“You did what you had to do. Zens is responsible for tharuks, not you.” Liesar banked.
Leah pointed over Marlies’ shoulder. “Look, down there in that field.”
Two boys were jumping up and down, waving.
They circled down and landed in a snow-crusted meadow near a small house that backed onto a copse of trees. Marlies and Leah slid off Liesar, and the boys ran over to greet them. Marlies recognized them immediately—Paolo and Marco. Boisterous and always getting into scrapes, she’d healed them often.
“Marlies? Is that you?” Paolo grinned and pumped her hand.
“You look much older… or sick,” Marco said, hugging her leg.
Typical littling honesty. Their faces were gaunt too, and their eyes wary. Things hadn’t been easy for them either. “Boys, how you’ve grown. How’s your Ma and Pa?”
“Pa got cut up bad by one of them tharuk’s tusks, but he’s healing up.” Paolo thumped his fist on his chest. “I fought in a battle too, right next to your Hans.”
The Egg forbid. At nine summers, Paolo was barely out of his littling years. “I’m sure you were brave.” Marlies gestured at Leah. “This is my trainee healer, Leah. She’s an important person at Dragons’ Hold.”
The boys’ eyes grew wide and they shook Leah’s hand. “Most honored to meet you.” Paolo bowed deeply as if Leah were foreign royalty.
It was almost comical. Of course, neither of them knew that Marlies herself was Dragons’ Realm’s master healer—they’d only known her as Marlies, Hans’ wife. “And this is Liesar.”
“She’s so beautiful. May I touch her?” It was Marco that asked, but at Marlies’ nod, they both rushed forward and laid their palms on Liesar’s upheld foreleg.
The introductions over, it was time for business. “Where are the blue guards that were protecting Lush Valley? Where’s Klaus?” Marlies turned to Leah. “Klaus is the settlement arbitrator.”
“There was a big battle two weeks ago,” Paolo answered. “There was lots of smoke, and dark dragons attacked us, not pretty like yours.” Paolo waved his arms in the air, his fingers flapping like wings. “The blue guards came and drove them away from the village, that way.” He pointed eastward.
Marco blurted out, “They said the dragons killed the other dragons, but I don’t know. I hope they’re still alive.” His huge blue eyes brimmed with tears. “I like dragons.”
“But not those dark ones.” Paolo shuddered. “I hate them.”
Marlies pursed her lips, gazing at the eastern sky. So a dark dragon had been here too. More than one. She had to find out if the blue guards were still around, if there were any wounded. “How many dark dragons were there? Where did they go?” she asked, stooping to look Paolo in the eyes.
“Two.” He pointed at a high peak to the east. “They flew straight for the Horn.”
The Horn was the highest peak in the eastern range of the Grande Alps. At its foot was a densely forested area, far from any homes. A wise choice, given the damage Seppi had sustained from that dark dragon’s eyes. “Could you take me there?”
“Me? Ride a dragon?” Paolo’s eyes shone. “Of course.”
“Can I come too?” Marco bit his lip, waiting.
Marlies shook her head. She didn’t know what they’d find. He was far too young, although from the mass grave she’d seen as she flown out of the village, he might’ve already seen his share of bodies. “Liesar’s flown a long way. She’s too tired to carry four of us. Maybe she’ll give you a ride later.”
Behind her, Liesar snorted.
Marco’s eyes welled.
“Go inside, and stay safe with your Ma and Pa. Tharuks are about.” She gave him a hug. “Thank you for your help.”
With Paolo sandwiched between Marlies and Leah, Liesar took to the sky. Below them, the fields were shrugging off their winter blanket, the snow only crusting the shady edges.
“Wow, we’re up so high,” Paolo squealed. “Look! My house is like a tiny walnut in the fields.”
“That’s how I felt on my first flight.” Leah laughed, but it was nervous, brittle.
Gods, these mere littlings were facing Zens’ horrendous monsters.
“Are you all right, Liesar? We’ve flown far—you must be exhausted,” Marlies melded.
