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

by Eileen Mueller

  This had happened not even an hour ago. “By the dragon gods,” Roberto whispered. “We’re too late.”

  §

  In the distance, spurts of flame gusted above the dark forest over Mage Gate. “Nearly there,” Maazini said.

  Flying through the night beside them, Lovina was huddled in her cloak on Ajeurina.

  They’d arrived at Dragons’ Hold a few hours ago, too late to save their people. In the end, he and Lovina had brought Death Valley’s former slaves with them through the realm gate. With a little decent food and the clear-mind berries, many of them had showed good signs of recovery.

  The carnage they’d seen back at the hold was worse than anything Tomaaz had ever witnessed—and that was after living in Death Valley. They’d found injured blue guards—dragons and riders—among the debris and the dead. Lovina had discovered Mara hiding in a cupboard in the girls’ sleeping cavern. A few of Hendrik’s workers had hidden at the back of the storerooms and others had taken refuge in a dungeon deep beneath the areas the tharuks had ransacked.

  Although everyone was still reeling in shock and grieving, Tomaaz had organized the survivors to camp in the council chambers until they returned. Situated at the highest point in the mountain’s cavern and tunnel complex, he hoped the chambers would provide a refuge. He’d then organized them to clean up the hold. A task of momentous proportions—tharuks had rampaged through the place, smashing furniture and destroying possessions. It would take a massive effort to clean up.

  They’d left the slaves under Mara’s command, guilt prickling their consciences because the injured riders had to deal with a hundred people. Hopefully, they’d help rebuilding Dragons’ Hold—their new home.

  The bursts of flame were closer now. A few hundred wingbeats farther. Pressure began to build in Tomaaz’s head. He called out to Lovina, “Have you got your headband?” He’d found two opaline headbands on Ezaara’s bloodstained ledge, amid signs of a scuffle. Gods, he hoped his twin sister was all right.

  “I’ll let you know as soon as I can mind-meld with one of our dragons,” Maazini said, the screams in his head rattling Tomaaz’s senses.

  Lovina pulled the headband from her pocket and fastened it around her head as Tomaaz fastened his own. The pressure eased. He shook his head, unsure whether these dark dragons’ screams were a battle tactic to distress dragons and riders, or whether dark dragons were constantly in pain. The effect was the same—unable to meld with Maazini any longer, Tomaaz was literally flying in the dark.

  Battle

  Zaarusha’s sides were heaving when she and Ezaara landed at Mage Gate. Ezaara dismounted and rubbed Zaarusha’s snout. “Thank you for being so swift.”

  “Rally our people and make a battle plan,” Zaarusha replied. “Shadow dragons will be on us in no time.”

  Ezaara melded with all the dragons overhead, requesting them to land.

  Dragons dived to the clearing, their feet churning up old snowdrifts and turning patches of emerging grass to mud. Some dragons arrived carrying three or four people. Littlings were sandwiched between parents or thrown up on top of dragon’s necks clinging to their spinal ridges. They jostled to make space in the forest-ringed clearing.

  “Zaarusha, please summon Dominique,” Ezaara asked as the dragon masters gathered around her.

  A burst of color broke away from the approaching cloud of dark dragons. The cloud scattered, becoming individual dragons that swooped to the clearing. A dark-blue dragon led them.

  “Erob, Roberto. Is that you?” After all this time—and she’d been so angry at him when he’d left. Her heart pounded against her ribs.

  The masters’ dragons shuffled back to make space for them to land.

  “It is indeed. We flew like the wind to catch you and dodged the swarm of shadow dragons. But I have bad news: still more dark dragons are coming.”

  “Thank the First Egg you’re safe.” Tears pricked Ezaara’s eyes. “How did it go?”

  “We’ve destroyed Zens’ facilities. He can no longer create his monsters.” Roberto dismounted and embraced her.

  Dominique strode between the assembled dragons, toward them. “How can I help, my honored Queen’s Rider?” The leader of the blue guards thumped his hand on his chest.

  “We must find refuge for our littlings. What would you suggest?”

  Dominique paused, tilting his head, then nodded. “Iniquo, my dragon, tells me Horseshoe Bend is safe. Our guards finished patrolling there a few hours ago.”

