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

by Eileen Mueller

  Maazini whimpered, tail thrashing.

  Oh gods. Letting out a sob, Tomaaz cut more shreds from his shirt to staunch Maazini’s bleeding. He wadded the rags, shoving them into Maazini’s wound. But they soon became sodden with blood. He ripped more strips, until he barely had any shirt left. Shards, he had to get help. Tears pricked Tomaaz’s eyes as he beheld his beloved friend, bleeding in a trembling heap. His throat tightened. “Maazini, I’m sorry.”

  “You had to hurt me to help me.” Maazini shuddered. “I’m sorry too. I turned on you, Tomaaz.”

  “It’s not your fault. Commander Zens did this.” Tomaaz rubbed his flank.

  “Thank you for not doubting me.”

  “You would have done the same for me.” Breathing labored, Maazini stayed slumped on the floor.

  Tomaaz snatched up a blood-soaked cloth, turning it over in his hands. Shards, there was no piaua juice to magically heal Maazini’s wound. He’d fetch clean herb from the infirmary to purge the infection and bandages to bind up his dragon’s neck. He sneaked out of the cell and eased the door closed so the guards wouldn’t suspect anything, then rushed down the corridor.

  Amato was at the door of the next cell. His skinny arm protruded between the bars and he pointed at Tomaaz’s bloodstained hands. “Did you dig out the methimium?” A shudder ran through the man’s bones, making him look like the fish skeletons that littlings shook at winter solstice. “When my dragon Matotoi took my crystal out, my wound was infected. I was sick for days. But he fetched lake weed and put it on my wound. It drew the infection out and healed me.” Amato shrugged, his shoulder bones jabbing his ragged shirt. “Up to you if you try it or not. Without it, I would’ve died.”

  Tomaaz swallowed. “Thanks.”

  “I heard what he said,” Maazini melded. “I’ve asked Ajeurina to help. She and Lovina will meet you on the ledge outside the main cavern.”

  “I’m onto it.” Tomaaz raced through the tunnels and up the winding stairs into the main network of tunnels that riddled the mountains at Dragons’ Hold. He dashed into the main cavern. Thank the dragon gods it was deserted, apart from a lone mage shooting at targets. The mage gawked at Tomaaz’s bloodstained hands as he rushed past, but Tomaaz didn’t stop to explain. He only had an hour until dawn, when guards would arrive to execute Maazini. Shards, they could even come early.

  He burst onto the ledge, ragged bits of his shirt trailing out from his jerkin. Ajeurina was there, green scales glimmering in the starlight. Lovina reached down and helped pull Tomaaz into the saddle. “What happened? Ajeurina told me Maazini’s himself again.”

  Ajeurina flexed her haunches, spread her wings and they were airborne, a chilly wind nipping at Tomaaz’s sweat-soaked neck. “I got the crystal out, but his wound’s infected. Apparently, lake weed will help.” His breath rushed out of him. “It was touch and go. For a moment I thought he’d kill me.”

  Lovina tugged his arms tighter around her waist and squeezed his hands. Tomaaz rested his chin on her shoulder and nuzzled her neck as they flew over the stony clearing below the caverns and across the fields toward the lake. The worst was passed, but this wasn’t over yet. Unless they got back to Maazini before the executioner, things could go terribly wrong.

  Dark fields whipped by beneath them and soon they were over the forest.

  Lovina spoke. “Ajeurina says she knows what it’s like to be turned, because Fleur used swayweed on her. She’s flying her fastest to help Maazini.”

  “Please thank her.” Even though they covered ground with every heartbeat, the moments dragged. Tomaaz gauged the night sky. Soon dawn would come. They had to get back.

  They landed on a snowy bank by the lake. Tomaaz kicked a thin layer of ice around the edge of the lake, smashing a hole, and reached his hand into the freezing water. His fingers instantly went numb. He floundered around, trying to grasp the lake weed. “The weed’s too deep.” Tomaaz yanked off his jerkin and rolled up his sleeves. Beneath the remnants of his tattered shirt, the sweat on his back turned icy, making him shiver. He smashed more ice and waded into the lake until the water was just below his boot tops. Plunging his arm into the lake, he grabbed fistfuls of the lake weed, and tossed them to Lovina. She caught them and stuffed them into Ajeurina’s saddlebags.

  “I think that’s enough,” Lovina called. “We can always come back for more later. Look.” She pointed at the predawn gray creeping across the peaks of Dragon’s Teeth, the ring of mountains protecting Dragons’ Hold.

