“It was. She’s very shaken. Thank the Egg, she’s all right.” He hesitated. “We can meld again, now. I couldn't hear you before.”
“That’ll be the opaline. When it’s between us, the crystal blocks mind-melding.” Erob snorted. “As beautiful as that fountain is, it’s a poor imitation of real sea dragons.”
Now that they were melded, Ezaara’s memories shot through Roberto as she shared them with Zaarusha: Bruno dragging her by her legs across the cobbles…
Anger, deadly and icy, surged through his veins. He would not be merciful when he faced Bruno and Simeon. They’d already killed Master Shari and Master Jaevin. And Fleur had fouled the healing of many at Dragons’ Hold.
Erob’s blue-scaled tail twitched, scraping the cobbles. “Watch out, Roberto,” he warned, “or hate will grow like a canker in your blood.”
Perhaps it already had.
§
Erob spiraled down on a grassy slope near a stunning blue lake. Zaarusha followed, thudding down beside him. Despite Simeon’s ugly grimace flashing through her mind and her tight breath during her flight here, Ezaara was determined to put the morning’s incidents behind her and enjoy their picnic. She slid off Zaarusha onto the grass and walked around to her snout.
The queen butted her hand. A cozy, warm sensation washed over Ezaara. “The least I can do is comfort you. I’m sorry I was so far away.”
She flung her arms around Queen Zaarusha’s huge scaly neck, pressing her cheek against her dragon’s sun-warmed hide. “You can’t be everywhere—and you can’t hover over me.”
“I can’t lose you.” Zaarusha huffed warm air over her back.
Ezaara stepped back and scratched her snout.
Behind them, Erob settled on the grass, wrapping his tail around his body and tucking his head under his wing.
Roberto pulled a blanket out of one of Erob’s saddlebags and spread it out on the lush grass.
Ezaara sat on it, hugging her knees, staring at the expanse of blue crystalline water. It was easy to see how Crystal Lake had got its name. Nestled among grassy hills dotted with trees, a short flight from the Naobian township, it lay in a secluded spot, sheltered from the sea breeze. Nearby, a stream burbled its way down a hill, ferns—taller than a man—lining its banks. Doves cooed in the trees, and small birds twittered in the sunlight.
Roberto came over and sat beside her, placing a gentle arm around her shoulders. She didn’t realize she was shaking until his warmth enveloped her.
He drew her against him, and she curled up, the thrum of his heartbeat against her cheek. His voice rumbled through his chest. “Adelina and I used to swim here when we were young. It was a sanctuary, a haven for us. Sometimes we’d wake up early and get our chores done so we could slip off when my father wasn’t looking. We’d play here for hours in our safe place.” He gazed down at her, his dark eyes inviting her to make this her safe place too.
“I can’t let Simeon get the better of me. I want to enjoy today.”
He stroked her cheek. “Good,” he murmured softly, pulling his rucksack closer. “You must be famished.”
Eating was the last thing Ezaara felt like doing, nausea still roiling in her belly. Refusing to let Simeon and Bruno win, she nodded.
Roberto raised an eyebrow, obviously not taken in by her nod, and pulled a jar from the rucksack. He held it up. Sunlight hit liquid honey, turning it to burnished gold. A lazy grin spread across Roberto’s face and lit his eyes. “That first night when you hurt your ankle, your hair in the candlelight reminded me of sunlight on honey.”
The tightness in her chest eased. “That’s sweet of you.”
“Sweet?” He cocked his eyebrow at her again. “Was that meant to be a pun?”
“It was meant to be romantic,” she mock-punched his arm.
He laughed. “I’ve been called many things, but never sweet.”
Ezaara couldn’t help laughing, too. “Sweet wouldn’t be the word most people would use to describe you.” He’d been so tough and arrogant, even cold, when she’d met him.
He grinned and set the honey down, reached into the rucksack again and drew out a heart-shaped cherry tart.
She inhaled the fruity aroma. “Oh, Roberto.” He was always doing such kind things for her. “Remember the walking stick you carved for me?”
“You know, I think I loved you, right back then,” he said, “although I was fighting to deny it.” Setting the tart on the blanket, he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers.
He’d always been surprisingly gentle with her. Except when training her—then he’d been the toughest taskmaster she’d ever faced.
Next, he produced a loaf of fresh bread, a round of herb cheese and some fat, juicy apricots.
Ezaara’s mouth watered.
With a rustle, Roberto passed her a package wrapped in fine, green tissue paper and tied with a gold ribbon.
Another gift? He’d been showering her with keepsakes since they’d arrived, one little surprise after another. “For me?”
He gestured at the hills around them. “Who else? I love you, Ezaara. I want you to remember it every day.”
How could she forget? They’d spent many intimate hours in their giant four-poster bed over the last few days. Her cheeks warmed. “Thank you.” She untied the ribbon. It felt like fabric. Ezaara peeled back the paper and gasped.
