Zens licked his lips. Now, that was the perfect plan.
§
The tunnels echoed with thumping and snorts. The stench of tharuk crept along the shaft toward Roberto and Adelina. He crawled on, every strike of his palms and knees ricocheting through his battered body. One arm gave out. His face hit stone. He couldn’t go on.
“Come, on, you can do it,” Adelina whispered, voice trembling.
He had to. For Adelina. For Ezaara. Gods, Zens had ruined him.
Adelina hoisted him to his elbows, half dragging him along the shaft.
A low snarl made the hair on Roberto’s neck rise. He forced his clumsy, broken body on. The snarls grew louder. Closer. “Flee,” Roberto whispered. “Leave me and flee.”
Adelina shook her head, yanking him forward. They crept around a corner.
Tusks gleamed among a mass of dark fur.
Adelina screamed. She kicked and fought, but the wall of tusks and fur dragged her off.
Pain seared through Roberto’s leg. “Got you,” the tharuk behind him snarled, digging its sharp claws in, and hauling him backward, away from his sister.
§
The door opened. Ezaara glanced up. Was Zens returning? No, it was 000 with tharuk grunts. They dragged someone inside. The shrotty beasts had recaptured Adelina. The grunts manhandled Roberto inside too, and left, slamming the heavy door.
Roberto swayed, then crumpled to the floor. Ezaara scooted over, cradling his head in her lap. She didn’t care what Zens thought anymore—or anyone else. “I love you, Roberto.” She was sick of denying it. Strange that she could show her love for him here, in Death Valley, but not at Dragons’ Hold. When they returned, that would change.
If they returned.
The odds weren’t great, but she refused to give up. She was Queen’s Rider. Roberto was a master. They had to get back and lead their people. “Adelina, are you all right?” she whispered.
“No,” Adelina whimpered. Neck still covered in scratches, Adelina crawled over, and leaned against Ezaara’s side, shaking. “Reminds me of Pa … beating us.”
Ezaara put her arm around Adelina’s shoulders. With the other hand, she stroked Roberto’s hair. Eyelids fluttering, he looked up, then drifted to sleep. “Adelina,” she whispered, “I’ve always wanted a sister. I found one in you.”
“Me too,” said Adelina, tears tracking down her face as she gazed at her broken brother. “Is there anything we can do for him?”
“Yes, I still have a little piaua, but we’ll have to heal him discreetly, so Zens doesn’t notice.”
Ezaara peeked in her pouch. All of her vials were smashed. Useless. “We’ll let him sleep a little, first,” she lied. Ezaara felt awful, but the flash of hope on Adelina’s face was worth it—even if they never got out of here alive.
§
The door to the holding cell thudded open. Roberto roused himself, sitting up. 000 and a bunch of tharuk grunts entered. He squeezed Ezaara’s warm hand.
“You two,” 000 said, indicating the women. “Zens has changed his mind. You both go free. Tharuks will escort you.”
“No,” said Ezaara. “We’re not going without Roberto.”
“Please,” Roberto managed weakly. “Go.” Gods, they’d come to save him. And failed. Was Zens really setting them free? Or sending them to the slave camps? Either way, they had more chance of escaping if they weren’t with him. His life was forfeit anyway. Zens had marked him from a young age. He’d been lucky—with what he’d been through, he should’ve died already, many times over.
“Roberto, no.” Tharuks dragged Adelina away, her screams bouncing off the walls, hammering through Roberto’s skull.
“Better to go quietly,” Roberto called. Better for her to give in to tharuks? Gods, this place had driven him mad.
Ezaara squeezed his hands. “I love you, Roberto. We’ll be back,” she whispered, then tharuks ripped her from his weak grasp.
“No, don’t risk your life for me. It’s not worth it,” he replied. Zens was probing at the edge of his mind, evaluating him.
A grunt shoved Ezaara. She walked, head high, eyes on him.
He’d learned to love and he was losing it all. And he’d led the new Queen’s Rider, with all her unique talents, right into Zens’ lair. His sister too. He was worse than useless, he was dangerous. When people loved him, they got hurt.
What was Zens going to do with them? Would he break them too? Torture them? Make them senseless pawns, shells of themselves, hurting others on Zens’ behalf?
