Lars gazed at her frankly. “I understand your concern, but if Zens had wanted to kill Roberto, he would’ve done so already. We have a war to prepare for. Master Roberto would want us to focus on the realm first, him second. As Queen’s Rider, I’m sure you understand balancing the needs of thousands against one. We will rescue him. It’s just going to take a little longer than you’d like.” Lars patted her shoulder, as if she was a littling. “Let’s prepare for imprinting. There’s a lot to do.” He followed the others out of the chamber.
Ezaara slumped back into her chair, studying the flecks in the horseshoe-shaped granite table. She’d been played by an expert. By agreeing with her so early in the council meeting, Tonio had disarmed her. Surprised, she’d laid aside all her carefully prepared arguments. And then he’d tromped in, making sure everyone was busy, preparing for war.
They’d promised to rescue Roberto in six days. She’d make sure it happened.
“Ezaara.”
She snapped her head up, unaware that anyone had remained in the chamber. “Pa?”
He paced to her chair. “You don’t seem yourself. I know you’ve the realm on your shoulders.”
She sighed. “Yes, there’s that.”
Pa put an arm around her. “I missed you yesterday. Where were you?”
So, Lars and Tonio hadn’t told anyone else.
“Zaarusha and I had urgent business.”
“You could’ve told—”
“The dragon queen approved my whereabouts,” Ezaara snapped.
His face fell.
Oh shards, she hadn’t meant to hurt Pa. “How’s Erob?” she asked, softening her voice.
“Exhausted. He’s lost a lot of blood.” Pa rubbed his hands on his breeches. “That necklace Tonio mentioned, may I see it?”
It was a gift from Roberto, personal. She hadn’t meant to wear it outside her jerkin. “Uh, I’d rather not, if you don’t mind. It’s just a trinket.”
“A trinket? I doubt it,” Pa replied. “It looked like Anakisha’s dream catcher.”
“Anakisha’s dream catcher? No, I’m sure you’re mistaken.”
“It went missing years ago. The wearer can tune into another’s mind while they’re sleeping, sensing their thoughts.” Pa shook his head. “Whoever gave it to you must’ve stolen it.”
“I don’t think—”
“Or perhaps they bought it from a market,” he said hurriedly. “I didn’t mean to disparage anyone. It could be an imitation. Who did you say gave it to you?” His brow furrowed.
“I didn’t.” Ezaara faced Pa, forcing herself to breathe steadily.
“You may be Queen’s Rider, Ezaara, but you’re still our daughter.” Pa shook his head sadly and left.
“I know.” A tear slid down Ezaara’s cheek as the double chamber doors boomed shut behind him. “But there are some things I can’t even share with you,” she whispered.
§
Lovina held the boy in her arms, the steady motion of the rocking chair comforting him. His body was all sharp angles and poky bits, but then again, so was hers. You didn’t bounce back overnight after years as a slave in Death Valley. She hummed a Flatlander tune under her breath, the one her mother had sung when she was little. Slowly, her memories were returning.
Tomaaz was out flying, training on perimeter patrol, so he’d asked her to sit with the boy.
“You’re so patient,” Ajeurina melded.
“That’s what he needs. It’s hard adjusting to all the sights and sounds after being numlocked.” She gave the rocking chair another push. “And to being loved.” That had been strange, but now a dragon in her head?
“If I ever catch Bill or those tharuks that beat you ….” Ajeurina shared an image of furry bodies being tossed into the air.
She smiled. Even though Ajeurina was in the den next door, outside the infirmary, they’d been chatting for most of the morning. The lad had been sleeping better since Tomaaz had come home, but still hadn’t spoken. Lovina kept humming Ma’s tune, breaking into the words on the second verse. The lad’s lake-blue eyes were fastened on her face the whole time.
“I’m going to hunt. Would you like to come?”
“I don’t think the boy would like it.”
“You could always ask him.”
“Good idea.” Lovina stopped singing. She was about to speak when the boy placed a hand on her cheek and hummed the refrain.
Hope surged in Lovina’s chest, making her want to shout with joy. “You want me to keep singing?”
Eyes solemn, he nodded.
