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

by Eileen Mueller

  Shoulders shaking, she cried, tears running down her face and falling onto her ash-smeared hands.

  Taliesin laid an arm around her shoulder and sat with her.

  “I’m sorry, Taliesin,” she sobbed. “It’s just…” She turned to him.

  His eyes were bright with hope.

  She had to break this to him somehow. Although he’d found a wonderful dragon, they would return home empty-handed. There was no hope for their people. She opened her mouth, unsure of what to say.

  “Come on, Leah.” Taliesin tugged her to her feet. “Esina has just told me that there are brown dragons who protect a piaua grove far over the Northern Alps. She’ll take us there.”

  Leah’s mouth sagged. “What?”

  “Esina said there are brown guards who—”

  “I heard you!” Leah hugged Taliesin, lifting him off the ground and spinning him around in a flurry of ash. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Taliesin and Esina. I’d given up hope.”

  “No need for thanks,” Taliesin answered, grinning. “I told you back in Montanara, we’d be successful.”

  The Bloody Cutlasses

  The Bloody Cutlasses’ ship was bearing down on them at a rapid rate, red sails billowing. Roberto ordered his dragon riders to prepare.

  “Barnacles,” Captain cursed. “The wind’s favoring them. Nod, fetch barrels of oil.” He bellowed. “Medina, ready the rags. Skim and Scupper, into the tops with your bows. Everyone else, haul shields, bows and cutlasses on deck. Line the railing. Let’s show those egg-suckers how to fight.”

  The pirates formed a chain with sleek efficiency and passed metal barrels out of the hold to their mates, who spaced them along the rails. Medina, the pirate with the flaming arrow on her scalp, dipped rags into the barrels, soaking them with oil, and wrapped them around arrow shafts. Other pirates flung open large chests of weapons and passed out daggers, knives, and cutlasses.

  Two skinny pirates with tattooed sea dragons entwined around anchors on their forearms, and quivers and bows slung over their backs, swarmed up the mainmast to the fighting tops. They nocked their bows, waiting. More rushed on deck wearing breastplates, holding shields, their weapons gleaming at their hips.

  The dragon riders assembled in the stern and pulled on their jerkins, fastened breastplates and strapped greaves to their forearms.

  “Everyone got their weapons?” Roberto barked.

  They nodded.

  “If only we had all of our dragons,” Gret said.

  Danion scowled. “We’ve planned for this eventuality. And you know the ship could only hold three dragons at a time. Now, we fight.”

  Only Riona and Erob were supposed to accompany them. But Tomaaz had refused to come without Maazini. After the recent death threat to Maazini, Roberto didn’t blame him, so he’d relented. They needed Tomaaz. He and Lovina had been slaves in Death Valley and knew the layout and tharuk habits. They’d be essential on the ground once they reached their destination.

  Roberto nodded. “We can try to summon our dragons, but most of them will be patrolling Spanglewood Forest near the Terramites, far out of range. If you do manage to mind-meld with them, warn them to fly high, out of arrow range. Now, await your orders.” He strode through the bustling pirates to the helm. “Captain, what can we do to help?”

  “Blast that barnacle bowl out of the water,” the captain snapped. “Make sure your dragons don’t get in the way of our arrows. When I blow the horn, fall back.”

  “Will do.”

  “Mark my words, this will be a bloody battle,” Captain muttered.

  Not if Roberto could help it.

  Captain spun. “What about Amato? We need every fighter we can get.”

  Roberto huffed. “Leave him in the brig. If the ship’s taken, the pirates can do what they like with him.”

  “So much anger in such a young heart,” Erob melded.

  “Come on, Erob. You know what he—”

  “Pirates are attacking,” Erob interrupted. “Focus.”

  “Captain, mind your archers don’t hit our dragons,” Roberto called.

  “Hear that, crew?” Captain bellowed.

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” the crew roared, arrows nocked and eyes focused on the looming red sails.

  Captain bellowed. “I don’t want dragons injured or riders lost. Medina, pass those riders some oil-soaked rags so their dragons don’t have to get too close. Once we’ve wiped out the Bloody Cutlasses, they have work to do in Death Valley.”

  Medina passed each rider a quiver of arrows wrapped in oil-soaked rags.

  Roberto strode to the poop deck where Erob, Riona, and Maazini were sitting. Dragon riders were lined up next to them, awaiting orders.

