Kierion pulled the waterskin off his back and tucked it in the skin fold between Riona’s hind leg and her belly. He forced the branch into the waterskin, piercing it. Riona squeezed the branch between her thigh and belly to hold it in place. Blood-beet juice flowed down her stomach and leg onto the snow.
“That doesn’t hurt, does it?” Kierion asked.
“Not a bit.”
“Almost looks real, like she’s impaled herself,” Fenni said.
“Hopefully real enough to fool those brutes,” Kierion replied. “Quick, let’s get into the trees.”
They climbed up strongwoods at the edge of the clearing, Fenni near Riona’s tail, and Kierion closer to her head. Kierion nocked an arrow. A tiny shower of sparks flitted from Fenni’s tree. “Riona, we’re ready.”
The purple dragon swished her tail in the snow, obliterating their tracks, and churned up more snow with her forelegs. She half-unfurled a wing, as if it was damaged.
“Great,” said Kierion. “Looks like you’ve been struggling.”
Riona bellowed.
It sounded like she was in pain—she was a better actor than he’d expected. “Convincing, keep it up.”
She bellowed again and thrashed in the snow, careful not to dislodge the branch still gripped between her leg and belly. “Be alert, I smell tharuk on the breeze,” she snarled in Kierion’s mind. Her visceral pleasure shot through him, making his heart race.
Gods, if she was hurt …
A lone tharuk broke into the clearing, lifting its snout to the wind and sniffing.
Oh shards, in his eagerness he’d forgotten to take freshweed. What a fool.
“Don’t worry, you’re downwind. That pathetic beast doesn’t stand a chance.” Riona whimpered and flapped her half-extended wing pathetically.
Behind the tharuk tracker, dark shapes moved among the trees. “Wait, Riona. There are more.”
“Bring them on,” Riona rumbled between sad moans. “The more, the better.”
The tracker advanced, still sniffing, getting closer to Riona with every pace. It was halfway across the clearing when the wind changed. The tracker spun, nostrils twitching.
“If it scents us, our trap’s blown,” Kierion melded.
“If you shoot early, we’ll scare off the others. I want to catch the lot, so hold tight.”
As much as it galled Kierion, Riona was right.
The tracker narrowed its eyes. “Who’s there?” it snarled.
A tharuk grunt with darker fur entered the clearing behind it. “We wants dragon meat,” it bellowed. “Stop mucking around.”
“I smell something,” the tracker snapped. “Quiet.”
The wind changed back, and Kierion sighed in relief.
“Trackers always smell something,” Dark Fur said. “I only smell you.”
Another tharuk emerged from the trees. “I hungry too.”
“Careful,” the tracker said, giving up sniffing. “Dragon still alive.”
More beasts prowled into the clearing. Forming a line, they advanced on Riona. She cowered, whimpering. Shrinking in on herself, she let out the smallest burst of flame, as if her fire power was failing. She looked tiny, not like a ferocious fire-breathing dragon.
The tharuks grew bolder. “Stinking scale heap. Got hurt, did you?” Dark Fur sneered. “Hurt more soon.”
Six tharuk archers stole out of the strongwood trees, their green-tipped arrows aimed at Riona.
Dragon gods and flames. Kierion’s mouth dried out. They had limplocked arrows. A few of those, and Riona would be dead. Lars’ words came back to him, “Don’t ever risk your dragon.” He was a sharding fool, all right, always thinking he knew best. “Riona, fly away. You can’t get hurt.”
“I risk injury every time I battle tharuks.”
“But they have limplock,” Kierion said.
“Then we’ll have to kill the archers first.”
“We could let the other tharuks get closer, so the archers are in range. But it’s too dangerous.”
“Kierion, we’ve come this far, let’s go for it.”
That sounded suspiciously like something he’d say.
Riona gave a pathetic snarl. A puff of smoke issued from her nostrils.
“Flame’s broken,” yelled Dark Fur, waving the troop forward. “Attack.”
Tharuks rushed Riona.
Before the first archer could shoot, a green fire bolt sizzled through the air, hitting a furry chest and exploding. Dropping its bow, the tharuk archer writhed in the snow.