She hummed a few more bars, and he joined in. “So, you know this song?”
Another nod.
Lovina barely dared breathe. “Are you from the Flatlands, too?”
“Yes.” His whisper was barely audible
“Which village?” She held her breath.
“Waykeep,” he croaked, his voice rusty.
A small village smack in the middle of the Flatlands, at the crossroads. She brushed his hair back from his eyes. “Do you remember your name?” If they knew his name, maybe they could find his family. With his family, he’d have a better chance than she’d had.
“Taliesin,” he murmured.
§
Adelina paced in her cavern. The world was too small, too confined. She wanted to hammer the stone and burst through the mountain. Grief and fear sunk their talons into her innards, twisting them. She needed to run, scream—something.
Shards, she was supposed to be at the imprinting grounds soon. No dragon would choose her. Zaarusha hadn’t. What if she just wasn’t dragon rider material?
Roberto had always told her she’d find a dragon, but with him captive to Zens, the world felt like a dangerous place, a place where the future couldn’t be trusted, where her smile wasn’t bright enough to overcome her troubles.
Dragon’s claws! Now she was sniffing. Adelina backhanded a tear and tugged on her boots, yanking the laces hard. Zens had ruined her family: stolen her father, her brother, her mother’s life and now her brother again. But what could she do? She was just Adelina, the little sister of a master on the council. She’d never be able to make Dragons’ Realm a better place. For years she’d fooled herself that her smile and her bubbly attitude would make a difference—and it had, for Roberto, during his darkest moments. Now, he was gone.
She flung herself on her bed. The last thing she felt like was seeing a bunch of people. And that was saying something. Usually she, Kierion and Lofty were the life and soul of the party.
Adelina pummeled her pillow. Moping wasn’t going to fix anything. She’d find a sharding smile if it killed her. She strode to her door and flung it open, coming face to face with Mara, who had her hand raised to knock. Leah was behind Mara, brow creased with worry.
“Oh, uh, come in,” Adelina said.
“Adelina, we’re glad you’re here.” Mara dragged Leah through the doorway. “Snake-tongue’s gossip is getting worse.”
Adelina pulled them inside, then shut the door. “What’s going on. Is it about Ezaara?”
Mara’s eyes were wide. “Yes, Sofia is saying she’s vicious and can’t be trusted. There’s talk of how she attacks trainees with knives and worse.” Mara nudged Leah. “Tell her what you heard.”
Leah nervously tucked her blonde hair behind her ear. “You know I’m helping the master healer in the infirmary now, right?”
Adelina nodded.
“Ezaara came in, looking for healing supplies this morning. After she left, a patient said Snake-tongue had told him Ezaara had poisoned the queen herself, only pretending to rescue her.”
A surge of hot rage blasted through Adelina’s chest. “Lies! I helped the Queens’ Rider save Zaarusha. I was with Kierion when he found the remedy.” She wanted to punch Snake-tongue’s smarmy face. She and Sofia had been good friends until the accident. Overnight, everything had changed. It was awful, like Sofia had been magicked into being nasty.
“Kierion found the remedy?” asked Le
ah.
“Ezaara figured out what remedy was needed and sent Kierion to find more, but that’s not the point,” said Adelina. “That guttersnipe is ruining everything.”
“We have to do something,” said Mara.
The door burst open. Gret and Lovina barreled in. “Oh, sorry, we didn’t realize you had company,” Gret said.
“What is it?”
“Just something we heard.” Lovina’s eyes flitted to Mara and Lara.
“It’s all right. They were just letting me know the latest gossip that Snake-tongue was spouting.”
“Oh, good,” said Gret. “That’s what we wanted to see you about too. Sofia’s saying Ezaara poisoned Zaarusha.”
“The girls said so. Keep your eyes and ears peeled. Once we know what’s going on, we’ll tell Lars.”
“We have to write down what’s been said,” Gret said. “Lars always wants evidence.”
Mara and Leah nodded. “We can do that,” Leah said. “I’ll get a quill and paper from the infirmary.”