“I’m fine. We have to find them.” As tired as she might be, Liesar’s wings were still beating strongly as they headed over the forest toward the Horn.
Marlies wanted to ask her dragon not to strain herself, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The lives of dragons and riders could be at stake. Although what she’d heal them with, Marlies had no idea. First, they’d find them. Then they’d deal with getting more piaua juice.
“They went in that direction.” Paolo pointed north.
Liesar veered left.
“The trees look like little sticks. Even the mountains seem smaller,” crowed Paolo. “And Liesar’s scales are so beautiful in the sun.”
True. Liesar’s wings sparkling like diamonds had been one of Marlies’ first joys when riding her. She exhaled, trying to loosen the tension in her chest, but the tightness remained as the Horn’s peak loomed.
“There, see that? I’m going down.” Liesar dove toward a vicious slash that scarred the forest below.
“Hold on,” Marlies called.
Paolo’s grip around her waist tightened and he huddled against her back. The wind flew into Marlies’ face, water streaming from her eyes. A swathe of foliage had been crushed, trees tossed aside as if they were splinters. As they drew closer, Marlies spotted a blue dragon and rider.
Leah gasped.
Paolo shifted in the saddle and whimpered.
Liesar landed among patches of ice, broken branches and scattered foliage. Some of the trees were blackened, the tang of char making Marlies’ nostrils itch.
“Stay here.” She slid off Liesar’s saddle. Her boots crunched over smashed branches. The fight between these dragons had turned mighty tree trunks to kindling. Debris hung suspended on the surrounding treetops. Several trails, wider than houses, had been smashed through the forest.
Marlies approached the motionless blue dragon and laid her hand upon his cold hide. “Are you alive?”
Nothing.
She was too late. This blue guard was dead. But what of his rider?
She scrambled over trunks and branches, making her way around the dragon. A tree trunk had speared the dragon’s side and killed him, spilling his guts over the broken timber. His entrails were dried and cold.
Liesar let a mournful howl into Marlies’ mind. Her dragon couldn’t grieve aloud, not when the enemy might be near.
Marlies cast about and walked farther into the broken trees, keeping an eye out for the blue guard who had served with this dragon.
As she clambered over a pile of broken foliage, a boot caught her eye beneath a swath of charred leaves. She bent down and swept some leaves aside. A battered body lay beneath the pile of debris she’d been climbing.
Eyes stinging, she flung aside bark, leaves and branches to get to the body, pausing regularly, scanning the forest, keeping an eye out for anything unusual. Finally, she hefted the broken rider in her arms, staggering under his weight, and carried him back to his dragon.
“Well done,” Liesar said. “I can scent the other blue, along there.” She twitched her tail toward one of the channels smashed through the trees.
Marlies bent over, hands resting on her knees, panting. “In a moment.”
“You’re too tired,” Liesar replied. “Let me carry you.”
Marlies straightened. “No, it’s the least I can do for these valiant servants of the realm.”
Liesar crunched through broken branches, nuzzling Marlies’ shoulder. “There’s no sense in breaking yourself. You can’t save the dead, and we still need you to save the living.”
Backhanding a tear from her cheek, Marlies nodded and climbed into the saddle, the young ones scooting back to give her space. She gripped Liesar’s
spinal ridge with bloodstained hands. “Take me to the next blue guard, but beware, the dark dragons may still be lurking.”
Moments later, they found the other blue dragon and a dark dragon entwined among ruined undergrowth. The dark beast’s talons were still embedded in the blue dragon’s throat, even though in her death thrall she’d blasted the dark dragon’s face away, leaving a pale skull with gaping eye sockets.
Paolo whimpered. Leah hugged him, burying his head under her arm and pulling him against her torso so he didn’t have to see. “Do you need my help?” she asked briefly, not a tremor in her voice.
“There’s nothing we can do here,” Marlies answered.
Liesar snarled. “Oh yes there is. I scent a dark dragon, still alive.”
“Hold on, you two.”