The other archers faltered until Dark Fur roared again, “Attack. Dragon meat.”
Snarling, tharuks ran at Riona, claws extended.
As one, the tharuk archers raised their bows, but Kierion fired first. His arrow sailed through the air, hitting an archer in the eye. The beast howled, grasping its face. Kierion’s next arrow hit another tharuk’s arm. It dropped its bow. Fenni’s fireball struck a fourth archer in the head, and it ran off, fur in flames.
The remaining two archers loosed their arrows at Riona, and re-nocked their bows.
“Riona, look out. Incoming arrows.”
A plume of mage flame shot past Riona and one arrow combusted. The second arrow hit a tharuk’s back.
“Thank the Egg,” Kierion yelled aloud, then fired again.
Riona swatted two tharuks with her tail, sending them crashing into tree trunks. She opened her jaws and blasted a swathe of fire at three more monsters. The stench of burned flesh and scorched hair filled the clearing. Riona howled, this time for real, as tharuks swarmed onto her back, raking her hide with their vicious claws.
Kierion bellowed, unheard above the racket, and nocked an arrow. But he couldn’t shoot. The risk of hitting Riona was too high. So, he focused on the remaining archers. Both had crept around the sides of the clearing toward him and Fenni. Oh shards, one was aiming right at him. He fired, but his arrow went wide. The beast ran toward him, kneeling to get a better shot. Kierion scrambled further up the tree to where the foliage was denser. A tharuk arrow thwacked into a branch near his boot. Swinging onto a higher branch, he yanked his legs up and readied his bow. His hand itched for his sword, but it’d be useless up here. He fired at the archer. It ducked. His arrow whistled over its head.
Fenni’s fireballs were zipping around the clearing, targeting tharuks, but none near Riona—it was too dangerous. One sailed through the air, incinerating the archer.
Riona shook herself like a dog. The tharuks swarming over her went flying, except Dark Fur, who clung like a burr to one of her spinal ridges. She blasted more monsters with fire. “That stubborn tharuk is worse than the most annoying tic,” she said, leaping into the air. Riona tilted her body, trying to shake Dark Fur off. Feet swinging, the tenacious tharuk hung on. Pain ripped through her spinal ridge, ricocheting through Kierion’s mind, as the tharuk twisted, gouging her with its claws.
“These monsters must pay for harming our people.” Riona landed, the tharuk still clinging to her. She shredded another beast with her talons, flinging its carcass into the trees.
That was enough. Kierion scrambled down the tree and drew his sword.
“Kierion. You were supposed to stay hidden,” Riona melded.
“Hold still.” Kierion leaped onto the wide part of her tail. Running up her spinal ridges, he swarmed up her back and swung his sword at Dark Fur. The troop leader’s head flew off. A spray of dark blood rained over his beautiful dragon’s purple scales, covering their golden glimmer with a sticky slick. The tharuk’s body twitched, its claws still impaled in Riona. Kierion yanked on the body, and it came free. He tossed it to the snow. Fenni incinerated it with wizard flame.
“That mage is handy to have around, isn’t he?” Riona said. “Get in the saddle. Let’s finish these tharuks off.”
Kierion was settling in the saddle when Fenni yelled, “Duck.”
Riona sank to the ground and Kierion flung himself against her hide. An arrow dripping with limplock zipped past, ruffling h
is hair. Kierion gulped.
Riona bunched her haunches and took off, swooping over the clearing to flame the remaining handful of tharuk grunts.
When all of the beasts were dead, Fenni climbed out of his strongwood tree and sat in the snow, leaning against the trunk.
Riona landed and Kierion slid onto the snow. He grabbed a waterskin from her saddlebags and went over to Fenni while she snatched up tharuk bodies, tossing them into a pile.
“Hey, are you all right?” Kierion asked.
Fenni’s face was pale and beaded with sweat. He was breathing heavily. “So that’s what Jael meant about building up stamina before I got into battle,” he gasped.
Kierion offered him a drink and he slugged it back. Riona set the tharuks alight and paced over. Kierion scratched her eye ridges. “Are you in pain?” He needn’t have asked—he could feel it.
“A little,” Riona answered.
If only he had some piaua juice.
