Riders of Fire Complete Series Box Set books 1-6: YA Epic Fantasy Dragon Rider Adventures

by Eileen Mueller

  Kierion laughed. “Magical, yes. Story tellers, no. But I’ve never seen one.”

  A door opened and a tall gangly man, with the bushiest eyebrows Tomaaz had ever seen, strode across the snow to greet them, his mage cloak creating eddies of snow. A Naobian wizard, about Tomaaz’s age, kept pace with him, while Kierion’s friend, Fenni, jogged after him.

  “I’m Master Giddi,” said the mage. “Are you Marlies’ boy?”

  The wizard’s grip was firm with more than a trickle of magic zapping across Tomaaz’s hand. “Yes, I am.”

  “Why’s the lad so round-eyed?” Fenni asked Kierion and Tomaaz.

  Tomaaz shrugged. “He’s been in Death Valley for so long, he hasn’t seen a forest in ages.”

  A deep belly laugh broke out from Master Giddi. “He’s a seer, that one.” He gestured at Taliesin.

  “Yes, we’ve discovered his gift,” answered Tomaaz. How did the master mage know?

  Giddi knelt before Taliesin and looked him in the eye, wriggling his eyebrows like large hairy caterpillars. “They’re spangles, lad. Aren’t they fascinating?”

  “Where?” Fenni glanced around. Tomaaz and Kierion craned their necks, searching too.

  Jael laughed now. “You mean, none of you have ever seen them?”

  “What’s going on?” asked Tomaaz.

  Master Giddi smiled. “All around you. Those shimmering beings in the trees.”

  Fenni’s face lit up. “Kierion, I saw them that time you got knocked out by tharuks.”

  Tomaaz had no idea what they were looking at—he couldn’t see a thing.

  “What?” thundered Giddi, glaring at Fenni. “You told me Kierion was hurt, but not that he was knocked out!”

  §

  It was pitch black when Tomaaz and Taliesin returned home. They’d ended up staying overnight at Mage Gate and fighting tharuks the next day, after sending a message home to Ma and Pa via a passing blue guard. Now they were dog-tired, although Taliesin was the bubbliest Tomaaz had ever seen—almost like he’d never been enslaved. Kierion had been right, the trip had done him good, despite them battling tharuks. Tomaaz dropped Taliesin on the infirmary ledge and Ma took him inside.

  “Let’s go and find Ezaara. The council doesn’t approve of us fighting with mages, but maybe as Queen’s Rider she can influence them.” They flew across the basin. Tomaaz patted Maazini’s neck as they touched down on the ledge outside Zaarusha’s empty den. “Great job today, Maazini. You’ve recovered well. Twenty tharuks was a good hunt.” His dragon furled his wings and he slid from the saddle, thunking to the ground. “And my hip’s good again too.”

  “Twenty-two tharuks actually, while you only killed ten.”

  “Hey, great swathes of fire are much more efficient than arrows, so you have an unfair advantage.”

  “And the mages?”

  “They have an unfair advantage too,” said Tomaaz, digging strips of dried beef out of Maazini’s saddlebags and feeding them to him. Tomaaz ate one, too. “Wizard fire is pretty potent, so, all in all, I think every kill of mine should equate to three or four of yours and theirs.”

  “Four to one?” Maazini blinked a large golden eye. “Two to one is the best you’ll get.”

  “All right, so my ten to your twenty-two, still means I’m only one down.”

  “I’m not a numbers dragon,” Maazini snorted. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Tomaaz laughed. “I’ll see if Ezaara agrees with us about fighting with mages. If she’s keen, we’ll go straight to Lars.”

  “I’ve tried to meld with Zaarusha, but I can’t sense her.”

  “That’s odd, it’s so late.” Not that it being dark would ever stop Ezaara going out. He’d seen her out with Zaarusha when she couldn’t sleep, while he’d been roaming the mountainside feeling bad about leaving Roberto in Death Valley. “I’ll just be a moment.”

  Ezaara’s cavern was empty. A few of her clothes were tossed across the bed. Her healer’s pouch was gone. So were her boots, weapons and cloak.

  Maazini melded with him. “I’ve checked with the blue guards and other dragons. No one’s seen Ezaara or Zaarusha since the feast. They’d assumed they were resting”

  “That was two days ago. Where could she be?” As Tomaaz ran to the ledge, he knew the answer—sick of the council’s inaction, Ezaara had taken matters into her own hands and gone to Death Valley. By the dragon gods, he’d told her he’d rescue Roberto if the council didn’t, but he’d forgotten all about it.

