In the infirmary with bone knit, slippery elm powder and piaua, Marlies could’ve saved her, but here on this dirty grim battlefield, the woman didn’t stand much chance. But she had to try. “Bring her here.” Marlies gestured to a patch of ground closest to her supplies, eying the wound as the man lowered the woman to the ground.
“It’s my daughter,” he gasped, tears pooling in his eyes.
“Good, then you can spare your belt.”
While the man removed his belt, Marlies grabbed swathes of bandages. On second thoughts, she put some back for other patients. “Can you spare a few strips from your shirt?”
He passed her the belt and drew his knife.
Tearing fabric ricocheted in Marlies’ ears. “Keep an eye on her breathing.” She fastened his belt around the girl’s upper arm, thrust a stick through a loop and twisted it. The tourniquet should cut off the blood supply and stop the girl from bleeding out.
“She’ll lose her arm, won’t she?” the archer asked, hands shaking as he passed Marlies strips of his shirt.
She nodded. “Better than losing her life,” she said softly. “See if you can staunch the blood with those strips.” Infection was a risk, but the girl wouldn’t have the arm for long and they’d need the clean bandage when they severed her arm and cauterized it.
An hour later, Marlies tied off the bandage and rose, stretching her aching back. She blew air out of her nose, trying to clear the smell of the cauterized flesh. At least the girl now had a chance.
“Stay here and watch her,” she said to the father who was openly weeping now, his daughter’s good hand in his bloody fingers.
A small cloaked figure broke through the trees, a slim boy following her. “Marlies,” she called.
Marlies rubbed her eyes. For a moment she’d thought it was Leah. Impossible. Leah was probably dead with the red dragons. Shards, she was tired.
“Marlies.”
Gods, the girl even sounded like Leah.
“One moment, please,” Marlies called, turning away to wipe her hands clean on a damp rag. She had to get a grip on herself. She picked up a waterskin and sloshed water onto her hands, asking over her shoulder, “What is it?”
“Marlies, I’ve brought piaua juice.”
She spun, staring at the girl. Smoke-smudged, with a smile on her face, it was Leah. Taliesin, too.
Marlies rushed over to hug her protégé, squeezing her tight. “When I heard the red guards had died, I thought you had too. By the dragon’s tail, it’s good to see you.” Her heart surged. Now, here was some good news.
Leah gave a grim laugh. “We nearly did die, more than once, but now we’re here and have piaua with us. Only a little, though.”
Taliesin grinned at Marlies. “I told you we’d do it.”
Something had changed about the boy. He stood straighter, was more confident. Marlies grabbed him by the shoulders and embraced him. “So you did. Thank the mighty dragon gods.”
§
Tonio stumbled into the clearing, a wounded young blue guard in his arms. “Please, Marlies, help this boy.”
Blood dripped from a gash in the lad’s throat. Her eyes met Tonio’s dark ones, grave. She swallowed. “I’ll do my best.”
“You always do.” Tonio laid the boy on a blanket beside her.
Marlies quickly cleansed the wound and stitched it together clumsily, her fingers weary. She was tired, so tired. Would these battles never end? She steeled her shoulders. Not until Zens was purged from the realm and his evil monsters were dead.
Ignoring rustling in the nearby bushes, Marlies tied off the last stitch in the lad’s throat and dribbled a few drops of piaua over the wound.
“Look out, Marlies!” Tonio yelled.
She spun. An arrow was heading for her.
Tonio lunged, slamming her to the ground. Marlies stared in horror as the arrow pierced Tonio’s breast. He slumped to the earth, the arrow protruding from his chest, its shaft slick with limplock.
“We’re under attack!” an archer yelled, shooting the beast that had just hit Tonio. More archers raced into the brush, checking for further tharuks.
“Marlies, I’m dying.” Tonio clutched his breast. “You helped me understand him. Thank you. Tell Roberto I apologize for banishing him to the Wastelands.”
Marlies sank to the ground, cradling Tonio’s head in her lap, stroking his hair. “It was nothing, Tonio.”
“He’s a better man than Amato. Anakisha’s and Lucia’s blood run strong in his veins.” Tonio’s eyelids fluttered.
“Yes, my friend.” She stroked his hair. He smiled as his eyes drifted shut.