She was holding light-blue fabric covered with dragons in many hues. She tugged the fabric free, and shook it out. There were two pieces—a tunic and breeches.
“Fine ceremonial wear for a Queen’s Rider,” Roberto said. “Do you like it?”
“Like it? I love it. I was admiring similar cloth in the marketplace this morning, but it was only half as beautiful.” This morning she hadn’t thought it was possible to find prettier cloth, but this was exquisite.
This morning, before Simeon had attacked her. Her eyes filled with tears, and she dropped the tunic and breeches into her lap. “Oh, Roberto.”
“You’re safe here.” He held her until her tears stopped, gently stroking her back.
She sniffed and picked up the tunic again. “These dragons are much more detailed than the ones in the market.” She stood up, angling the garment to see properly. “Look, their scales flash in the sun like real dragons’ do, and their eyes look so realistic, as if they’re watching us. You can almost feel them overhead.” Ezaara involuntarily glanced up into the cloudless, steel-blue sky.
“This one’s Zaarusha,” Roberto said, pointing to a multi-hued dragon on the front of the tunic. “And that dark blue one’s Erob.
“There’s Maazini, Handel and Liesar.” Their orange, bronze and silver scales winked in the sun.
“I had it woven especially for you,” he said.
Her mouth formed an o, but no sound came out. He’d done all that for her?
“These are all made by a couple who are old friends of our family. Anastia sewed the tunic and breeches and embroidered them especially for you. She also makes great bread and the best cherry tarts in Naobia, and Warlin makes cheese and tends bees. Come on, let’s eat.” Roberto sliced her a heel of bread and placed a wedge of herb cheese on it. “I’d like you to meet them.” He gauged her. “But maybe not today.”
Ezaara bit through the crunchy crust into the soft bread and groaned in pleasure. “This is delicious.” Her nausea was gone.
He plied her with another slice of bread, drizzled with honey.
The cherry tart and apricots were even better—sweet and satisfying.
After they’d eaten, Roberto lay back in the sun and Ezaara nestled against his side. Soon, her eyes drooped and she dozed off.
When Ezaara awoke, she was hot and sticky from the relentless sun.
Roberto stirred and sat up. “Do you feel like a swim?” he asked tentatively.
Yesterday, they’d gone skinny-dipping in the sea in the middle of the night, but after what had happened this morning, Ezaara wasn’t so sure… She glanced around.
�
�You could leave your undergarments on if you feel more comfortable,” he suggested.
That was a great compromise. She wouldn’t let her experience with Simeon beat her, but she could be careful. Her breath shuddered out of her. “Good idea.”
Roberto helped her undo the fastenings on her jerkin and hung it on a tree. He produced a shirt for her to swim in. “Here, wear this, just in case someone turns up.”
He helped her into it. That felt a little better.
Roberto undressed, leaving his own undergarments on too. Probably just to make her feel comfortable. He kissed her forehead. Then he spun and dashed off to the lake yelling, “Last one in is a stinky dragonet!”
Ezaara laughed and raced after him. He really did know how to make her feel great.
The strong muscles in his back rippled as he dove from a knoll, making a perfect arc into the water. Ezaara hesitated, not from fear, but to watch the sheer beauty of his tan, lean figure cutting through the clear blue water, casting a rippling shadow on the pale sand. Fish flitted between sparse clumps of lake weed, their scales silver, tinged with orange or gold. It was peaceful here—beautiful. This could easily become one of her favorite spots in the realm.
Roberto burst out of the water, shaking the hair out of his eyes, sending a spray of silver droplets cascading around him. He grinned. “Jump in. The water’s great.”
She and Tomaaz had grown up spending half of their lives in the river near home. Ezaara dove off the knoll and swam through the cool, pristine water. Oh, it was good to wash away the morning’s events. The sun played on the surface, refracting into ripples of silver light that danced across the smooth sand. She popped above the surface, smiling at Roberto.
He looked so free and happy, years younger. This was one of those rare moments they’d treasure when they returned to Dragons’ Hold to wage war against Zens.
Ezaara dove down again, aiming for the sandy lake bottom. She’d never seen sand that pearly-white. Or the pretty crystals that sparkled in the pale sand, catching the light. Down she swam, kicking strongly. Oh gods, it felt good to be in the water. She stretched her hand out, trying to touch the sand, but it was farther away than it looked. She kicked again, pressure building in her ears, hand still outstretched. The water was so clear it was deceptively deep. With a final kick, her fingers brushed the sand. Picking up a crystal, she turned, kicking off the bottom of the lake and shooting back up toward the surface. She couldn’t resist tickling Roberto’s feet on the way up. She burst out of the water, spraying crystalline drops. “Look.”
“Opaline crystals,” he said. “That’s how the lake got its name. The sea dragon fountain in town is made of this stuff.”
Ezaara dropped it back in the lake, watching it sink to the bottom.
“Race you to the other side.” Roberto kicked off on his back, waiting for her to join him. “There’s something I’d like to show you.”