Leah flung Paolo against Marlies’ back and they gripped her waist. Liesar tensed her haunches and sprang over some trees to land nearby.
A faint scream ricocheted through Marlies’ mind. She blocked it out, snapping mind-meld with Liesar. Seppi had warned them of the dark dragons’ anguished screams. Ahead, on the charred forest undergrowth, lay a wizened black dragon, a slumped mage dead in the saddle.
Its wings had been burnt off and its side was seared. The swathe of ruined bushes behind it showed it had crawled here to lick its wounds. The dragon raised its head and snarled, a flicker licking from its maw.
Marlies felt it battering at her mind, trying to get in.
“My head. My head hurts,” Paolo said, voice ragged.
“Sing a song in your mind,” Leah instructed. “Just keep singing. Your song will block the scream.”
With a snarl of anger, Liesar pounced on the dragon.
The dragon writhed, yellow beams springing from its eyes, scoring Liesar’s shoulder with a deep bloody gouge. With a scream of pain, Liesar snapped through its neck with her jaws, severing its head and tossing its skull far into the forest.
“Liesar, let me dismount.” There was something strange about the mage. Marlies had to take a closer look.
Sliding off Liesar, she clambered up the dead dark dragon’s scaly hide, shuddering at the feel of its strange skin under her fingers. There was something wrong, off, about this beast.
The mage was slumped over the dragon’s shoulders, splattered in black blood from Liesar’s killing strike. Marlies pulled her upright. And hurriedly dropped her. From her posture and body shape, she’d assumed the mage was a young girl, but her face was as wrinkled as an ancient woman’s. Marlies had never seen someone so old. Never known people that ancient with young supple bodies existed. Once again, something was dreadfully off.
“Let’s get out of here,” Liesar said. “I don’t like you touching that evil beast. It stinks of death and wrongness.”
Marlies climbed into the saddle. As soon as they were airborne, she asked, “Shall we give these blue guards a proper sendoff?”
“Of course,” said Liesar. She shook her mighty silver head and raised it to the sky, howling. Her keening song of loss and love and mourning for these two valiant dragons and riders rang through the deserted forest, bouncing off the mountaintops.
Landing near one of the fallen guards, Liesar opened her jaws, setting the dragon and rider alight, creating a funeral pyre fit for a king.
Montanara
Snow fell in soft damp flakes, clumping on the sidewalks and turning to mush under the gray morning sky as Kierion strode down the narrow streets in the seedy quarter of town. He stomped off his boots as he strode up the steps to the Brothers’ Arms, then pulled the heavy door open.
“Over here, young whelp,” Danion called.
At the back of the taproom was an open door, leading to the captain’s office—the Nightshaders’ headquarters. The captain, as ugly as the night before but slightly less intimidating, was pouring tea from a pot into porcelain tea cups. Sitting at the captain’s table was Danion with Gret tucked under one arm. She gazed at him as if she was a fawning lover.
Kierion nearly spluttered. He didn’t know that Gret had that in her. Hopefully, she’d tone it down by the time Fenni arrived or he’d set the whole place aflame.
Danion stretched back in his chair, arm slipping down to Gret’s back. “So, you considered my offer?”
Kierion shrugged. “I’ve come to talk it over,” he replied, sliding into a seat and stretching his long legs.
The waitress came in. He recognized her from behind the bar the night before: a tough woman, about his mother’s age, with a nose ring, and tattoos on her forearms. “Breakfast?”
“I’m fine with tea, thanks.” Kierion indicated the captain’s cups.
“More tea, Rona,” the captain called. She passed out the cups and took the teapot. The captain poured a generous slug from a hip flask into his tea, and took a long sip, his eyes appraising Kierion over his cup.
Kierion sipped his tea too.
Danion arched an eyebrow. “Well?”
Drumming his fingers on the table, Kierion said, “I’ve considered your offer. As long as I can keep my weapons…” He shot the captain a cheeky grin.
The captain, laughed, displaying half a mouthful of horrendous black teeth again. “You can keep your weapons, matey. And, as long as you obey my creed, then I’ll let you keep your fingers too.”