After all the years of bitterness, Tonio finally understood. But it was too late. Nothing could restore his beloved Rosita or his former friendship with Amato. He’d wasted much of his life in anger and resentment. Marlies’ tears fell on Tonio’s eyelids. She squeezed his hand, her chest cracking in two. “Please, Tonio, please hold on.” She opened a vial of piaua and dribbled juice into his wound, but the red stain spread across his chest until it drenched his jerkin. His head slumped.
For a long moment. Marlies sat, the battle raging above her and the wounded moaning. Roars rang in the distance. Fireballs shot above the trees.
A roar of grief rang through the forest as Antonika, Tonio’s ruby dragon, shot overhead. She circled the trees, calling for him, her plaintive cry tugging at Marlies’ heartstrings. Her wail was answered by blue guards as she shot into battle to avenge her rider.
Marlies recalled Tonio telling her how he’d stolen Antonika’s egg from a Naobian street gang when he was young.
Tonio’s time was up. He’d saved her. She had to make it count. And although she’d worked for years among the wounded and injured, it hadn’t always been like that. In her early days at Dragons’ Hold, she’d fought tharuks along with the rest of them. She’d had her fair share of kills.
Her next kill would be to avenge Tonio—her friend and former dragon corps master.
Marlies kissed Tonio’s forehead and laid him on the earth, folding his arms over his chest, his feet facing Naobia, his origin.
She rose and stepped around patients, pacing to Leah and Taliesin, who were doing an admirable job of tending the wounded. Taking off her healer’s pouch, she fastened it around Leah’s waist.
“Go and fight, Marlies.” Leah kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you soon.” Her smile did not touch her eyes. “Thank you for everything you’ve taught me.”
Taliesin hugged her.
Marlies ripped off her opaline headband. She had always fought while mind-melded with Hans and their dragons. Today would be no different. As the anguished screams of the dark dragons tore through her mind, she met them with a ferocity she hadn’t felt in years. As if the screams were her own. Screams for her friend who’d died. The screams of a nation overrun with monsters. Screams for a sweet dragonet she’d accidentally killed years ago. For every rider or dragon she’d laid to rest.
Marlies opened her mind to her dragon. “Liesar, I’m ready to fight.”
In a flash of silver, her dragon dived between the trees and landed, her talons tearing up earth and spraying slush. Marlies swung into the saddle, grabbed her bow, nocked an arrow, and they ascended into the broiling swarm of dark dragons.
§
A flash of silver shot past Handel into the sky. Hans’ heart soared. Years ago, he and Marlies had fought together—it was only fitting that they do so again today. He ripped off his headband so he could speak with Handel, but his dragon was already on Liesar’s tail, riding the way they had all those years ago in Anakisha’s final battle.
Marlies loosed an arrow into a shadow dragon’s ragged wing, shredding it. Hans fired at the mage upon its back. Liesar flamed the beast while Handel blasted any dragon that tried to come near.
Liesar wheeled and shot through the dark cloud of dragons like a silver arrow.
Far off in the distance, Hans saw a flash of orange—Maazini carrying Tomaaz. A streak of rainbow
cut through the black dragons, Ezaara’s blonde hair flying in the breeze as she loosed an arrow.
When they’d fled Dragons’ Hold all those years ago, Hans had never dared hope to one day fight in battle with the twins at their side. Here he was, protecting the realm with his entire family. With a jolt, he realized the prophecy he’d seen of himself in battle with Ezaara as he’d left Death Valley months ago, limplocked and dying, had come true.
He prayed to the dragon gods that they’d all live to see another day.
§
Dragons roared and screeched, talons out, as they flew toward Erob, aiming for his wings. Roberto aimed an arrow, but the beast swerved and a volley of flame gusted from its maw, narrowly missing Erob’s tail.
Erob flapped his wings, shooting higher. The yellow beams from another shadow dragon’s eyes swept toward his foreleg.
A bellow of pain ricocheted through Erob’s body. Another shadow dragon dived at Erob. Roberto gulped. He was surrounded. Gods, this was it. If only he didn’t have the opaline headband on, he could mind-meld with Ezaara and tell her how much he loved her one last time.