  Tomaaz rushed back to the shore. “Hurry. We don’t have long.”

  “I know, but we’re not flying until you put this on,” Lovina said fiercely, thrusting his jerkin at him and clambering into the saddle. “I’m not having you sick too.”

  Tomaaz shoved his arms into his jerkin and swung into the saddle, fastening it as Ajeurina tensed her haunches and sprang skyward. “How in the dragon’s tail are we going to get the lake weed into the dungeons in time? I shouldn’t have left Maazini. Should’ve stayed with him.” Fear tightened Tomaaz’s gut.

  “Ajeurina knows the back exit that the guards use when they’re banishing people to the Wastelands. She says it’s how they got Maazini in. The entrance is high on the southern side of Heaven’s Peak.”

  “Isn’t it guarded?”

  “Not usually. The slope’s too steep to be scaled, so no tharuks ever climb it. It’s only accessible by dragon.” Lovina spun to stare at him.

  “Dark dragons,” they said together.

  “Oh gods, what if they find it?” he whispered. “I bet no one has thought of guarding the tunnel against them.”

  “Let’s hope it’s not too late,” Lovina replied.

  “We’ll know soon enough,” Tomaaz said. Although the sun hadn’t hit the horizon, the sky was already lightening. “Faster, Ajeurina, please.”

  The forest and fields flashed by. Ajeurina winged over the clearing and up the slope of Heaven’s Peak. She crested the mountain. In the glimmering rays of dawn, the dark ravine to the south-east of Dragon’s Teeth cut a jagged scar through the fields, but the sky was clear of dark dragons.

  Lovina leaned over Ajeurina’s neck. “Go, girl, go.”

  Maazini’s Plight

  Billowing golden clouds stretched across the horizon, accompanied by the undertone of hundreds of shovels striking stone. Tharuks burst from the clouds, shredding them with their sharp claws. Masses of dark dragons followed, pouring through a dark hole and swarming over Dragons’ Realm, breathing swathes of fire over screaming people.

  Hans woke, drenched in sweat.

  He tossed the sheets aside, careful not to wake Marlies, and paced to the drawers for a clean undershirt. A shiver rippled down his spine, but it wasn’t just his sweat in the chill night air. It was the sheer magnitude of that swarm of dragons. Of the hordes of tharuks that had spilled through those clouds—without end. It was a prophecy, but what did it mean? Sometimes his dreams were literal. Billowing golden clouds meant a realm gate. He rubbed a weary hand over his face and then stumbled back to bed. But sleep didn’t come. Hans lay awake for hours, trying to fathom what his dream meant.

  He’d only been asleep for moments when the dream came again.

  More tharuks than before—hordes upon hordes of them. And dragons. Dark dragons—so many—blotting out the sky like a dark cloth. Lone dragon riders fought them, their bursts of flame like tiny stars against the shadows. Then the heavens opened—thousands of shadow dragon maws rained fire on the earth.

  Hans woke, panting. Thank the dragon gods and the First Egg—it was only a dream. Hopefully driven by his fears, not one that would become reality.

  §

  It was an awful job, but someone had to do it. Tonio paced out his agitation in front of his cold hearth as dawn rose over Dragon’s Teeth, the ring of mountains that encompassed Dragons’ Hold.

  “The sun’s rising,” Antonika, his ruby dragon, reminded him. “It’s time.” His dragon’s sadness washed over Tonio.

  All t
oo soon, there’d be one dragon less at Dragons’ Hold. If these methimium arrowheads were plentiful, they’d soon have more infected dragons that turned against their riders. Zens’ new weapons could wipe out their dragons.

  Tonio strode down the tunnels toward the dungeon. At the bottom of the steps, he took a torch from a sconce, the flame’s warmth welcome after the chilly tunnel. Tonio greeted the troop of blue guards, who fell in behind him. He slid his sword free of its scabbard and strode toward Maazini’s cell.

  §

  Ajeurina wheeled and swooped down the back of Heaven’s Peak. Tomaaz’s stomach rushed into his throat. The jade dragon backwinged, slipped into a gaping cavern, and flew down a broad tunnel deep into the mountainside. Soon, Ajeurina landed and furled her wings.

  “Get down,” Lovina said. “This is as far as she can take us.” Lovina was already out of the saddle, unbuckling Ajeurina’s saddlebags by the time Tomaaz dismounted, limbs stiff from his cold flight.

