§
Zens’ excitement was barely contained, images spilling through his head with wild abandon as he neared his goal. Remaining in Zens’ mind as a silent witness, Giddi sifted through those images, his gut roiling at Zens’ intentions. The commander did not want to go through the world gate to create more tharuks. No, he could do that here. He had more devastating plans than that.
Beings made of metal with sweeping methimium gazes stalked Zens mind. They bore weapons, not bows, spears or swords, but long metal tubes with flashing lights and fire spouting from their ends. Hot yellow fire that destroyed everything in its path. These metal men moved with surprising fluidity, sweeping their weapons across masses of people, who fell to the ground, screaming, in flames. Dragons fell from the sky, felled by tharuks mounted on dark dragons. Using the same metal weapons, Zens’ monsters shot yellow streams of flame farther than any dragon could breathe fire, destroying every dragon in their path. Ash coated the trees in Great Spanglewood Forest. The snow melted from Dragon’s Teeth, leaving Dragons’ Hold a barren wasteland. Rivers were clogged with strangletons, their tendrils waving above the water and snaring any wildlife that came near. Lakes turned into stinking swamps.
And then Giddi saw Zens sitting supreme upon a large dark dragon, weapons belted at his hips, leading thousands of tharuks back through the world gate to conquer his own world.
He saw himself at Zens’ side, flying through the world gate on a shadow dragon. A strange world greeted him, with tall structures that twinkled like hundreds of stars. As far as his eyes could see, these structures spread across the surface of Zens’ world, their tiny lights glittering like diamonds. They dived lower and Giddi saw streets teeming with people in strange garb. Zens signaled him. The commander shot his weapons, making those people writhe in pain while Giddi burned them alive with his mage fire.
The shadows called him, “See, we can rule both worlds. And more. Imagine all the worlds we can conquer.”
The magic inside Giddi built, thrumming through him. It swirled around each of the methimium arrowheads, making them vibrate within his flesh.
Zens smiled at him. “See what we have in store for both of our worlds? We can rebuild these worlds, purge them of weaklings, and make new beings, strong, capable, and ready to obey. Together, we have the power to create worlds of order.”
Giddi smiled back, showing his teeth. “I do see, my honored Commander.” He bowed his head, thumping his fist over his heart. Under his fingers the teardrop vibrated.
“Good. Wait here for your instructions.”
The commander needed him. Zens couldn’t open a world gate without a mage as powerful as him. But what Commander Zens didn’t know was that Giddi had never opened a world gate on his own. No, for that, he needed Mazyka. He had closed a world gate on his own, but it was only their power combined that had opened it before. Could he do it alone? Or would Zens kill him for failing?
He remained, with his fist over his heart, awaiting Commander Zens’ instructions.
§
Taliesin ferried supplies, cleansed wounds, and bandaged injured limbs. They saved piaua juice for the worst injuries, but even then he knew they’d soon run out. More wounded riders were flooding the clearing—and injured dragons were landing too. He glanced up at the trees, seeing the glimmer of spangles on their branches—tiny sparks, flickers of hope in the forest.
Master Giddi had once told him that, although many had forgotten, Great Spanglewood Forest had been named after the spangles and their power. But how could they help in this raging battle?
Snarls shattered Taliesin’s thoughts.
Above him, a red dragon and green dragon fought with a blue, making Taliesin’s flesh crawl. Those yellow-tipped arrows had turned both dragon and rider, pitting allies against one another.
A vision opened in his mind: all the dragons in Dragons’ Realm fighting each other. Dead corpses lay heaped upon the land. The hillsides were desolate. Great Spanglewood Forest was reduced to stumps and smoking ash. If Zens had his way, the entire realm would look like Death Valley, barren and stinking. All these beautiful forests would be gone, and the riders and dragons with them.
Taliesin couldn’t let that happen. He had to stop Zens’ monsters. But how?
He stretched his mind, letting the glimmer of the spangles wash through it. He shared his vision with the tiny pinpoints of light that danced among the trees.
“We will help you,” they whispered.
But what could they do other than give him hope? A hope that would be crushed just as Zens’ forces were crushing Dragons’ Realm.