  “Good. Dispatch the littlings and those too weak to fight.”

  “Yes, Queen’s Rider.” Dominique departed.

  Marlies spoke. “Your father and I have scouted the area and found a place suitable for a temporary infirmary for anyone injured at Dragons’ Hold.”

  Or in the upcoming battle, but Ezaara didn’t mention that. They all knew what they were facing. “How many wounded do we have already?”

  “More than I’d like,” Ma answered, shaking her head grimly.

  Ezaara gestured to Battle Master Aidan. “Please organize foot archers to protect the new infirmary. Where is this clearing, Marlies?”

  Ma gestured eastward. “A hundred dragon lengths away in a copse of trees between a small clearing and the river—an ideal spot for dragons to land and bring in wounded.”

  Ezaara scanned the skies. Shadow dragons were rapidly approaching.

  Lars barked, “Master Aidan, we also need adequate dragons to transport our wounded there.”

  The battle master nodded. “Our blue guards will take them there immediately. Master Jerrick, please select foot archers.”

  The master of archery nodded and departed.

  How were they going to feed an army? Ezaara nodded at Derek. “Get everyone to divide what food we have among us to ensure that no one goes hungry.”

  Derek nodded. “I’ll relay the message.”

  With logistics organized, now Ezaara had to rally their riders. “Oh gods, Roberto what am I going to tell them? We’ve been driven from our homes. Dragons’ Hold has been destroyed. People are homeless, and we’re facing our worst enemy in years.”

  Roberto’s thoughts were calm. “You can do this, Ezaara. You’re Queen’s Rider. You saved Zaarusha from poison. You saved me from the Robandi silent assassins. Our people will rally behind you. I know you can save us from Zens.”

  Then he knew more than she did. Ezaara wasn’t sure at all.

  “Ezaara, don’t give up hope. Zens destroys from a sense of hatred. We fight out of love. Our riders will meet the shadow dragons in battle and defeat them.”

  The dark blot across the sky was rapidly approaching.

  Ezaara climbed upon Zaarusha’s back. The queen stood tall and proud. Ezaara stood upon her saddle and held her hands up for silence. Quiet fell over the clearing. Distant dragon wings rumbled, like an approaching storm in the sky. Faint echoes of mental shrieks rippled through her mind. She didn’t have long.

  “My dear people, we’ve been driven from our homes. Tonight, many of you will be hurting or grieving. But if we don’t fight back, we’ll lose everything. Zens is formidable, but he’s just a man, susceptible to an arrow or a well-aimed spear. He’s not fireproof. And neither are his beasts. We face many more than we ever imagined. But we are many, and know how to fight too.” Ezaara took a deep breath.

  “I have a secret to share: these dragons age prematurely. Roberto and this team made their way into Death Valley and have destroyed Zens’ means of creating more tharuks, shadow dragons or fake mages. The mages and shadow dragons that now exist won’t live longer than a week or a few days. If we can kill them all, we can end this onslaught against Dragons’ Realm forever.”

  For a moment there was stunned silence in the clearing.

  “Why don’t we outrun them?” someone called.

  “We have to fight,” Ezaara answered. “They’ve surrounded us, and if we run, they’ll slaughter our people.”

  Kierion thrust his fist in the air and yelled, “
Let’s go! Let’s fight!”

  There was a rousing cheer. Riders pounded their chests with their fists. “Let’s take to the skies for Ezaara.”

  Ezaara’s eyes pricked with tears. Shards, she could be sending them to their slaughter.

  “Zens has given us no choice, Ezaara,” Zaarusha melded.

  She was right. Ezaara held her arms high again. “We are not defenseless.” She reached into her pocket and drew out one of the opaline headbands. “As you landed, blue guards handed you these headbands. Opaline crystals are inserted inside them to protect you from the shadow dragons’ screams. You won’t be able to mind-meld with your dragons, but the enemy will no longer be able to mentally torture you. Good luck in battle. Some of our riders and dragons may fall, but we will fight on and purge Dragons’ Realm of Zens and his abominations.”

  A cry came up from the back of the crowd as arrows flew from the bushes. Tusky faces appeared. Tharuks smashed through trees, running toward them.

