whipped his blade up to Fenni’s throat.

  What in the dragon gods’ name?

  “Do
n’t argue,” Kierion said. “Now is not the time.”

  “How can you be so callous? How can you just let them take Gret?”

  “We had no choice. Our skins or her virtue?”

  What a choice—the virtue of the woman he loved or his life and the life of his best friend. Flame Kierion. To hell with Kierion. He should’ve let him die—and run with Gret instead.

  Actually, there hadn’t been a choice. The slimy thug had made it for them.

  Footsteps hammered down the alley.

  “Hurry or they’ll find out.” Kierion broken into a run, counting the side streets under his breath, and ducked into an alley.

  Fenni stumbled along behind him, hands numb and feet as heavy as stone. Find out what?

  Ahead, Kierion was still counting. He paused at another side street, frantically gesturing. “Quick,” he whispered. “Down here.”

  §

  The pretty thug dragged Gret up steep dingy stairs. On each landing, eyes stared through peepholes in doors. Gret panted up the steps. Her hands were slick with sweat. A single candle spluttered on the third landing. The moment he let go, she’d grab her sword. The cur kicked open a door and shoved her inside. “Strip off and get on the bed,” he yelled, and kicked the door shut.

  The creep leaned against the door and gave her what he must’ve thought was a winsome smile. The candle on the bedside table in the shabby little room made his teeth gleam.

  Gret fumbled with the top button of her jerkin, stalling.

  “It’s all right,” he whispered. “You don’t have to take off your clothes.” He darted to the window and peeked out a chink in the curtain. “Your friends will be here soon.”

  Hands still clammy, Gret let go the button. “W-what?” Were the other thugs bringing Kierion and Fenni to watch this man ravage her?

  The fool had turned his back on her to look out the window. Stealthily, she grasped the pommel of her sword and drew it from its scabbard.

  Before she could take a breath, he whirled, knives in his hands.

  “I should introduce myself. I’m Danion, Tonio’s dragon corps man here on the ground in Montanara.”

  “What?” She gripped her sword—although she had no chance against his throwing knives in such close quarters. If she could roll…

  He chuckled. “You said that already. I’m sorry. Forgive me for giving you a fright. If I hadn’t put on such a good act, the Nightshaders would’ve gutted your friends and dragged you off down the alley.” He shrugged and tucked his knives back into their sheaths at his belt. “Better me than them.”

  “You sharding idiot!” Gret sheathed her sword. “You scared the living daylights out of me.”

  Danion glanced out of the curtains again. “Here come your friends.”

  Sure enough, stairs creaked outside the room, the soft thud of boots heralding someone’s approach.

  Danion cracked the door open and quickly ushered Fenni and Kierion inside.

  Fenni rushed over to Gret, grasping her face in his hot hands and gazed into her eyes. “Are you all right?”

  She shuddered, breath hissing out of her. “Yes, I’m all right.”

  He pulled her into his arms, warmth surging over her.

  Danion shook his thick curls. He nodded at Gret. “My apologies again. This is a risky game we’re in.”

  Fenni released Gret, stood legs apart, hands at the ready, as if he was in a mage duel. He glared at Danion, eyes simmering with rage.

  “It’s all right, Fenni,” Gret said.

  Danion ignored him. “Now, let’s get down to business.”

  Lush Valley

  The Western Grande Alps lay before Marlies, Liesar and Leah, glistening in the sun like peaks of beaten egg white. Beyond those alps was Western Settlement, where Marlies had recently stayed at Nick’s inn. In a few hours they’d be at Lush Valley—her home while she and Hans had raised the twins.

  “What’s the next one?” Leah asked.

  “Huh? Oh.” She’d been drilling Leah on herbal remedies until they’d seen the breathtaking alps. “Tell me the remedy for dragon’s bane?”

  “Rubaka leaves, ground into a fine green powder.”

  “Excellent.” Marlies pulled some slim green leaves from her healer’s pouch and passed them back to Leah.

  “I think that’s woozy weed,” the girl said.

  “And how would you administer it?” Marlies asked.

  “I’d steep the leaves in hot water to make a tea and feed it to someone who needed sleep.”

  Not bad for a trainee healer. “What else could you use it for?”

  “I saw you give woozy weed to Sofia when you cut that crystal from her shoulder.”

  Marlies chuckled. “Your memory serves you well. Once, a friend of mine in Western Settlement slipped woozy weed into some tharuks’ beer so I could escape from his inn.” Marlies turned to wink at Leah. “There are many applications for a good remedy.”

  Leah laughed.

  Uneasy, Marlies forced a laugh too. What would they find when they reached Lush Valley? Hopefully, the settlement would be peaceful.

  “Pass me another,” Leah called, handing back the woozy weed to Marlies.

  Marlies tucked it back in her pouch and passed her some pointed juicy leaves.

  Her reply was instantaneous. “That’s koromiko, good for belly gripes. Too easy. Give me a hard one.”