A volley of flame shot from overhead, catching on the shadow dragon’s wings. Flames licked along its wing struts. Soon the beast was engulfed in fire. Another volley of flame shot from the air, engulfing another shadow dragon above him. The beast plummeted to the ground in a trail of smoke. A third volley shot at yet another shadow dragon. In a flash of color, Zaarusha was upon its back, shredding its wings with her talons and beating its body with her tail. The beast dropped.
Erob and Zaarusha shot skyward, free of shadow dragons—but not for long.
“Are you all right?” Ezaara called.
“Yes, but I think Erob’s hurt,” Roberto bellowed back. “Can you take a look?”
Zaarusha dived below Erob. Ezaara craned her neck up, scanning his underbelly. They shot back up beside Roberto. “He has a gash on one of the toes on his right foreleg. I don’t think it’s too bad,” she yelled.
“Look out,” Roberto cried. “Behind you.” He nocked his bow and fired as Zaarusha wheeled and shot off to fight more shadow dragons.
Chaos Reigns
A shrill whistle cut through the water. About time. Fenni’s lungs were strained. His last few fireballs had sputtered and fizzed out before they’d even made it as far as the riverbank.
He burst from the water, hands at the ready.
A floating tharuk corpse bumped him. He shoved it away. The river was choked with dead and dying tharuks. Fenni had to swim through them, pushing their bodies out of the way to get to the shore.
They’d done it.
Jael leaned down, panting hard, and gave him a hand out of the water. Fenni’s feet churned on the muddy bank, which bore deep gouges from hundreds of tharuks. They stood there, puffing for a moment.
Fenni shook his head, gazing at the hordes of tharuks burnt and charred behind them in the forest. At the bodies being swept downriver and clogging the riverbanks. “At least the strangletons have enough to feed on.”
Master Jael clapped him on the back. “They certainly do. Well done.”
“I would never have been able to do it without you making me freeze my backside off during the mage trials.” He shook his head again. “We did it. We really did it.” Something loosened in his chest and he bent over, holding his hands on his knees to get his breath.
Jael embraced him, using his magic to dry Fenni’s garments.
“Thanks, that’s much better,” Fenni muttered.
Jael tilted his head back, frowning. “By flaming sathir, what in the Egg is that?”
Fenni didn’t want to know. He was spent. Wearily, he turned and gasped. No. A beam of yellow light shone above the forest, cutting into the dark mass of dragons above. “Oh, no.”
Jael shook his shoulder. “What is it?” he asked urgently.
“A methimium ray. Those yellow crystals Zens has can keep the realm gates open,” he groaned.
Jael frowned. “Do you think he’s gone to Death Valley to fetch more dark dragons?”
“No, he couldn’t have.” Fenni took a deep breath. “I destroyed them all.”
“You?” spluttered Jael, eyebrows shooting up.
Fenni nodded. “Yes, me.”
“So Ezaara’s right. If we can kill these ones, the battle might be over.” Jael bit his lip. “They age quickly and die, so they don’t live long. All we need to do is wipe them out.”
“Either way, we’d better help.”
They raced along the trail toward Mage Gate.
When they got there, they hung back in the trees. Master Giddi was standing in the clearing where they’d held the mage trials.
“At last, he’s here.” Fenni tensed his muscles, about to run and greet Master Giddi.
But Jael restrained him. “Something’s wrong. Look.”
Commander Zens was standing behind Giddi, speaking to him, his luminous yellow eyes fixed on the dragon mage’s face.
“That man is plain creepy.” Fenni shuddered.
“We can’t risk hurting Master Giddi.”
A figure ran into the clearing from the other side, long white beard flowing and cloak billowing out behind him. Master Starrus! He thrust up his hands, about to unleash his magic.
Starrus yelled, “Kill Master Giddi. He’s under Zens’ influence.” He raised his hands, shooting a volley of flame at Master Giddi.
Master Giddi didn’t react. He simply stood there, gazing up at the yellow beam streaming from a small metal contraption in the middle of the clearing.
Instinctively, Fenni flung up his hands to counter Master Starrus’ flame. An arc of fire leaped from his hands toward Starrus.
Before Starrus’ flame hit the mage, Zens spun, staring at Starrus. Master Starrus dropped to the ground twitching, then went still.