“Right, we’d better get to the imprinting grounds or Alyssa will be wild.” Adelina gazed at Lovina, suddenly awkward. How awful. Her and Gret were in the imprinting group but Lovina wasn’t. “I’m sorry, Lovina, I wish you could come too.”
Lovina’s thin face lit up, like sun reflecting off a lake. “I don’t need to. I imprinted with Ajeurina yesterday. I’m already a dragon rider.”
Gods, in her self-pity-fueled state, Adelina hadn’t even realized.
Dragons
Master Alyssa raised her arm, motioning for the trainees to be quiet.
Kierion elbowed Lofty. “Ssh.”
The hubbub in the training cavern died down.
“I apologize on behalf of Roberto, master of mental faculties and imprinting. He cannot be here today. As flight master I am here in his stead.”
There’d been rumors that Roberto had been away on council business. Kierion hadn’t seen him for at least a moon and a half. Tomaaz had been with him, but he’d recently returned, so surely Roberto would be back soon.
Adelina and Gret hustled in, late.
Kierion winked to greet Adelina. She barely raised an eyebrow in return. Over the last few days, she’d been distant and withdrawn—ever since the prank with the arrows. Was she mad at him over that? Surely not. Maybe Adelina was missing her brother. Or maybe she was mad at him for something else. Kierion racked his brains to think what he could’ve done to annoy her, but came up blank.
He yawned. Doing double kitchen duty and extended training was wearing him out. Shards, everyone was raising their hands and he hadn’t been paying attention. He shot his hand up, too, so he wouldn’t stand out.
“All right, Kierion,” said Master Alyssa, waving him to the front with a flourish. “You may demonstrate first.”
Demonstrate what? Kierion shot a panicked glance at Lofty, who mimed eating. What was that about?
“Please, Kierion, show the class how it’s done.”
He thought fast. “Perhaps you could recap the step beforehand, Master Alyssa, just to refresh everyone. And then I’ll show them, of course.”
Alyssa laughed, shaking her head, her dark plaits swinging. “Recap imprinting? I don’t think you were listening.”
If word of this got back to Master Lars, he’d be dragon toast. What should he—
Lofty was surreptitiously miming eating again.
Of course! Kierion pretended to place something on his palm, and held it out flat. “Although it’s not necessary, feeding a newly-imprinted dragon helps to cement your bond. Hold your palm flat, like when you feed a horse, or toss scraps into the air for the dragon to catch.” He mimed tossing food to the trainees. Lofty caught an imaginary morsel, chomping it down. Oops, they’d better not get too carried away. “Is there anything else, Master Alyssa?”
“Thank you, Kierion.” As he re-joined the class, Master Alyssa added, “Of course, I asked you all that quick question for Kierion’s benefit, because he wasn’t listening. Pay attention now, all of you, please.”
Lofty sniggered. “She got you there.”
Ears hot, Kierion nodded, not daring to take his eyes off their instructor.
“The imprinting grounds are a place where many dragons and riders can meet to see if they form an instant bond. Not everybody will bond with a dragon today. Remember, imprinting can happen anywhere, anytime.” Alyssa paced before them. “For example, Ezaara and Zaarusha imprinted in the forest in Lush Valley, an area dragons hadn’t visited for years.”
One of the arrow flingers put up his hand. “Is it true that people from Lush Valley used to hate dragons?”
“Yes, many years ago they had a settlement arbitrator who had a grudge against dragons, so he raised his son and grandson in the same vein. Once our honored Queen’s Rider imprinted, dragons went back to Lush Valley to help save its people from tharuks. They understand our intentions are good now. Ezaara and Zaarusha have changed Lush Valley attitudes for the better. Let’s hope the outcomes of your bonds with your dragons are as productive. Any more questions?”
Soon, they were heading along the tunnels to the old door that led to the imprinting grounds. Kierion had only been there once before, when he’d helped save Zaarusha from poison, and he’d flown up, so he’d never seen this narrow tunnel.
Lofty was at Kierion’s side as they negotiated the uneven rocky stairs that wound up through the mountain. Torches sputtered in their sconces, the light flickering over the trainees in front of them. Some had been training for months, like Sofia, Alban, Gret, Henry and Rocco. Others were only new, like him and Lofty, but they were all here for one thing: dragons. With tired legs, Kierion trudged upward, yawning again.