  §

  Kierion banged on Lars’ door. He shuffled from foot to foot until Lars opened it, and then burst into the living area. “Adelina’s disappeared.” He clenched and unclenched his fists, wanting to punch something. Why had he delayed coming back to Dragons’ Hold a day, to hunt a few more tharuks? Sure, he’d been saving lives, but it was meaningless if he lost Adelina.

  Lars’ gaze was sharp. “When did you last see her?”

  “At the race celebration, but something wasn’t right. I’ve, um, been away since. She’s not here. No one’s seen her since the feast.” Lars raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth, but Kierion interrupted, “And I mean no one! You know me, Lars, no stone unturned.”

  “Yes.” Lars’ voice was wry. “You are thorough.”

  Kierion nodded, waiting.

  “Did she say anything about Roberto?” Lars asked.

  “Only that it was hard with him gone, him being her only family and all.”

  Lars scratched his beard. “She could have gone after her brother.”

  “Why haven’t you gone after him?”

  “There are bigger things at stake.” Lars was hedging. “We believe Roberto could still be gathering information vital to the realm, despite the circumstances.”

  “We can’t let Adelina go to Death Valley on her own.”

  “I’ll have to talk with Tonio and Aidan, master of battle, before we decide what action to take.”

  From Lars’ tone, it wasn’t likely he’d take action. Kierion thrust his clenched fists behind his back.

  “Now, Kierion,” Lars said. “You mentioned you’ve been away since the feast. You didn’t happen to visit two particular young wizards at Mage Gate against my orders, did you?”

  “I—” Kierion was saved by a sharp rap at the door.

  When Lars opened it, Tomaaz strode in. “Master Lars, Ezaara and Zaarusha are gone.”

  Lars’ brow furrowed. “Kierion, Tomaaz, please, take a seat.”

  Tomaaz’s body was taut as he perched on the front of his chair. “Ezaara was at the opening of the feast, but then she left and no one’s seen her since.”

  “And Zaarusha?”

  “Gone too.”

  “What? No queen and no Queen’s Rider!” Lars paced back and forth. “That’ll give the gossips a feast.”

  Last time Ezaara had disappeared, she’d gone to the Wastelands to save Master Roberto. There were already rumors that they cared about each other, the way Kierion cared for Adelina. When she’d returned, the queen had been poisoned. No doubt, Zaarusha would never let her go into danger alone again. No, they were a truer partnership than ever. His strong bond with Riona was a pale shade of what the queen and Queen’s Rider had. If Ezaara loved Roberto, Zaarusha would go too. Kierion piped up, “Tomaaz, Adelina’s gone too, with Linaia.”

  Tomaaz’s eyes widened. “So, they could’ve gone to rescue Roberto together?”

  Kierion had offered Ezaara food, but she’d brushed him off. Then he’d danced with Adelina and didn’t remember seeing Ezaara again. “Maybe …”

  “Dragon’s claws, we’d best head after them. It’s a four-or-five-day flight.”

  “Not so quick,” Lars barked. “This is a matter for the council, not for two young hot-headed new riders. There are circumstances you’re both unaware of. Wait here. I’ll summon the war council.” Lars left for Singlar’s den, slamming the door behind him.

  “We’ll go now, with Fenni and Jael,” said Kierion to Tomaaz, his jaw
clenched. “What Lars doesn’t know won’t harm him.” At Tomaaz’s look of surprise, he added, “Lars hasn’t expressly forbidden us to go, so we should go before he does. I’m not leaving Adelina or Roberto there a moment longer.”

  Tomaaz shrugged. “What are we waiting for?”

  §

  Lovina frowned. “Where were you? I looked for you today.”

  Tomaaz shrugged, shoving a few things in his bags—healing supplies and food mainly, and another warm set of clothes, and some clothes for Roberto. “On an assignment with Kierion.”

  “In Great Spanglewood Forest fighting tharuks with wizards. Taliesin told me all about it. He was happy to see spangles, and liked the way wizards killed tharuks.” Lovina pursed her lips. “Now, you’re leaving again, aren’t you? But this time it’s not to Spanglewood.”