“He’s dead,” Jael whispered.
Fenni’s flame hissed over Starrus’ dead body into the trees. Master Giddi, oblivious, stared along the shaft of the yellow beam piercing the sky.
For a moment, the forest seemed to pause and everything went silent. Even the distant roars of the dark dragons were muted.
Fenni swallowed. If it hadn’t been for Zens, he would’ve killed Master Starrus.
Zens turned, slowly scanning the forest.
“Quick, flee.” Jael dragged Fenni deeper into the trees.
They ran, then stopped to catch their breath.
“The question is,” Jael said, “whether Master Giddi is working for us, or Zens?”
“Zens, from the look of it,” Fenni said. “I just couldn’t bring myself to let him die.”
Jael laid a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t fret. I was close to blasting Starrus too, but you got there first. There’s no wizard blood on your hands. Master Starrus’ death was clearly Zens’ doing.”
Only by a hair’s breadth. He’d aimed to kill. Fenni shuddered. He still felt like a murderer.
Snarls broke out in the forest behind them.
§
An enormous dark dragon flapped in front of Maazini, blocking Tomaaz’s view. Its rider was older—which was unusual—and not a mage—which was even stranger. The man loosed an arrow, its head gleaming yellow in the sun.
It was one of those methimium arrowheads, the burrowing, cursed things.
Maazini shuddered. “I never want another one of those.”
“Neither do I.” The hate Tomaaz had felt from his dragon had been so real. Maazini would’ve killed him if he’d gotten too close.
The arrow hit Antonika, Tonio’s dragon, on the flank and burrowed into her flesh. The man shot another, which entered her shoulder. Antonika was riderless, but Tomaaz had no time to wonder where Tonio was as Antonika snarled and chased a blue guard.
Maazini tailed the dark dragon. Tomaaz whipped out an arrow as the man loosed an arrow that hit a yellow dragon in the neck. The man laughed as the beast started bucking and trying to dismount her rider. The dark dragon spun toward Maazini.
Tomaaz’s dragon dived and the enemy’s arrow went wide. The man nocked another arrow and laughed again—a familiar laugh that sent a chill down Tomaaz’s spine. He’d heard that voice before. A memory sprang to mind: Old Bill jumping on Lovina’s arm in Lush Valley to break it.
By the First Egg, no! Old Bill was on dragonback, turning dragons against their riders and kin. Tomaaz leaned low, urging Maazini to go faster. His orange dragon sped forward, tailing Bill’s obsidian dragon. Tomaaz fired, but his arrow bounced off the dark dragon’s spinal ridge, missing Bill and falling harmlessly to the forest below. He bit his lip. He had less than a handful of arrows left. Every shot had to count.
With a roar, Danion’s blue dragon, Onion, burst between them, spitting flame at Bill’s shadow dragon.
As quick as a whip, Bill fired a methimium-tipped arrow into Onion’s hide. And then another.
Tomaaz loosed an arrow that lodged in Bill’s back and knocked him forward as Bill’s third arrow plunged into Onion’s hide.
Old Bill turned. “You!” His face warped with anger. “You stole my slave.”
Tomaaz shot another arrow straight through Bill’s throat. Zens’ spy, the man who had beaten and tortured Lovina, fell from his dragon, crashing into another and another before hitting the trees below.
A green dragon swooped—Ajeurina. “Thank you,” Lovina hollered.
A dark dragon lunged for Ajeurina. “Look out!” Tomaaz yelled.
Ajeurina turned and spurted flame at the beast.
Danion’s blue was entwined, talon to belly, with another blue guard, their jaws around each other’s throats. As they bucked and twisted, Danion fell from his saddle.
“Maazini, save Danion!” Tomaaz shrieked.
They dived, but too late.
A shadow dragon blasted Danion’s body with fire. Danion lit up like a funeral pyre, plunging to the forest.
His dragon twisted and clawed the other blue guard, leaving bloody gouges.
His chest cracking, and tears blurring his vision, Tomaaz shot an arrow into Onion’s head, and then another and another, until his quiver was empty and the dragon fell limply into the trees.
Riders of Fire Complete Series Box Set books 1-6: YA Epic Fantasy Dragon Rider Adventures Page 146