“Too much kitchen duty,” Lofty teased.
“Well, you’re helping in the kitchen too. Aren’t you tired?”
“No, I snatch a snooze between training and dinner.”
“Brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?” Ahead of him, a girl stumbled. Kierion leapt forward to steady her.
“Thanks, Kierion.”
Thanks to his arrow prank, everyone knew his name, but who was she?
Behind him, Lofty was now walking with another trainee. “Do you mind if I pass?” Kierion flashed a smile at the girl and she let him past. He bounded up the stairs and caught up with Adelina, falling in alongside her. “Bit of a steep climb, isn’t it?” he asked.
“I hadn’t noticed.” Her voice was flat, disinterested.
So, she was mad at him. Kierion sighed. “Whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry, Adelina. Sometimes I upset people without realizing.”
She stared at him. “Not everything’s about you, Kierion.” She pushed up the stairs, past people, to get ahead.
What? For a moment, Kierion stopped, dumbfounded. Someone behind bumped into him. He spurted up the stairs after her, saying, “Excuse me,” and “Thanks for letting me pass,” until he reached Adelina.
Something glimmered on her cheek in the torchlight. She was crying.
So, it wasn’t about him. Something must be up with her brother or a friend. Or maybe she was just sad. Kierion walked with her in silence up a few more stairs, then gave her hand a quick squeeze to let her know he understood. To his surprise, she gripped his hand fiercely, not letting go as they wound their way upward through the stone.
Something splashed onto the back of his hand. Another tear. He squeezed her hand tighter and kept walking. As it started to get lighter, she gave him a wan smile and whispered, “Thank you.”
Adelina released his hand, scrubbing her cheeks with her sleeve, and pasted a bright smile on her face. “I’m all right now.”
Who did she think she was fooling? She looked terrible.
Then her face changed. Eyes bright, she smiled—a genuine smile. “Can you feel it?” Adelina asked, her voice filled with wonder.
What? Kierion shrugged.
And then he felt it. His tiredness vanished. Excitement pulsed through his veins. He wanted to run straight up th
e stairs onto the plateau.
“It’s the dragons. Come on.” Adelina snatched up his hand again, and they raced up the stairs.
Out on the plateau, Kierion’s heart pounded. The sky beyond was filled with flapping wings, sinuous necks and dragon maws shooting tiny flames of excitement. Scales flashed in the sun: emerald, copper, scarlet, violet, mustard, orange, blue and more. The whole sky seethed with color.
With thuds, dragons landed in the snow, flurries eddying with their wingbeats.
And then Kierion saw her. His dragon. His heart exploded wide open, and a rush of love enveloped him. He was swept up in a river of feeling, his feet moving effortlessly toward this golden-eyed beauty out on the plateau. Her purple scales glinted with gold specks as she approached him.
“Kierion, you were born to be my rider.”
No one had told him that imprinting was like this—a rush of emotion so intense, it could sweep you away; a harmony so sweet, you could cry; a dragon so exquisite, you’d give your life for her. “How did you know my name?”
“Since your prank with the arrows, all the dragons know your name. It caused quite a stir, you know.”
Kierion’s ears went red, yet again. “What’s your name?”
“I shall now be named Riona, in your honor—because it’s an honor to have a rider like you.”
“L-like me?”
Then Kierion had the oddest moment of his life—and he’d had plenty of odd moments. He saw himself as Riona did: tall, lean, with a shock of blond hair and blue-gray eyes. Pretty sea eyes, his Ma had called them. But it wasn’t his features that were strange; it was his face, etched with love as he gazed at his new friend.
He touched her snout. Her scales were warm and as supple as worn leather. He scratched her eye ridges, and she thrummed, like a purring cat. A shot of vicious pleasure ripped through his mind with an image of Riona devouring a cat. Her lip curled back and her fangs glinted.
“You’re smiling.” Kierion laughed. “You have a sense of humor, too.”
“And I like pranks, as much as you.”
Master Alyssa approached, holding a bowl of meat scraps.
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