As they pushed Ezaara to the doorway, Roberto was desperate to mind-meld with her, one last time, to tell her he loved her. Tell her he was sorry. But he couldn’t. He’d risk Zens breaking through her mental defenses. He’d failed in everything he’d dreamed of, and once again become a pawn in Zen’s hands. Hot tears slid down his cheeks, washing salt, grime and blood over his lips.
Then the door slammed, locking out the only people he loved.
He curled on the floor, sobs wracking his body.
§
Oh, Gods, no. Ezaara’s chest ached. Zens had succeeded. Roberto’s body and spirit were broken. He’d wept unashamedly, despair etched in every bloody, battered pore, as tharuks had hustled her out the door. Zens had been pummeling her mind, so she hadn’t dared meld with Roberto, but, inside, she was screaming his name. Throat tight, she vowed she’d get revenge on that shrotty rat, Zens, for hurting those she loved.
For enslaving her people. For destroying all they loved. Anger seared through her. Zens must die and all his tharuks with him.
But right now, she was only one dragonless rider against a monster and his troops. Bitterness flooded her mouth. She’d been a fool to think she could’ve rescued Roberto. Just as much a fool for thinking she could have revenge.
A tharuk troop surrounded her and Adelina, rushing them out of the tunnels. Ezaara winced, bright sunlight hitting her eyes. Adelina clutched her hand as they trekked along the valley floor, dust stirring underfoot. The barren hills were riddled with caves, like gaping maws, with lines of slaves trooping into the hillside’s underbelly. More tharuks tromped past, cracking whips at herds of slaves. A young girl, as thin as a slip of parchment, stumbled. A tharuk whipped her, but she didn’t even flinch as her tattered rags and skin split under the bite of the lash.
Ezaara tensed, about to protest, but Adelina gripped her hand, and whispered, “No, Ezaara, they’ll kill us if we interfere. We must escape and get help.”
Ezaara bit back her retort. Escape? Help? Who was Adelina fooling? This was Death Valley.
The tharuk booted the fallen girl. “Dead,” it called. “To the flesh pile. You, there.”
A male slave shambled forward, eyes vacant and jaw hanging open. He hefted the girl onto his shoulder, then stumbled off down the valley.
Adelina’s grip bit into Ezaara’s hand. Thank the Egg. The pain was stopping her from screaming.
Their tharuk escorts crowded around them, herding them along the valley past groups of half-starved slaves—many with fingers, hands or ears missing. All staring at the ground, mindless. Gods, Tomaaz had been here—Roberto, Lovina, Ma and Taliesin, too. No wonder the boy hadn’t spoken for so long.
“Faster,” the lead tharuk bellowed, glancing nervously at the sky.
Ezaara snapped her head up. Was that a flash of orange? Maazini?
Adelina glanced up too, hope flickering across her face.
Their tharuk troop drew their bows and fired. Thank the First Egg, their arrows fell short. “Get higher. To the hills,” the troop leader barked.
Keeping Ezaara and Adelina in their midst, the tharuks swarmed up a steep trail. Adelina stumbled, and Ezaara pulled her upright. These beasts were fast. If they didn’t keep up, they’d be trampled. Was Maazini alone?
Ezaara melded, “Maazini, can you see us? Adelina and I are in the middle of a tharuk troop, heading up a hill.” She squinted at the sky. Was that another dragon up there?
“Ezaara? I see t
he troop. We’ll have you out in no time.”
If only it were that simple—there were hundreds of tharuks to get through. “Thank the Egg, you’re here. Is Zaarusha with you?”
“No, just Riona.”
Kierion? Thank the dragon gods that reckless fool and Tomaaz were daring enough to come to Death Valley.
The tharuks stopped halfway up the hill. Shoving Ezaara and Adelina behind a rocky outcrop, they fired arrows at Maazini. He swerved, dancing out of reach, then swooped, drawing more fire. “Are you behind that rock?” Maazini asked.
“Just me and Adelina. Roberto’s still captive.”
Maazini’s answering snarl seared Ezaara’s mind. “When I give the order, drop to your bellies.”
Nerves tight, Ezaara waited for Maazini’s signal. More tharuks swarmed up the hillside, eager to kill the dragons with their limplocked arrows. How could Tomaaz and Kierion ever get them out of this mess?
“Now. Duck!”
She thrust Adelina to the ground, saying, “Cover your head.”