§
Adelina was sneaking through the forest, with Amato at her side, retrieving arrows for their riders’ empty quivers. Quite how her father had managed to be the one to help her, she didn’t know. But here he was, dogging her footsteps and making ingratiating comments. Not that it helped. He’d beaten her too often for her to forgive him now—with or without methimium having caused everything.
She pointed to some tharuk corpses bristling with arrows near the foot of a strongwood. “Why don’t you retrieve those?”
Without waiting for an answer, Adelina stalked through the underbrush to retrieve an arrow from a pine. Stepping over a dead tharuk, she stretched up, yanked an arrow from the pine’s trunk, and deposited it in her quiver. Then she bent and plucked an arrow from a snowdrift at the base of the tree. That’d been a wasted shot.
The tharuk had two arrows embedded in its corpse: one in its arm and another through its eye. Wrinkling her nose against the beast’s stench, she plucked the arrow from its arm, then placed her foot against the monster’s snout and her fingers around the second arrow shaft.
Nearby, a twig cracked. Adelina spun.
She snatched one of the bloody arrows, fumbling to nock it, but she was too slow. A numlock-covered arrow sped at her. Adelina ducked, and it thudded into the tree.
Four tharuks smashed their way through the underbrush, surrounding her and the pine.
Adelina’s arrow grazed the first’s ear. Her next arrow narrowly missed the second beast. She flung a knife at it, but it thudded off the monster’s breastplate and landed in the dirt. The tharuk guffawed, grinding the knife into the dirt with its boot as it ran at her, claws out. Another arrow zipped past her.
Shards! Adelina scuttled around the pine, but another beast was there. It slashed its claws, ripping her cloak. She snatched her sword from its scabbard and swung, but the beast parried it with a kick.
Tharuks sprang around the pine. Suddenly, she was outnumbered, backed up against the tree with four salivating beasts staring at her with beady red eyes, sharp claws at the ready.
“No, not my daughter!” Amato charged the monsters. Swinging his sword, he smote a beast on the neck, and it fell to the earth, blood spurting out over the patchy snow. A wiry tharuk raked its claws along Amato’s thin body. Blood welled from three gashes in Amato’s side, but he spun, hacking at the tharuk’s shoulder with his blade.
A tharuk ran at Adelina. She drove her sword into its belly. It grabbed the blade and stumbled backward, ripping the pommel from her grasp. The tharuk slumped to the ground, rasping.
Shoulder bleeding, the wiry tharuk pulled the sword out of the fallen tharuk’s gut and ran at Amato.
Another beast charged Adelina, waving its snout and tusks. She instinctively snatched at her hip to grab her knife, but her belt was empty. Shards! She dived as the tharuk neared, rolled away, then scrambled to her feet.
The beast smashed into the tree, then roared, spinning to face her. Dark blood trickled from its snout over its wicked tusks. “I gut you.” It roared again and lowered its head.
Adelina snatched her bow, whipped an arrow from her quiver, and loosed the arrow. It hit the tharuk’s snout with a meaty squelch. She released another. The beast fell to the snowy forest floor, her arrow protruding from its eye.
Her father was tiring, still fending off the wiry tharuk. Adelina trained her arrow on the beas
t, but they were lunging and moving too fast. She had to find a better angle. She raced between the trees, coming up behind the tharuk.
The beast lunged and struck Amato on the chest with her sword as Adelina let her arrow fly. It hit the back of the tharuk’s neck. The beast swung to face her. She fired another arrow. It pierced the side of the tharuk’s throat. The beast slumped to its haunches in a spray of black blood.
Amato grunted and clutched his bloody chest. He staggered a step or two and crumpled to his knees.
A snort came from behind her. Adelina whirled.
Through the bushes, yet another pair of red eyes observed them. Adelina loosed her arrow, aiming right for the center of those eyes. There was a crash and the tharuk hit the ground.
Spinning, Adelina checked the area. All clear.
She ran over to Amato and sank to her knees, cradling his head on her lap. Her father had saved her life—the man who’d beaten her bloody when she was a littling and given her brother to Zens.