  “Adelina, Danion, and Gret, man the rails and use your bows. The crew have shields to protect you from volleys of enemy arrows. Kierion, Tomaaz, and I will ride our dragons out to destroy those blood-red sails. We’ll be back before our crew fires any arrows. Lovina, you’ll be the captain’s runner. Stay out of harm’s way. If it comes to the worst, take a rowboat with Danion, Adelina, and Gret and make for land.” He made eye contact with each one of them, painfully aware that he couldn’t bridge the gap with his sister before battle. Gods, if anything happened to her—or him… “Good luck, everyone. And by the First Egg, our top priority is to stay alive. Take no stupid risks, hear me?”

  They nodded, murmuring assent.

  Roberto glared at Kierion. “Especially you. You’ve been sick for days and don’t have the strength for heroics. Fenni, ride with him and Riona, and keep both eyes on him.”

  The mage thumped his heart with his fist. “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you, Roberto. I’m terrified of fighting,” Lovina’s blue eyes were wide. Tomaaz hugged her, then swung into his saddle as she raced to the captain.

  Fenni helped Kierion—still green at the gills—into Riona’s saddle. Adelina reached up and squeezed Kierion’s hand.

  “Well deployed,” Danion murmured to Roberto before hustling Adelina and Gret to the railing.

  Roberto climbed onto Erob’s back, tightened his saddle straps and gnawed his lip, watching Kierion fumble with his saddle.

  “Riona assures me he’s made of strong stuff,” Erob said.

  “Apart from his stomach. Are you ready to stretch your wings?”

  A happy rumble coursed through Erob’s body. “I’d like nothing better.”

  Riona tensed her haunches, gently rising into the air, the wind from her wingbeats stirring the ends of the pirates’ bandannas.

  Gold tooth glinting, Nod winked at Roberto. “Don’t get yourself killed.”

  §

  Adelina’s throat tightened as Erob and Riona flew out to meet the Bloody Cutlasses. As a littling, tales of the Bloody Cutlasses had made her quake in bed all night long. The Scarlett Hand was worst. Now, the only people she loved were flying into the pirate’s maw.

  She nocked her bow and held her oil-soaked arrow steady, ready to touch it to the flaming torch mounted on the rail in front of her. She was the last in a long line of archers along the Roaring Dragon’s gunnels. Behind them, pirates stood with long shields, ready to raise them over their heads against the enemy’s answering volleys of arrows.

  The ship loomed, red sails tight with wind. It was huge, way bigger than the Roaring Dragon.

  This was crazy. Adelina had been to Death Valley, faced down tharuks, yet now she was quaking. Gods, if only Linaia was near. She tried to mind-meld but there was no answer.

  §

  “Ah, Riona, I should have done this earlier. I’m not getting back on that floating pail again.” Gods, Kierion had no idea the ocean was so many shades of blue. Below them, dark shapes moved beneath the crystalline ocean surface, mysterious and alluring.

  “You feeling all right?” Fenni asked, both arms around his waist, obviously taking his assignment seriously.

  “For now, yes. The moment Riona took off, I felt fine.” Kierion patted her neck scales. Well, apart from s
till being weak and dizzy, but they didn’t need to know that.

  “Let’s roast some pirates.”

  Kierion clung to the saddle as Riona climbed higher. They entered a bank of cloud. Clammy air clawed at Kierion, but it was better than pitching on that wooden bucket in the middle of the sea.

  To his left was a bright orange blob between drifting clouds—Maazini and Tomaaz. And to his right, a blue shape—Erob.

  The cloud cleared. Below, a stream of churning white trailed the red-sailed ship. He glanced back. The Roaring Dragon had turned to meet the Bloody Cutlasses head on.

  Shards, Captain was mad. If it were him, he would’ve turned tail and fled, not angled the ship to ram the pirates. He shrugged. No doubt, Captain had his reasons—as long as he didn’t get them killed.

  §

  “Roberto, let’s go,” Erob called, furling his wings and diving.

  “I don’t want you hurt, so we’ll use Captain’s flaming arrows.” Roberto fired one of Medina’s arrows.

  As it shot past Erob, he spurted a tiny flame. The arrow ignited, leaving a fiery trail through the sky. It fell short of the ship, sizzling into the water.