  She lifted the saddlebag holding the lake weed.

  “Let me take it.” Tomaaz snatched it up in his arms, and they ran around the corner.

  “Hey!” A blue guard rose from her post, calling out as they ran past.

  Tomaaz’s heart pounded. Gods. Dawn was here already. His breath rasped in his chest. And he was cold, so cold. “Maazini.” All he could gain by mind-melding were snatches of incoherent images: cavern walls, flashes of torchlight and pain. “He’s still alive,” Tomaaz panted.

  They ran through the dungeon tunnels, empty cells lining the walls.

  The thud of boots came from the opposite direction.

  Behind them, the blue guard stomped after them, calling, “Hey, stop!”

  “There!” Tomaaz gasped as Maazini’s cell loomed to their left. Lovina shoved the unlocked door open and they rushed inside.

  Maazini thrashed, scales pale and breathing labored. His tail lashed the rock. Bloody rags were scattered across the cavern like discarded playthings.

  Outside, boots thudded closer. The cell door clanged as someone thrust it open. Tomaaz didn’t dare look. Dropping the saddlebag near Maazini, he ducked a flailing leg, thrust open the flap and yanked out armfuls of lake weed.

  “Tonio’s here,” Lovina gasped. She grabbed some lake weed too.

  Tomaaz leaped back as Maazini swiped his leg across the floor.

  “This dragon is a danger to you and to himself,” Tonio barked behind them. “Men, draw your swords. Archers, ready your arrows.”

  “No!” Lovina screamed. “He’s been healed. Tomaaz took out the crystal.”

  “The girl’s right,” Amato yelled from the next cell.

  While Lovina argued with Tonio, Tomaaz stuffed wet lake weed into his jerkin. Cold seeped through his torso. Maazini’s limb swept past them and he ducked it. “Maazini, please hold still.”

  His fevered dragon didn’t respond. Tomaaz scrambled up Maazini’s neck and hooked his legs around the dragon’s throat. Holding on with one hand, he stuffed Maazini’s wound with slimy lake weed. “Lovina, more.”

  Lovina spun, thrusting more lake weed up into Tomaaz’s hands. Beyond her, blue guards had arrows nocked to their bows.

  “We can’t afford to have dragons attacking us,” Tonio said. “Even if he is of royal descent, I won’t have riders killed. Now, step aside. Believe me, if there was another way, I’d take it.”

  Tomaaz slapped Lovina’s lake weed over the wound, patting the damp plant material down to form a covering. He slid to the ground and stumbled over to Tonio. “There is another way,” he panted. “Here.” Tomaaz reached into his pocket, pulled out a bundle of rags and passed them to Tonio. “That’s the methimium arrowhead that burrowed into my dragon.”

  Tonio’s eyes narrowed. He unwrapped the rags, encrusted with dragon scales and Maazini’s blood, to reveal the arrowhead.

  “Careful,” Tomaaz barked. “It’ll burrow into you if it touches your skin.”

  Tonio raised a cynical eyebrow. He tipped the arrowhead onto his other palm. Immediately, the thing’s wiry legs wriggled, and one plunged into Tonio’s flesh. The arrowhead twisted, aiming its nose at his palm and tried to dig into his skin. Tonio shook it, but the wire clung to the flesh of his palm. “Gods, that sharding thing.”

  “Hold still,” Tomaaz snapped. He drew his blade, grasped Tonio’s palm, and flicked the blade under the wriggling crystal. The arrowhead dropped to the cavern floor where it lay, silver legs wriggling in the air like a dying beetle.

  Tomaaz faced the archers. “Why didn’t you aim at Tonio when the crystal attacked him? My dragon’s only fault was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Then why is he still thrashing and trying to kill you with his legs?” Tonio barked, rubbing his bloody palm.

  As if to prove Tonio right, Maazini’s tail slapped the stone floor.

  “His wound’s infected. All he needs is to heal.”

  “That he does,” called Amato from the next dungeon cell. “So clear off and give him and his rider a chance to get some sleep.”

  Tonio stalked to the door. “Shut your shrotty mouth, Amato. No one asked your opinion.” He spun to face Tomaaz. “I’ll be back.”