Blood bubbled from the corner of Amato’s mouth. His lungs were punctured. There was nothing she could do, except comfort him.
But how could she comfort the man who’d ruined her littling years?
Maybe, with the truth. Adelina sniffed and cleared her throat. “You know, Father…” Even that was strange, calling him father. “I don’t remember much of the man you were before Zens harmed you.” Her veneer of cheerfulness and optimism cracked. The years of sorrow she’d stowed behind it trickled out.
Amato reached up to touch the tears on her cheek. She steeled herself not to flinch.
His fingers were gentle. “I know,” he said, his eyes lined with silver tears. “I’ve regretted every moment.”
One of her tears dropped onto his cheek. Glistening in the sun, it carved a clean path through the dirt and soot on his face.
She nodded. “But I can see the good in you now.”
“Thank you,” Amato murmured, bubbles foaming from the corner of his mouth. He coughed, blood splattering his shirt, then his eyes and body stilled.
Adelina sat for a moment.
Then she rose, leaving her father in the forest, determined to make Zens pay.
A Losing Battle
Roberto had been sweeping over the forest when he’d seen Adelina—and his father saving her. He called out to Adelina, but she didn’t hear him and ran into the forest with her full quivers and bow. No doubt off to fight tharuks. The battle was still raging around them, but that was his father down there dead on the forest floor. Sympathy and old hurt and anger warred in his chest.
Without him even asking, Erob landed. Roberto peeled off his opaline headband, wincing at the dark dragons’ screams.
“We should honor him,” Erob said. “For being the honorable green guard that he once was. And for saving your sister’s life.”
Roberto slid off Erob’s back and ran to Amato. Blood stained his chest. His dark eyes were unseeing, staring at the sky.
Had Amato still loved Lucia, Roberto’s mother? Had his heart still yearned for her, even as he’d died? Remorse had haunted his father for years, without Roberto even knowing he was alive.
Roberto felt bad enough about what happened between him and Ezaara when he’d been controlled by methimium. How awful Amato’s burden must’ve been—the blood of hundreds upon his hands, and destroying the very people he loved. Living alone for years in that underwater cavern, never seeing the people he loved. Knowing he’d ruined their lives.
Roberto bowed his head for a moment, closing his eyes. But for a few twists of fate, his life might have been the same.
Erob snuffled his back. “At last, you understand.”
Roberto gazed into his dragon’s golden eyes, fire lighting the sky as dark dragons wheeled above the forest. “I do.”
He lifted Amato’s body—so light. His father had been so frail, but still remarkably strong. Roberto climbed into Erob’s saddle, Pa cradled against his chest.
Erob took to the sky, winging away from the dark dragons, rising higher and higher.
Roberto melded, “I’m ready.” He slid Amato off Erob’s back.
His father’s limp body fell through the sky. Erob dived after Amato. Opening his maw, he set Amato’s body alight, flaming him until he was only ashes on the breeze.
“Father, may your spirit fly with departed dragons.” Roberto took a shuddering breath and released it. “Let’s get back down to battle.”
Zaarusha was a speck of color amongst a horde of dark dragons below. Dragons were fighting each other, riders valiantly trying to stop them. Guilt shimmied through Roberto’s belly, twisting in his gut. He’d allowed himself the luxury of grief, while his people were battling for their lives.
“You needed that time. Don’t regret it.” Erob roared and dived back down into the fray.
Roberto saw Ezaara fire an arrow at a mage. The mage countered with a volley of bright-green flame. Zaarusha swerved, ducking it.
But Zaarusha and Ezaara hadn’t seen another mage behind them with his hands outstretched. Fire bloomed at the mage’s fingertips.
Roberto screamed, “Ezaara, behind you!”
She turned.
Erob furled his wings, shooting like a spear through the sky. Roberto’s stomach flew into his throat. Oh gods, he was going to be too late.
§
Something was moving down in the forest, cresting the hill south of Mage Gate. Hans slapped Handel’s flank. “Down there.” His dragon banked to the right, speeding over the trees to take a closer look. As Handel swooped over the trees, Hans kept his bow nocked, ready for anything.