Danion smirked. “What do you think, boy?” He gave Gret’s shoulder an extra squeeze.
She leaned her head against his upper arm.
The door clunked shut. Without turning, Kierion sensed it was Fenni.
Boots thudded across the floor. Fenni slipped into a chair. Staring straight at the captain, he said, “I’m in.” He steepled his fingers on the table, tiny flames dancing from his fingertips.
The captain raised an eyebrow. “Need to siphon off a little power, do we?”
Fenni flashed a wolfish smile. His flames extinguished immediately. He flourished a hand, proffering flowers of green flame to the captain. “Just party tricks, sir.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but there’s no sir here. Captain is fine with me.” He turned to Gret. “My crew tell me you put up a right fight last night, girl.” He smirked, eyes flitting between Danion and Gret. “In the alley, I meant. My offer is extended to you too.”
Gret winked and nodded. “I’m keen.”
“Danion will keep you all occupied showing you the business.”
Exactly what business the Nightshaders had, Kierion wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t selling daffodils. He couldn’t help himself, blurting, “Captain, what is your business?”
The captain arched a dark eyebrow. “Buying and selling: goods, protection, herbal remedies, and lives. You name it we sell it.”
“Remedies?” Kierion blurted. That was odd.
“A lucrative little sideline.” The captain grinned. “You’ll find that all the apothecaries have gone out of business. The sick now have to come to us.”
“For a nice fee, no doubt captain.” Extortionists. They’d cornered the trade on life-giving supplies. It hadn’t been like that when Kierion had lived here. But now, folk would probably die if they couldn’t afford a cure. Not only were the captain’s teeth black—his heart was as well.
He knew he was pushing it, but Kierion’s curiosity got the better of him. “And if they can’t pay?”
“Then we trade in lives.” That black toothed grin split the captain’s face. “Welcome to the Nightshader crew.”
§
When they assembled later that morning on the edge of Great Spanglewood Forest, Kierion was surprised at how many dragon riders he recognized. Danion hadn’t been joking when he’d said he’d infiltrated the ranks of the Nightshaders—most of his men had been in the Brothers’ Arms last night. Not all at the captain’s table, of course. Some at the bar, drinking with tharuks; others playing cards at other tables or popping by for a quick ale.
“How can they stand sitting so close to tharuks, even drinking with them?” Fenni murmured. “It made my skin crawl just to be in the same tavern.
”
Kierion agreed, but he didn’t dare say so out loud.
Danion sat on his dragon before them, pulling on his gloves. “Everyone ready for flight?”
Their dragons stamping in the snow, riders pulled winter scarves around their faces, and tugged up the hoods of their cloaks against the cold. Only their eyes were visible. No wonder the Nightshaders didn’t recognize them when they were in the air.
“The Nightshaders eyes and ears have reported tharuks milling around on the streets and in the square,” Danion said. “The Nightshader crew are slinking through the city, spreading news that Zens has bred evil dragons and that they’re attacking today. They’re advising people to stay home.”
“How did you fool them into doing that?” a rider asked. “Surely if they got hurt, the Nightshaders would stand to profit?”
“I promised them free ale tonight.” Danion grinned. “And that I’d slit their throats if they breathed a word about who instructed them.”
Laughter broke out.
Danion delegated pairs of dragons to guard various points around the city perimeter, and more pairs to roam Great Spanglewood Forest. He gestured to Gret on Hagret and Kierion and Fenni on Riona, and three other riders on their dragons. “Come with me. We’ll patrol from the Southwestern perimeter of Montanara to Spanglewood.” He raised an eyebrow. “I hope you’re ready, because that’s where they’ll probably attack from.”
Dragons tensed their haunches and sprang.
Snow flaked off Riona’s flapping wings. The temperature had plummeted, so the snow was drier now, tiny flakes feathering against Kierion’s skin as they flew into swirling white. They swept toward Montanara without a sign of anything being amiss. They doubled back to Spanglewood, their dragons melding with the closest dragons.
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