  Blue guards turned and flamed the tharuks.

  Ezaara punched her fist in the sky. “Now, we fight! To the skies!”

  Brown Guards

  After only one night sheltering against the storm in the cave, the snow cleared. Wan sunlight glancing off her wings, Esina descended from the Northern Alps over a snow-shrouded forest, then glided over a plain toward a cluster of hills.

  Hugging Taliesin’s waist, Leah said, “I never knew what was beyond the Northern Alps. The map hanging on the wall of the hold’s training cavern doesn’t show anything.”

  Taliesin nodded. “Hans once told me that the territory has never been mapped in order to protect the brown dragons.”

  “What do the brown guards do up here?”

  “I’m not sure,” said Taliesin. He pursed his lips. “The feelings I have are mixed—sadness and hope. Last night in the cave I dreamed of sick, dying dragons, but also of piaua flourishing. It was very confusing.”

  That was confusing. Leah was glad she was a tree speaker. Although she had no idea how to use that gift—apart from a few hurried instructions from Marlies. She held on to Taliesin’s waist a little tighter.

  They flew over some small snow-covered hillocks, approaching a chain of larger hills. A bellow rose, shattering the stillness. Esina replied, her roar rumbling across the plains and echoing off the hillside. Mighty brown wings flapped, taking off from the highest outcrop and soaring out to greet them.

  The brown dragon roared again, a mournful sound that floated over the tiny knolls. Its rider’s eyes flicked over them and he nodded. The dragon turned, escorting them to a plateau on the hillside. Esina followed the brown into a large cavern at the back of the plateau. As Leah’s eyes adjusted from the blinding white landscape outside to the dim flickering torches in the cavern, she saw around twenty brown dragons. The brown they were following was distinctly larger than the others.

  The cavern rippled with murmurs, snorts and snuffles. Huge feet thudded as the dragons came forward to sniff Esina. About a hundred riders approached, faces gaunt and posture listless.

  “Something’s gone wrong here,” whispered Taliesin. “Very wrong.”

  Leah could feel it too—as if these people’s very bones were sad.

  The brown’s short stocky rider slid from his saddle and strode over, a long dark plait hanging over his shoulder. The murmurs and snuffles died as he whipped out his sword and held the point at Taliesin’s belly. “It’s been a long time since we asked the red dragons to come to our aid. Why did you not turn up sooner?”

  Taliesin spoke, his voice surprisingly clear and confident. “I’m a new rider. It’s been barely five days since I imprinted. My dragon Esina has asked me to convey her condolences for your dead.” He placed his fist on his heart. “However, she is the only remaining red guard. All the riders and red dragons have been slaughtered by Commander Zens.”

  Gasps echoed through the cavern. Dragons shifted, talons scraping stone, sending shudders down Leah’s spine.

  The stocky rider’s eyes narrowed. “How is this possible?”

  Once again, Taliesin’s voice was clear, even commanding. “We don’t know. We came upon the massacre a few days ago. Esina told me they were ambushed by Zens’ dark dragons: beasts who shoot fire from their maws; aim strange yellow light from their eyes that slices through skin and scales; and use mind screams that torture our riders and dragons.”

  Leah spoke up. “I’m a healer at Dragons’ Hold.” How her heart swelled to say those words—although she was only in training. “We’ve come seeking aid to fight them, and piaua juice to heal our wounded. Our trees have been destroyed by Commander Zens and his tharuks. Every grove is gone.” Her eyes teared up and her voice choked.

  Exclamations of outrage came from the riders. The stocky rider, obviously their leader, held up his hands for silence.

  “Our injured riders are dying in droves,” Leah said. “Shadow dragons are attacking villages across Dragons’ Realm. Lush Valley is laid to waste. I witnessed the screams of the dying around me, the earth peppered with the bodies of people, tharuks and dragons.”

  The leader sheathed his sword and motioned them to dismount.

  When they slid from the saddle, he shook their hands. “I’m Darynn, leader of the brown guards and rider of Rynnlak. Dragons’ Realm must be in dire trouble to send two so young on such an important quest. Welcome to our hearth.” He waved a hand at his people. “Prepare some food and ready bedrolls for our guests.”