A large figure bent back saplings, leading an army of men, women and youth. Bows ready, they crept through the underbrush.
Hans squeezed his knees into Handel’s sides as Handel descended to take a closer look.
It was Giant John leading a team of warriors—probably from nearby settlements.
“Let’s say hello,” Hans called to Handel.
Handel landed on the rear side of the hill. Hans strode down through the trees. “Giant John,” he called.
Giant John, brow beaded in sweat despite the cold, wrapped Hans in a bear hug. He waved a hand at the hundreds of foot warriors cascading through the forest behind him. “We received a messenger bird from Ezaara. These men, women, and littlings from Horseshoe Bend have come to help fight Zens. Master Mage Reina and Master Archer Jerrick are from Horseshoe Bend, so the settlers are fiercely loyal.”
So many. Hans shook his head in wonder. Now it was his turn to hug Giant John. “Thank the Egg. We’ll need every one of them,” he said.
§
Leah gazed above the river, hardly able to believe her eyes. The sky was filled with gleaming brown scales. She hurried out from under the trees. With a flurry of wings, brown guards landed in the clearing near the healing post. Leah rushed over to Darynn as he dismounted.
Hoisting two large waterskins out of Rynnlak’s saddlebag, Darynn pressed them into Leah’s hands. “I know you left with enough piaua to last for months,” he said, “but here, take these, just in case.”
A lump rose in her throat and she tried to swallow. “Th-thank you. We barely have any left. Tharuks destroyed our supplies en route.” She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop her tears. Tears for those who had already fallen, for the men, women, and dragons who had bled out at her hands.
Darynn hugged her, not heeding the piaua skins between them. “Leah, whatever you’ve done has been enough,” he said. “As grim as it looks, if we all play our part, maybe we can win this battle.” He pulled away, holding her out at arm’s length. “You’re a strong young woman, Leah. No matter what happens, I want you to remember that. I thank you for giving the brown guards this opportunity to fight.” Then he was gone.
Darynn leaped onto his dragon and took to the sky with a battle cry.
The other brown dragons, many still thin and bony, shot behind him like arrows into battle.
But even as they rose into the sky
, Zens’ mages shot two with methimium-tipped arrows. They snarled, turning upon one another. A dark dragon swooped and grabbed a brown dragon’s neck in its jaws. The snap was audible. The dragon crashed through the trees. The ground shook as it landed, killing a group of injured riders who were making their way toward the healing post. Rynnlak blasted fire at the shadow dragon and they rose higher in the sky, fighting.
A hollow opened in Leah’s chest. She clutched the piaua skins tightly. Oh gods, so many people to save. So much bloodshed. Would it ever end?
§
Although they’d marched for days, Giant John fought with ferocity and vigor. Beheading tharuks and tossing their bodies aside, he waded through the horde, smashing, crunching, and slowly pushing back the dark tide of fetid stinking beasts.
Still more tharuks came at him, like a giant wave, cresting around him and his warriors. Cries rang out. Dark blood sprayed. Red blood, too, as men, women, and littlings fell, trampled by beasts. Others had their guts slashed by claws. More were felled with poisoned arrows. Still, John and his band of warriors fought. Mickel and Benno were at his side, the men’s strength lending him courage as they fought together, smashing through the tharuk troops.
But still more came. And more.
Mickel slashed a tharuk’s head from its body. Benno plunged his sword into a tharuk’s chest and kicked the beast to the ground. Yanking his sword out of the furry body, he turned. “Our warriors are being crushed like eggshells, John. But we won’t give up. Even if we’re the last ones standing at your side.”
Grim determination fueled Giant John as he drove farther, making inroads into the tharuk troop, snarls and cries echoing around him. The roars of dragons punctuated tharuk battle cries, and the tang of spilled blood was heavy in the air.
§
“Giant John is here,” Hans melded, his distant thoughts barely audible in Marlies’ mind above the screaming of the dark dragons. But she would not put her headband back on. No, these beasts would not sunder the lifelong connection that she and Hans had shared with their dragons and each other.
Riders of Fire Complete Series Box Set books 1-6: YA Epic Fantasy Dragon Rider Adventures Page 147