  Cries from the Bloody Cutlasses rang out. They fired at Erob, but he climbed and the arrows fell back, speckling the sea’s surface like rain.

  Roberto had the advantage because he was firing downward. He took his time to aim, correcting for a light cross wind. The next arrow hit its target: a pirate standing at the stern.

  “I’m dying to try just a little flame or two,” Erob melded.

  “No,” Roberto replied. “I don’t want you hurt. Captain’s right, we have bigger fish to fry.”

  “Please, I haven’t flambéed pirates in years. It’ll make a nice change from killing tharuks.” Roberto would have laughed out loud, but he was too busy concentrating on his next target. He loosed his arrow. Erob flamed it. The arrow tangled in the rigging behind the mainsail. Sparks flitted onto the ropes and a thin stream of smoke trailed from the ship. It wasn’t enough.

  Maazini dived. Tomaaz’s flaming arrow hit the jib sail. Flames licked along the edge.

  Fanned by the wind, the fire in the rigging flared until tongues of hungry flame reached the main sail, setting the edge on fire. Smoke billowed into the sky.

  On deck, a man in a red cloak waved his hands at the flames. The fire in the rigging and sails died. Shards, they had a mage on board.

  Riona swooped from the starboard side. Kierion’s arrow struck the neck of a pirate behind the ship’s wheel. A bolt of Fenni’s mage flame hit him, too. A yell pierced the sky and his body slumped to the deck. Another pirate kicked the dead man aside and grabbed the wheel as Riona shot skyward.

  Erob wheeled in midair as a volley of arrows zipped toward them. A spike of pain lanced through Roberto’s mind. Erob. “What was it? Were you hurt?”

  “Just a scratch on my tail, but now I’m angry. Can I kill some pirates?”

  A horn blew aboard the Roaring Dragon.

  “No, Erob, I’m sorry. That was the captain’s signal to fall back.”

  Erob snarled, opening his jaws and sending a lick of flame down toward the ship, but the mage waved his arms and it sputtered out before it hit. Erob snarled, flying back to the Roaring Dragon. “Next time come to a different arrangement with that stupid captain.”

  The sky below them was filled with the crackle of flaming arrows as they streaked toward the Roaring Dragon.

  §

  The pirate ship’s progress slowed, but they hadn’t stopped it. Riona flew back to the Roaring Dragon, Kierion’s blood charging through his veins. His stomach roiled, but this time, not with nausea. “Flame it, Riona, I’m starving!”

  “Don’t worry, we can grab you a snack.”

  “What do you mean? It’s not as if we can stop by the Brothers’ Arms and get a meal. We’re in the middle of the ocean.”

  “Yes, flying right above nature’s garden.” Riona flew to starboard, out of firing range, and dived, her talons skimming the surface of the sea. When they rose, she turned her neck and raised her foreleg. A fish was spiked upon one of her long talons, flopping about. She breathed a gentle gust of flame over the fish, roasting it, then tossed it in the air.

  Kierion caught it. Shards, the thing was hot. He bounced it from hand to hand, trying to cool it.

  “Don’t burn your tongue,” Fenni quipped from behind Kierion.

  “I could dip it back in the ocean if you’d like?” Riona replied.

  “What? And feed my dinner to the sharks? No thank you!” Kierion laughed and scoffed down the fish before they flew back to fight.

  §

  Fenni peered out from behind Kierion as his friend ate his fish. He didn’t want to hurry Kierion and Riona, but talk about sharding timing. He sighed. His friend hadn’t held down food for days. No doubt the purple dragon knew if Kierion didn’t eat, he’d flake out in the middle of this battle. Fenni flung his hand out and quenched a fireball zipping toward the Roaring Dragon’s main sail. That Bloody Cutlass mage was quick on his feet, shooting fireballs faster than Fenni could control them. The pirate mage had also doused the fires on the Bloody Cutlasses’ ship before they could destroy much.

  A volley of fiery arrows flew through the air at the Roaring Dragon. Fenni stretched out his arms and tried to pull sathir from the fires to quench them—and failed. Flames sprang from the rigging at the stern of the ship. Shards, his magic couldn’t reach that far. “Kierion, Riona, back to the ship. Go, go, go.”

  Fenni snatched a rope from the saddlebags and tied it to Riona’s saddle.