“I think I need to eat,” Fenni said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Could you take me to Mage Gate?”
“Sure,” said Kierion. “Riona will need healing, too. Oh, will the mages be all right, seeing a dragon?”
“They’ll have to be,” said Fenni.
“They will if I’m with you.” A man, older than Kierion’s father, with thick bushy eyebrows, came into the clearing, his wizard cloak swishing around his tall, gangly frame.
“Master Giddi,” Fenni cried. “Ah, um, good to see you. This is my friend, Kierion.”
“Your friend?” Master Giddi asked, raising an eyebrow.
“From Montanara.” Kierion shook the wizard’s hand, a tingle of magic stinging his palm.
Branches cracked behind them. Fenni and Master Giddi whirled, their hands dripping with sparks.
A Naobian ran into the clearing. “I’m glad everything’s under control,” he said, gesturing at the dark pall created by the burning tharuk pyre. “What a beautiful dragon. Such glorious scales. It’s very rare to see a rolling gold.”
“A what?” Kierion asked.
“Rolling gold, also known as golden flash. It’s what the gold shimmer in her scales is called.”
“I’m rare, did you hear that?” Riona melded. “You’d better take care of me.”
Speaking of taking care of her … “Do you happen to have any piaua juice?” Kierion asked. “She’s wounded.”
“A little.” Master Giddi nodded. “But piaua juice is the least of your troubles. I’d be more worried about finding an excuse for Master Lars when you return to Dragons’ Hold.”
Jael
By the time Kierion landed outside his new dragon rider’s cavern, it was dusk and his kitchen duties had been long fulfilled by the people he’d organized. Keeping to little-used tunnels, he managed to sneak to the infirmary. “Ah, Master Marlies, do you have a moment?” He held Jael’s sack of healing supplies against his side, with his jerkin thrown over it—a clumsy disguise, but better than walking around with a sack emblazoned with a Naobian brand.
“Are you here to see Adelina?” she asked. “Sorry, she’s back in her cavern.”
He winced. In his excitement about the skirmish, he’d missed visiting her. “Um, I’ve been busy.”
Her eyes darted to his poorly-disguised bundle. “Ah, Kierion, I need a hand moving some remedies in my alcove. Would you mind helping me?”
“Sure.” Good, she’d found an excuse for them to talk alone.
Marlies took him to the alcove at the back of the infirmary, away from the patients, and pulled the curtain shut behind them. The shelves were half empty because Fleur—the last master healer and as corrupt as a den of thieves—had destroyed so many healing herbs.
The last time Kierion had been in here was when Zaarusha had been poisoned and he’d helped Adelina and Lars search for remedies. That had been a tough night. He’d accidentally bumped Ezaara and half a bottle of tonic had shot down Zaarusha’s throat. For a moment he’d thought he’d killed Queen Zaarusha. Luckily, everything had worked out.
“These are too high for my trainee to reach easily,” Marlies said in a voice that carried. “Could you help me move them lower?” She gestured at the sack.
Kierion tossed his jerkin on a shelf and opened the mouth of the sack. “I’ve got your wizard cloak too,” he whispered, pulling out pouches of herbs, vials and jars and placing them on the shelf. Marlies was clever. The clinks and thumps really did sound like they were re-sorting her supplies. He also passed her the wizard cloak from the bottom of the sack. “Oh, here’s another one.”
“Here, hold this,” Marlies said loudly. She narrowed her eyes, whispering, “Where did you get these?”
Under her penetrating turquoise gaze, Kierion had to be honest. “From Master Giddi,” he whispered back, rushing on to distract her. “Jael couldn’t find the last sackful of herbs when you visited them.”
“Thank you, Kierion,” she said, stowing the empty sack and wizard cloaks under the shelves, out of sight. She leaned close. “Don’t get caught consorting with wizards or the council will have your hide. For the Egg’s sake, make sure you bathe before someone notices that you reek of mage flame.” She passed him a small pouch of aromatic herbs. “These might help.”
“Marlies?” a man called from the infirmary.
She peeked through the curtain and drew back in alarm, holding a finger to her lips. She slipped out. “Hello, Tonio, how can I help you?” Her voice got further away as she moved along the infirmary.