  “Ah, no, it’s not.” Gods, the last thing he wanted was to keep secrets from Lovina, but he didn’t want her getting into trouble for knowing.

  “If you don’t go, Roberto will die.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Get them out, Tomaaz. Bring them all home. I never want anyone to go through what I did in Death Valley. If these mages are as good as Taliesin says, they may be our only chance.”

  He hugged her, burying his lips in her hair, kissing its soft silkiness, then her fine cheeks and finally, her lips—the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Her arms tightened around his back, pulling him closer. Gods, how could he leave her? His breath caught. What if he never saw her again?

  “I, I—” She broke down, sobbing.

  He smoothed the hair back from her face. “Lovina, what is it?”

  “I’m just not brave enough.” Tears trailed down her cheeks. He wiped them away. “Not brave enough to come with you. I can’t. I just can’t go back.”

  “Shards, no, Lovina.” Horror engulfed him. “I’d never send you back there. No, not after what you’ve been through.” He’d witnessed Old Bill, her slave master, deliberately break her arm. Her back was still a mess of scars, like a tangle of vines writhing across her flesh. He pulled her close again, resting his chin on her hair. She buried her face in his chest, her breath shuddering out of her. “You stay right here, safe. Please take care of Taliesin.”

  Lovina looked up at him with her soft cornflower blues. “You always understand. I’m so lucky I met you, Tomaaz.”

  His heart swelled until he thought he’d burst.

  “There’s something else, Tomaaz. Something terrible is going to happen to the mages in Spanglewood Forest.” Lovina shook her head. “I can’t shake the feeling.”

  Lovina’s bad feelings often turned out to be prophetic. A shiver crept down Tomaaz’s spine.

  §

  The craving in Alban’s belly was driving him mad. His mouth flooded with the familiar taste of the fine herb tea that Sofia had made whenever he’d visited her in the girl’s dorm—on the quiet, of course. Males weren’t allowed there at night. He stumbled into the corner of the dungeon, his legs trembling. Yesterday he’d hankered after that tea, but today he had the shivers and shakes and would claw someone’s eyes out for another cup. He leaned over a pail, vomiting in the corner, then huddled under the scratchy blanket on his pallet, trying to get warm.

  His mouth watered, driving him mad. He moaned. Just another cup. Gods, he’d kill for one. He shook his head. This was crazy. He’d never been a great tea drinker. Why was he so raving mad over a stupid beverage?

  A flickering light shone through the barred door. “Hey, you all right?” It was a guard, holding up a torch.

  Alban rolled over and opened his mouth to answer, but dry retched instead.

  “Fetch the healer,” hollered the guard. “Prisoner’s got a belly gripe.”

  It felt like forever until the quick steps of the healer entered the room.

  “Watch him. He’s dangerous,” the guard warned.

  “I’m armed,” the healer said. “You can leave us.” She was tall, with dark hair—Marlies, the master healer. She took the torch from the guard’s hand, setting it in a sconce. “And don’t lock the door.” Marlies’ voice had authority. “I can’t get him to the infirmary through a locked door. Go on, be off with you.”

  She strode to the pail and examined the contents. “Yes, Alban, it’s me. I didn’t appreciate you attacking my daughter, but as a healer, I must treat you if you’re ill. Now, tell me, how long have you been taking swayweed tea?”

  Swayweed? That sharding Sofia had been drugging him. No wonder he’d been so angry lately. How long? “Sofia’s been giving me tea since the Queen’s Rider knifed her.”

  The Cage

  Lars descended the uneven stone steps down the winding corridor. Torches burned along the walls at intervals, but not regularly enough to light the entire tunnel, so he’d brought his own. He gripped the torch shaft hard, harder than necessary for a council leader about to question a girl.

  Sofia had come from a good family, a long line of dragon folk. It was understandable that she wanted Anakisha’s prophecy to be fulfilled. They all did. But what was driving her to this hatred? He greeted the two guards and dragons on duty at the junction as he swept past. When he reached the guardian of the cage, he stopped, holding his hand out.

  “Master Lars, I should accompany you,” said the guardian.

  Lars huffed. “The key will do. If I can’t question a girl on my own, I’m not fit to be council leader.” He waved his hand impatiently as the guard unfastened the key from his belt and reluctantly handed it over.

  “I’ll come and wait by the—”

  “Stay here. I’ll be back soon enough.”