  “What are you doing?” Kierion asked, turning to eye the rope as he scoffed the last of his fish.

  “I’m going to land among the tops and slither down into the crow’s nest. From there, I can help douse the fires.”

  Kierion's eyes flew wide. “You’re flaming mad.”

  “If you can jump from dragon’s tails, I can do this.”

  The Roaring Dragon was under them now. Riona swooped.

  “Maybe.” Kierion gauged the distance. “Quick! If you’re going to do it, jump now.”

  Hanging on to the rope, Fenni leaped. “Ooff!” The rope went taut and he flew toward the masts.

  §

  The horn blew. It was time to fall back. “Let’s go,” Tomaaz melded. “We’re in our own men’s firing range.”

  “Tomaaz, what’s that thing?” Maazini asked. He showed Tomaaz an image of a long object on the Bloody Cutlasses’ ship, like a spear but as thick as a big man’s upper arm. It had a sharp barbed nose and was mounted on a stand. A rope was coiled on the deck beside it.

  “Not sure. Perhaps we should take a closer look.” Tomaaz hunched over the saddle as Maazini dived toward the ship. Hopefully, the pirates were too busy scrambling to notice them.

  Four Bloody Cutlasses were gathered around the long shaft. As they got closer, one of them looked skyward and yelled, pointing at Maazini. The other aimed the nose of that spear up and released it. The giant thick-shafted spear flew into the air, its rope uncoiling as it gained momentum, firing straight for Maazini’s belly.

  “Maazini, flee!”

  His dragon broke his dive and shot skyward, frantically beating his wings.

  Maazini zipped to the side and the thick spear shot past them, the wind of its passage ruffling Tomaaz’s long hair. “Shards, that was close!”

  “It’s not over yet.” Maazini swerved again as the projectile hit the end of its tether above and started falling seaward—toward them.

  “Heave-ho!” A cry rang out below them. The pirates were pulling the rope, leaning sideways to alter the spear’s path.

  “Fly to your left, fast!”

  Without questioning him, Maazini obeyed. The rope swayed and the enormous spear, as thick as a man’s thigh, arced toward Maazini.

  “Faster, boy, faster.”

  Tomaaz angled his body over Maazini’s back. Maazini flapped and arched sideways as the heavy projectile fell toward them.
“Hang on.” Maazini rolled, twisting his body over. Tomaaz’s arms ached as he hung on, upside-down. There was a flash of horizon, sea, more sea, and then sky again. Tomaaz’s head spun.

  “Hold on again.” Maazini dived, blasting flame at the thing, but it fell harmlessly into the sea, creating an enormous splash that sprayed the pirates’ bowsprit.

  “Heave-ho,” came the cry of Bloody Cutlasses.

  “No!” Tomaaz cried. The Bloody Cutlasses were hauling on that thing’s rope, yanking it back on board the ship, so they could fire again. “There are more of those things along the gunnels and in the stern.”

  “Curse that battle horn,” Maazini said. “Despite that scare, I was just beginning to enjoy myself.”

  After being stuck in the dungeons at Dragons’ Hold for so long, Tomaaz had to agree. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained. At least we slowed them down,” Tomaaz replied as they shot higher and winged back toward the Roaring Dragon.

  A Rare Find

  Giddi was dreaming of Mazyka again. But this time, he was actually awake. Her face swam in and out of his mind, her lips moving as she called his name. Dreams like these had taunted him years ago, when he’d first locked the world gate. Occasionally now, they still did. Perhaps the substance Zens had plunged into his veins had started these infernal dreams again. There was no other explanation. He longed to wrap his aching, empty arms around Mazyka and embrace her after all these years.

  She’d opened the world gate and let Zens into their world.

  So what? Giddi no longer cared. Gods, he missed her with a vengeance. And even though he’d had to lock her out for the sake of Dragons’ Realm, he wished he’d gone with her. And wished he could open that world gate again.

  §

  Zens stalked into the antechamber, glancing over the young mages growing in the tanks. They’d soon be ready to fly on his latest batch of the black-winged beasts he’d created from the scales and flesh of that orange royal dragon. No doubt, the foolish creature didn’t realize he’d been used for cloning. He padded over to Giddi, the dragon mage. There were rumors this man could mind-meld with any man or dragon. Jealousy surged through Zens’ veins.