Ezaara peeked around the rock. A bolt of purple shot through the sky—Riona! Green fireballs zipped from her back, hitting screaming tharuks. Maazini’s scales flashed as he flamed tharuks. Arrows hit beasts. Tharuks fell, blasted by wizard flame.
“Ezaara, stay down,” Maazini called. “Riona, now.”
“Gladly,” Riona answered.
The dragons opened their maws. Ezaara yanked her head behind the rock as a wave of heat hit the outcrop. Tharuks crackled with flame, the stink of their burned fur crawling up Ezaara’s nostrils. Shrieks and bellows rang out. Dragon roars filled the air. Flashes of yellow and green light glanced off the hillside.
Then there was silence.
Ezaara risked peeking out. Dead tharuks were scattered across the hill, green and yellow flames licking at their fur. A pall of black and green smoke hung in the air. She scrambled to her feet, hoisting Adelina up.
“Wizard fire.” Adelina’s voice cracked. “Kierion and Fenni are here.”
Roars echoed from the valley and more tharuks surged up the hill.
“Quick, Maazini.”
“Stand far apart. We’re coming to collect you.”
Ezaara dragged Adelina past smoking bodies, coughing on the foul smoke-laden air. “Adelina, brace yourself.”
With a sickening lurch, Maazini grabbed Ezaara in his talons and they were sky-bound. Riona snatched up Adelina.
An aching, empty hole gaped in Ezaara’s chest as they ascended, fleeing tharuk arrows. Leaving Roberto behind.
Retaliation
The air reeked of mage fire. The godforsaken stuff clung in Zens’ nostrils. Green smoke wafted across the hillside above the carnage of Zens’ dead troops, carrying the stench of burned flesh. A pair of dragons were fleeing over the Terramites—one of them was the orange specimen he’d captured. It didn’t matter that the dragon had escaped months ago. Zens had harvested its DNA long before. But it was worrying that mages and dragons were working together again. Years ago, he’d driven a bitter wedge of mistrust between dragon riders and mages, deep enough for them to hate each other forever.
When tharuks had reported dragons overhead, he’d deliberately brought the girls into the open. By rescuing them, the fools had played into his hands.
His slow smile turned to a grimace. A hundred stinking corpses littered the mountainside. He’d been prepared to sacrifice a few tharuks in a pathetic skirmish. But this? Fury roiled inside him at his wasted troops. Someone would pay.
Zens faced his assembled tharuks. “A hundred tharuks have died defending Death Valley. Those stinking dragon riders and mages did this. Will we let them get away with this carnage?”
His troops roared.
“We will avenge them,” Zens bellowed, rousing their bloodlust. “000 will take a troop to execute a hundred slaves.”
“Yes, sir.” 000 and his troop marched down the valley, their feet stirring up dust that mingled with mage smoke.
“Tharuk 766, take a raiding party and scour Spanglewood Forest for a hundred more slaves to replace them.”
“My pleasure, sir,” tracker 766 answered, tusks salivating.
766’s troop raced up the rocky mountainside, stomping over dead tharuks in their eagerness to hunt humans. Zens smiled. He’d trained them well.
“967, come here. The rest of you, clean up those corpses. Throw them onto the tharuk flesh pile. When you’re done, I want everyone on lockdown. Sleep in the slaves’ huts tonight. No one is allowed out in the valley. And post no lookout.”
“Yes, Commander,” the tharuks said as one, pounding their fists on their chests. They traipsed up the hill to gather the dead.
967, a wiry tharuk with an affinity for crows, approached. “Commander, how I help?” It wrung its hands.
His grunts’ lack of language skills was irritating at times. “Send crows to the tharuk troop leaders, telling them to kill all the wizards in Spanglewood Forest. Raze their homes and destroy their young, but bring me back two captives.”
“Kill all wizards. Bring two back.”
He mind-melded, showing a face to 967. “And 967, tell them I want Master Giddi alive.”
§
Hours after tharuks had taken Ezaara and Adelina, 000 returned to the holding cell, waking Roberto from a broken, hollow sleep.
“Commander Zens wants to see you.” 000 grabbed Roberto in a headlock.
As if he could put up a fight. He was a shadow of himself.
000 dragged Roberto along tunnels, his head wedged under the tharuk’s stinking armpit. When they reached the tunnel mouth, it was dark outside and the air was tinged with bitter smoke. The tharuk adjusted its grip, slipping its arm over Roberto’s shoulders so he could walk upright. Roberto wasn’t fooled. 000’s sharp claws could shred him in an instant.