  Marlies tucked the koromiko back in her pouch. “I’m afraid you’ve identified every herb and remedy I have with me. We’ll need to find some more.” If she was to train this girl to replace her as master healer at Dragons’ Hold, she needed to impart her knowledge now, before it was too late.

  She kicked herself. She’d never been this macabre before, never brooded over death or illness. She’d always been fit and healthy. Perhaps she was over dramatizing her exhaustion.

  She shook her head. No, she’d seen similar tiredness in people with the wasting sickness—especially her best friend Alena who’d died when Marlies was young and still living in Montanara.

  Liesar soared over the Western Grande Alps, Marlies’ heart skipping a beat. It was home—well, for the past eighteen years it had been.

  Something was moving down between the snowy peaks. By the First Egg, a steady stream of tharuks were making their way over the Western pass.

  “I can smell them from here,” Liesar melded. “Those stinking monsters leave an offensive reek, a stain on our landscape.”

  “I can’t smell them, but I agree we’d be better off without them.”

  The excitement she’d felt dissipated. Blue guards had been stationed here to keep the beasts at bay. Had something failed? “Press on, Liesar. Hurry to Lush Valley Settlement.”

  They swooped down the eastern side of the mountain range. Western Settlement was a black smudge on the snow. Dirty piles of rubble and charred ruins were all that was left. She hoped Nick escaped in time. Had she brought this upon him by staying at his inn when she’d fled Lush Valley? She swallowed. The cost of war was too high. Too many innocent people were slaughtered. The cost of her own actions was the lives of innocent people.

  Leah’s grip on her waist tightened. The girl asked, “What was here?”

  “That was Western Settlement.”

  Leah’s hands clutched the fabric of Marlies’ jerkin. “And Lush Valley Settlement?”

  Marlies gazed across the meadows and out over the forest. Her breath gusted out of her. There was no smoke above Lush Valley Settlement. “We’ll be there in a couple of hours, but first, let’s take a look and see if there’s anyone we can help here.”

  Liesar furled her wings, swooping down to the ruined township. At the foot of the Western Grande Alps, on the outskirts of town was Nick’s inn. Marlies wrinkled her nose. The stench of rot hung over charred buildings, wagons, scorched grass and strewn dead horses, villagers and tharuks.

  They swooped across the settlement. Not a live soul was to be seen. “There are no embers, no smoke. This happened quite some time a
go,” Marlies said, throat tight with grief.

  The silver dragon angled her neck, nostrils flaring. “Dragons set this town alight, but I don’t recognize their scent.” She glanced from side to side. “They’re long gone now.”

  “Then let’s get to Lush Valley. There is no time to waste.” Gods, hopefully she wasn’t too late.

  §

  Liesar rose into the sky, and winged across the forest.

  “Tell me more,” Leah asked, her voice shaky.

  Marlies had forgotten. Leah had lost her parents when tharuks had attacked her village. She squeezed the girl’s hand, tugging it tighter around her waist, at a loss for how to comfort her.

  Three hours later, as they neared Lush Valley, Marlies straightened in the saddle. Everything looked peaceful from above, but as they flew over the village square, she knew something was amiss. Tharuks were milling around the square, strolling between the stalls in the market, stationed in the shadows and under the eaves of the buildings. Usually the square was humming on market day, but only a few stragglers were out. Not that Marlies blamed them with these beady-eyed monsters breathing their foul stench down everyone’s necks.

  “I guess you’re no longer keen to land in the village square?” Liesar asked.

  “You’re right about that. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite for Lush Valley delicacies. Head out along the northern trail toward our old farm.”

  Liesar swooped over the buildings and flew north over cottages, farms and snow-speckled fields toward Hans and Marlies’ old home. A short way out of town, there was a huge plot of freshly-turned earth in the snow-edged cemetery—a mass grave. Marlies’ hands clenched the saddle. Only a few short moons ago, citizens of Lush Valley hadn’t tolerated dragons, or even been sure they existed. They’d thought tharuks were just rumors from beyond the Grande Alps. For years, Lush Valley had been isolated from the outside world.

  Not anymore.

  Eighteen years ago, Marlies fled Dragons’ Hold after killing Zaarusha’s dragonet and settled in Lush Valley with Hans, unwittingly putting the settlement in danger. In hindsight, she should have realized that Zaarusha’s dying dragonet had blessed Marlies’ twins with special talents. Ezaara’s ability to meld with every dragon had definitely come from the tiny purple dragonet. And the compassion the creature had shown her—by blessing Marlies with its last breath—was a trait that Tomaaz had inherited. Even as a littling, he’d constantly brought home wounded creatures and stray waifs that needed feeding. Was it any wonder Zaarusha had come here seeking Ezaara as her new Queen’s Rider? Zaarusha’s imprinting with Ezaara had drawn tharuks to this secluded valley. So, by settling here, Marlies had endangered them all.