“Cut my finger helping a young dragon corps’ member to slit his seams so he could hide his clear-mind berries. Sharding nuisance, because it’s my bow finger.”
“Let’s have a look where the light is better,” Marlies replied. “I remember slitting my seams for the first time. I nearly ruined my jerkin.”
“You were one of my best in dragon corps,” Tonio said. “A shame you had to …”
Kierion hadn’t known that Marlies had been one of Tonio’s spies, years before. He slipped out while their backs were turned and hurried along the tunnels to his cavern. He’d visit Adelina straight after he’d bathed.
When he got to his cavern, the door was ajar. Had he left it that way? He didn’t think so. Hand on his sword pommel, he entered the room.
Adelina was sitting, red-eyed, on a chair next his bed.
“Adelina? What’s wrong?”
“What isn’t?” She ran to him, flinging her arms around him and burying her head in his chest. Her shoulders shook. “My brother’s been captured, I got hurt by tharuks, and you were missing. Thank the Egg, you’re all right.”
Awkwardly he patted her back, but didn’t know quite where to put his arms, so he gave her a quick hug. She was so small her head only came up to his chest. So cute, so full of life and energy—and so young. Oh, gods, what was he doing? His face warm, he pulled away.
“You smell odd,” she said, “like …” Her mouth made an ‘oh’ shape and her eyes flew wide. Her eyes fell to the small herb pouch he was carrying. “You’re not sick, are you?”
“No, I’m fine.”
He placed the pouch by his bathtub in the corner of his room. “Ah, my cavern’s not usually this messy.” Kierion busied himself, tidying up his discarded boots, breeches and a shirt. Shards, why couldn’t he stop blushing. This was silly. She was only fourteen summers and he was seventeen. There was no way—
“You’ve been with Fenni again, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” He sighed.
“I know I can’t stop you, so be careful,” Adelina said. “I don’t want to lose someone else I care about.” She gave one of her brave smiles, mock-punched him on the arm—the lightest punch he’d ever received—and marched out the door.
Kierion rubbed his arm where she’d just touched him. Someone else she cared about? A glow warmed his chest as he prepared to take a bath.
“She likes you,” Riona melded. “I told her you were all right, but she was very worried.”
“It must b
e hard, having her brother captured.”
“Harder than you’ll ever know. Have you forgotten that I can meld with other dragons? I’ve seen Erob’s memories. I know what her and Roberto have been through, and it’s far from pretty.”
§
When Kierion woke, he sprang out of bed. Shards, he’d been dreaming of holding Adelina and slept in. He yanked on his clothes and flung his cloak around him. His stomach rumbled, but he didn’t dare go past the mess cavern or the kitchens. Striding out to the snowy ledge, he melded with Riona. “Did you hunt last night?”
“Yes, but Septimor might be suspicious because he was at the hunting grounds too.”
Not good news. “Oh well, nothing we can do now. Except get going, so no one sees us.”
Once again, Kierion hid under his invisibility cloak, and they took to the sky, winging out toward Dragon’s Teeth.
“Bad news, again.”
“What?” It was hard to see with his hood pulled so low.
“Antonika is on the far ridge behind us. I’m sure she’s spotted me.”
Just his luck to be noticed by the spymaster’s dragon. “Well, she can’t see me,” said Kierion. “So we should be fine.”
A chill wind gusted from the north. His cape billowed, rising up to his knees. Shards, shards and double shards. He’d spoken too soon. “My cloak. Do you think Antonika saw me?”
“Hard to say, but Master Giddi is right, we’d better think of some mighty fine excuses before we get back, or you’ll be banned from riding me.”
“Banned?”
“The punishment for fraternizing with wizards.”
Kierion swallowed. It had only been four days since he’d imprinted with Riona, but the thought of being without her left a gaping cold hole in his stomach.
“Don’t worry, I feel the same.”
“Then why are we doing this?”
“Because we’re riders of fire. It’s our job to wipe out those infernal tharuks and send Commander Zens back to where he came from. We can’t do that without wizards.”
Riders of Fire Complete Series Box Set books 1-6: YA Epic Fantasy Dragon Rider Adventures Page 79