  §

  Hours later, Tonio made his way back down to the dungeons, rubbing his palm thoughtfully. That little shrott had stung as it hooked his flesh. Dark shadows had danced across his vision, but it’d be worse to have methimium burrowing through your body, invading your mind and driving you to hate the ones you loved. Not that there was anyone Tonio loved nowadays, apart from his ruby dragon, Antonika. He’d buried those feelings with Rosita.

  Outside Maazini’s cell, he stopped in his tracks.

  With his dragon’s tail curled around him and a wing over his legs, Tomaaz was slumped against Maazini’s hide, sound asleep. Lovina was nestled against him, her head in his lap. Maazini nuzzled his rider, and looked up at Tonio with mellow green eyes.

  This was no untamable rogue dragon, but a dragon bonded with his rider.

  Tonio walked into the cell and peeled off a piece of the leaf stuck to Maazini’s shoulder. He sniffed it and slipped out of the cell again, leaving the door ajar. He muttered to himself, “Lake weed. How did they learn that?”

  “From me.” Amato was pressed against metal bars of his cell. “There’s plenty more I can teach you. Especially about Zens.”

  Tonio ignored his arch-enemy, but his mind was whirring. By the tail of the mother of all dragons, he hadn’t expected that.

  Mazyka

  When 000 was done whipping Master Giddi, tharuks dragged the dragon mage through the large chamber and into a smaller one with beds along a wall. The beasts shoved him onto a bed and shackled him to it. The lashes on his back burning, Giddi pulled sathir from the environment around him. Magic hummed and crackled under his skin. He tried to form a flame, but failed. Zens had shackled his magic too. Giddi thrashed on the bed, rattling his chains and yelling.

  “Be still. You’re disturbing my work.” Zens’ face came into view. Those bulging yellow eyes swept over him.

  Giddi’s limbs became heavy and sluggish. He couldn’t move. What dragon-gods-forsaken magic was Zen using?

  “000,” Zens called. “Bring some anesthetic. The dragon mage is going to have a long sleep.”

  “Yes, Master.” The enormous tharuk carried over a needle longer than Giddi’s hand. It had some sort of clear tube attached to it, filled with pale-blue liquid.

  With horror, as several tharuks held down his limbs, Giddi realized the needle was not for sewing, but to insert the fluid inside him.

  “Be still.”

  With a sharp jab, 000’s needle pierced his thigh. Ice flooded Giddi’s veins. Darkness crashed in on him.

  “Gideon.”

  Someone was calling. A familiar voice. If only he could open his eyes.

  “Gideon. It’s me.”

  Giddi tried to move his head, but couldn’t. And then a face swam into view, partially obscured behind translucent golden c
louds. The clouds shifted, revealing more. He gasped, sucking in breath.

  Mazyka.

  His chest squeezed. She was just as beautiful as ever. She’d aged, but what else could you expect in nineteen years? “Mazyka?”

  Her eyes shone and her lips parted. “I’ve yearned for you this whole time.”

  “And I, you.” As her face neared, Giddi lifted a hand to stroke a wisp of red hair from her cheek, but his hands were chained with heavy shackles, his limbs so tired…

  Mazyka’s face dissolved and Giddi woke with a rattle of his chains, staring at the rough-hewn walls of Zens’ chamber.

  Montanara

  Despite it being the wee hours of the morning, Kierion thumped on Danion’s door.

  The dashing leader of dragon spy corps in Montanara opened it, bleary-eyed. “What’s going on?” Danion scratched his dark hair and squinted in the dim light from the flickering lantern in the ramshackle stairwell.

  “I’m looking for a missing friend.” Kierion would tear the town apart to find her. The whole flight here, he’d imagined a multitude of worst-case scenarios: Adelina kidnapped by Zens; her body dead on a heap of unnamed victims, mauled beyond recognition by tharuks. He shuddered. “I need help finding her.”

  Danion glanced along the corridor. “Keep your voice down and come in. You’ll wake everyone in the building with that racket.”

  Kierion ducked inside. “The girl I like has gone missing. She left Dragons’ Hold days ago, headed for here, but never turned up. Maybe you’ve seen her. Short with dark hair. She’s about this high.” Kierion held his hand up to his chest.

  “She’s a littling, then?” Danion raised a cynical eyebrow, as if doubting Kierion’s intentions.

  He spluttered. “No, she’s sixteen summers, but petite.”

  “Where do you think she’s gone?”

  Kierion slumped into the only chair in Danion’s sparse room. Dropping his elbows to his knees, he rubbed his face with his hands. “I have no idea.”