They crossed the deserted, barren valley. Moonlight bathed a blackened mountainside. It had been burned. His throat tightened. They hadn’t incinerated Ezaara and Adelina, had they? That made no sense, but then again, Zens’ actions seldom did.
Mist crept out of mining pits in the barren hillsides, writhing around his ankles. Zens had destroyed all the vegetation in this valley while mining yellow crystals. Before being caught, Roberto had infiltrated a mining crew so he could snoop, and he’d frequently seen Zens entering a large cavern with a door of stone. Is that where Zens was making his new creatures? Were they heading there now?
Sure enough, 000 took him underground. Dim torches lit the walls as the track sloped down, narrowing as they went. The acrid stench of the mines hit Roberto’s nostrils, making his eyes water. He blinked, trying to clear them as 000 marched him deeper into the network of mines. Every footstep jarred his head.
“The commander has something special in store for you,” 000 said.
The vapor rising to greet him made his head throb. Where were Adelina and Ezaara? He doubted Zens had let them go. He trudged on, keeping his thoughts submerged.
000 took a shadowy turnoff that spiraled down until they came to a large stone that blocked the tunnel. This was where Roberto had seen Zens go. 000 pressed on the stone, and it rolled sideways, revealing a large chamber lit with a yellow glow.
Workbenches and tools similar to Zens’ parents’ workshop littered the room. Dark furry blobs were floating in glass tanks lining the far wall, illuminated by large yellow crystals. Beyond the tanks, bright light poured from another chamber.
000 shoved Roberto forward. “We’re here,” he said. “Enjoy your stay.”
A familiar voice spoke behind him. “Welcome, my protégé.”
He spun. Zens was leaning against a recessed counter, the yellow light tingeing his sallow face. “000, please bind him to worktop four.”
000 flung Roberto onto a bench. Roberto thrashed, but 000 bound his chest, hands and ankles to the bench with metallic bands. Zens forced a clear flexible tube between Roberto’s lips while 000 lifted his head.
Roberto clenched his teeth, blocking the tube from
entering his mouth.
“Suck,” commanded Zens.
Roberto refused. 000 pinched his nose with its stinking furry hands. His lungs burned.
“Suck, I said.” Zens bulging eyes drilled into him. A dull band of pressure tightened around Roberto’s head. He fought to block Zens out. The pressure spread across his skull, unclenching his jaw. Zens rammed the tube into his mouth, smiling, his yellow orbs drilling into Roberto.
Roberto sucked in bitter air and blacked out.
§
Roberto groaned as he awoke, face down. Mustard light reflected off the cool metal beneath him. His back was sore. What had Zens done to him? He moved his legs. Wait, his restraining bands were gone. He rolled over and sat up.
No one was in the room. Zens wasn’t pounding at his head either. He cautiously reached out with his mind, searching for Zens and found nothing. What was going on? Roberto swung his legs over the bench and slid to the floor. He wouldn’t be alone forever—Zens or 000 could return any moment. He should escape, but first …
His queen had sent him here to find out what creatures Zens was developing—he may never get another chance. Heart pounding, Roberto crept toward the entrance to the inner chamber and peeked inside.
The room dwarfed this one, easily five times larger. Zens stood at a counter, his back to Roberto, working with strange metal implements. Hundreds of tanks, large enough to fit a man in, stood in rows, with workbenches between them. Tharuks were mixing things in bowls and sprinkling some sort of dust into the water in the tanks. What was inside? More furry blobs, some with legs. Roberto squinted. That was a tusk. There were some claws …
By the dragon gods’ First Egg, they were tharuks. Sweat pebbled his skin. Zens grew them in these tanks.
Commander Zens and his tharuks were dwarfed by more tanks—as large as houses—along the back wall. Weird black creatures were suspended in fluid, curled up, with ragged bits of cloth hanging from them. These must be Zens’ secret weapon—the creatures Zaarusha had sent him to find out about.
Although they were illuminated by glowing crystals at the bottom of their tanks, it was hard to see what they were. Roberto lingered, trying to get a better look. One of the creatures moved, and something white flashed. A tusk or a horn? Was that a tail or a limb? The cloth around the beast swirled, preventing him from seeing more.
Riders of Fire Box Set Page 89