  “Yes, sir.” Pressing his mouth into a grim line, the guard nodded.

  Lars didn’t want an audience. Not for this conversation. He proceeded down the passage and came to a metal grill covering the end of the tunnel. Setting his torch into a sconce, he jangled the key in the lock and opened the door.

  Sofia was hunched in a corner with her arms around her knees. Her head shot up as Lars entered. “Ooh, aren’t I lucky to have a visit from the leader of the council?”

  Lars’ jaw tightened at the venom in her voice. “Sofia,” he barked sharply, “cut the antagonism.”

  The caustic sting in her voice increased along with her volume. “Antagonism? What about my cousin’s chance to be Queen’s Rider?”

  So that was it. Lars was glad he hadn’t brought the guard—he didn’t want anyone hearing this. “Sofia, your cousin may be dead. Tharuks took him so long ago. There’s no certainty …”

  “There’s no certainty that the Queen’s Rider has imprinted correctly.”

  “Master Roberto tested her and said she was the true rider. You were there when he declared it in front of all the folk at Dragons’ Hold.”

  “Anyone could have pressured him to say that.” Even you, her scathing gaze said. “Roberto has now conveniently disappeared. I know he’s at Death Valley, sent there so he could be silenced. He’s good at ousting traitors. Maybe he was looking to oust the head of the council next.”

  “You vicious snipe,” thundered Lars. “What has gotten into you?”

  Sofia sneered, “You’re not perfect, Lars. I know your biggest secret.”

  Marlies. It had to be. How could she possibly know? He’d never told anyone how he’d felt about Marlies. Lars had been deeply in love with her, but too shy to say so. Then she’d met Hans. Actually, he’d admitted his feelings to one person, his cousin—Sofia’s mother. Inside, Lars blanched, but he kept his face impassive. “What are you talking about?”

  “How do you think Lydia would feel if she knew?”

  Lydia didn’t know that he’d still had strong feelings for Marlies, as he’d fallen for her. But Sofia’s mother did. Thank gods, those feelings had vanished when Marlies had fled Dragons’ Hold. “We’re here to discuss you attacking the Queen’s Rider.”

  “And your reasons for pretending she’s the rightful rider, even in the face of Anakisha’s prophecy. A prophecy which states one of the form
er Queen’s Rider’s male heirs will rule at Dragons’ Hold.

  “One of our progeny will reign in our stead

  Filling our enemies’ foul hearts with dread

  Purging all evil will be his desire

  Vengeance he’ll wage with arrows of fire.”

  Sofia’s harsh voice echoed off the cage’s stone walls.

  “Him doesn’t necessarily mean a male, just as master applies to both females and males,” countered Lars.

  “Oh? So, we shouldn’t take prophecies literally anymore?” Sofia arched an eyebrow, her forehead beaded with sweat. “Have you fallen for the daughter as you once fell for the mother? Really, Lars, I expected more.”

  “You gutter snake,” Lars snapped. “You’re worthy of the title they bestow on you, Snake-tongue. Enough. I’m finished here.”

  “But I’m not finished with you. If you were a half-decent leader, you’d summon all of Anakisha’s progeny to be tested.” She slumped back against the wall, her face a sickly shade of gray.

  Grabbing his torch, Lars strode out the door, her barbs sticking in his gut as he swept past the guard who must’ve heard him bellowing at his cousin’s daughter.

  §

  Lars slammed the door to his cavern and stamped inside.

  Lydia gave him a sharp look. “What’s the matter?”

  “Sofia,” muttered Lars. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her. She’s as bad as Bruno and Fleur were. Attacking the Queen’s Rider, dividing the hold. Argh.” He yanked a boot off, hurling it against the granite wall.

  “And Master Roberto’s not here to test her,” Lydia said. “Aren’t you worried about him?”

  “Of course, I’m worried sick about him.” Lars sat on the couch, removing his other boot. Lydia sat next to him and rubbed his neck and shoulders. “Oh, that feels good.”

  “Why haven’t you sent a team to rescue Roberto?” Lydia asked.

  “It’s Tonio.”

  “He has evidence against him?” Lydia raised her eyebrows, shaking her head as Lars nodded. “That poor lad, what does he have to go through next? Hasn’t he suffered enough at Zens’ hands? Can’t you do something? Say something to convince Tonio?”