  He turned back to Leah and Taliesin. “Come with me.” Their boots echoed hollowly on the tunnel leading to the mouth of the cavern. “Recently, a scourge came upon the land and our dragons were weakened. Many died. The sickness that took them could not be battled with piaua. I’ll show you.”

  He stopped at the edge of the ledge where they’d landed. Below, hillocks dotted the plain all the way to a grove of trees in the north.

  Darynn turned to them, sorrow etching harsh lines around his mouth and on his brow. “These humps you see are not hills. They’re dragons, lying dead beneath the snow.”

  Leah’s hand flew to her mouth. Taliesin gaped.

  Shoulders slumped, Darynn shook his head. “Our dragons were too sick to give our dead a decent funeral pyre. For now, they rest. When the thaw comes, we’ll dispatch them to the land of departed dragons with respect.” Eyes bright with tears, he bowed his head, silent.

  §

  Leah was itching to get going. Sitting around in the cavern for a night during the snowstorm and, now, for another night while these people deliberated how to help them wasn’t aiding the injured riders at Dragons’ Hold. To ease her agitation, she sat by the fire, weaving animals out of sticks, wondering whether the tharuk who’d unwittingly helped her had perished when Esina had attacked.

  She bent twigs to form the body of a hare. If only she was as fleet-footed, she’d run straight home with piaua juice tucked in her healer’s pouch. She passed Taliesin the hare.

  He studied it. “I wonder what happened to that dragon you made?”

  “I think I lost it when I fled.” Leah picked up more sticks, fashioning them into a piaua tree.

  Darynn came over to the fire and sat beside them. “Our own supplies are low, and our tree speaker also died in the scourge. We’ve no spare piaua juice to give you.”

  Leah turned to him. “I’m a tree speaker. That’s why I was sent on this quest.”

  Darynn raised his eyebrows. “So you know how to harvest the juice? Good, perhaps you can help us replenish our supply. Tomorrow I’ll take you and Taliesin to the piaua grove to the north.”

  “Thank you.” Leah touched his arm. “My people will be indebted to you.”

  Darynn gave her a grim smile. “Good, we need all the help we can get.” He rose and left her and Taliesin in front of the fire, the murmur of soft voices around them.

  Leah closed her eyes, the flames casting bright patterns behind her eyelids. Marlies had only whispered a few hurried instructions before she and Talie
sin had headed off. She’d hoped to find another tree speaker here who could teach her, but it was all up to her now.

  Taliesin squeezed her hand. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  Leah opened her eyes, gazed into his, and whispered, “I have no idea.”

  §

  Darynn led Leah through the snow to the trees. “This is our sacred grove.”

  Two denuded oaks stood on either side of a trail leading deep into a growth of strongwoods, pine, yew, holly, and eucalyptus. She hesitated. After seeing the barren grove of the red guards and the desecrated sacred clearing in Lush Valley, it was almost too much to hope that any living piaua remained. Leah turned and waved to Taliesin, waiting on Esina, bundled up against the light flakes that danced across the plain. He lifted a gloved hand and waved back.

  Darynn placed a hand on her back and gave her a gentle push. “Go on,” he said, kindness lighting his eyes. “You’ve journeyed far. Don’t be afraid.”

  Leah squeezed her hands into fists, resisting the urge to pluck twigs to make a woodland creature. Whispers from the trees drifted around her in the snowflakes. She strode between the leafy foliage, the whispers caressing her ears. Her fingertips hummed with the peculiar sensation she always experienced in a healthy, vibrant forest.

  She forced herself to relax, exhaling. Avoiding a deep snow drift, she rounded a bend in the narrow trail and came face to face with an impenetrable wall of trunk and foliage. A mighty living, breathing, piaua was before her, its foliage kissing the sky. Large enough to shelter several dragons, its leaves were dusted with snow, green peeking through where the wind had rustled its branches. Her heart soared. There was hope for her people.

  If she could harvest the juice—and that was a big ‘if’.

  Whispers built, crashing upon her mind like waves on a shore. “Tree speaker, you come in peace.”

  Leah nodded, in awe of the mighty tree. “Yes, I come in peace, seeking your juice to save my people.”