Another surprise? Ezaara lay on her back, kicking along beside him.
He held out his hand, and she took it.
“This is how I’d like to live,” he said. “None of that other tough stuff. Just you and me, enjoying ourselves in the sun, flying our dragons and exploring the realm.”
“Maybe one day.”
“These days we have together, we’ll take them, Ezaara, and make them ours. No one can steal them from us. No matter what happens, they’ll be ours forever.”
“What about that race?” she asked. Ezaara flipped onto her stomach and plowed through the water toward the other side of the lake, Roberto at her side.
When they were three-quarters of the way across the lake, Roberto led her to a towering boulder jutting out of the water. They ascended the boulder on hand-carved steps and lay on the top, overlooking the lake. Water lapped at the edges of the rock—their tiny island amid the expanse of blue. A hawk flew overhead. The smooth sun-baked stone warmed Ezaara’s back.
“You know what?” Roberto rolled over and kissed her collar bone. “Even in my shrotty old shirt, you’re beautiful,” he said, the sun turning his dark eyes into molten fire.
Then he was kissing her, his water-cooled lips igniting flames deep in her core. Ezaara pulled him closer, the hard planes of his chest meeting hers. Their sathir—the life energy that bound them—danced around them, her multi-hues swirling with his silver-threaded midnight blue.
Were they truly alone? Somehow after this morning... She pushed him away, glancing around.
“It’s all right,” he melded. “I understand.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “We have our whole lives together. Come on, let me show you the special hideout that Adelina and I found.” He rose and extended his hand, his tan figure limned in light against the vibrant sky.
“You’re beautiful too.” Ezaara stood and kissed him again. “After this morning, I just need a little time.”
“It’s natural. You’ve been through a shock.” He gestured to the stairs. “Come on, you’ll love this.”
Ezaara didn’t take the stairs. She dove off the boulder into the clear turquoise-blue water.
In a heartbeat, Roberto was swimming beside her.
This was how life should be: spontaneous, happy, free. They’d seldom had the chance to enjoy each other. Until a week ago, they hadn’t even been allowed to admit their love.
He swam to a bank near a rocky outcrop. A huge willow grew upon the rock, its gnarled roots wending over stone into the lush earth beyond, and its fronds draping into the water. They swam under the curtain of fronds, the light an eerie green.
“Adelina and I call this tree Old King Willow,” Roberto said. “It’s been here since we were tiny.”
“It’s a great hiding spot.” Ezaara flicked her wet hair out of her eyes.
“Oh, we’re not there yet. We have to dive to get to my hidey hole. What I’m about to show you is stunning. I haven’t been here since Pa died. I’m not sure if anyone else knows about it.” Roberto took her hand. “Hold on and I’ll show you the way. Don’t be alarmed if we swim through some lake weed. It’s harmless.”
She nodded and took a deep breath.
Roberto tugged her down into the water by the edge of a rock face. The green light cast by the Old King Willow’s leaves made the water murkier. He kicked, guiding her downward, one hand still holding hers and the other skimming the rock face. Suddenly his hand disappeared into gloom—an enormous gaping cavern in the rock face. Roberto swam inside, motioning her to follow.
Ezaara grabbed the jagged roof of the cave, and pulled herself inside. It was so huge and dark, she couldn’t see the bottom. Tendrils of lake weed brushed against her legs, body and arms as she swam. “I’m glad you warned me.”
“We’ve a way to go, so conserve your breath.” Roberto shot upward.
It wasn’t a cave, but a wide tunnel. Ezaara kicked up, swimming beside him through a sea of waving lake weed. It brushed her face. Something cold slithered against her leg and she kicked out.
“Probably just a fish.” Roberto melded.
“Or an eel.” Her lungs were burning now. “Much farther?”
“Nearly there. Just a few more kicks.” He tugged her upward and they burst out of the water, gasping for air.
Above them was a dark starry sky. Roberto trod water next to her, pale starlight illuminating his smiling face.
“Stars?”
He chuckled softly, still breathing hard. “Glowworms.”
“Glowworms?” She kept her limbs moving, keeping herself afloat as she stared at the pale blue lights winking down at her. They looked like stars. “What are glowworms?”
“Little creatures that light up the dark,” he whispered, water splashing as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “If we’re too loud, they’ll go out.”
That there were such creatures… little beings of starlight for dark places… Ezaara shook her head. “I love their light. They’re amazing. Let’s mind-meld instead of talking, so we don’t scare them into putting their lights out.”
“We
can watch them from the rock.” Roberto gestured at a wide ledge running along the far wall of the enormous cavern.
They swam over, knees soon bumping the sides, and climbed out to catch their breath. Ezaara wrung out the ends of her shirt, and they leaned against the rock wall, watching the twinkling glowworms.
Roberto crossed his legs, his foot bumping a stone which clattered across the ledge. The glowworms winked out, shrouding the cavern in darkness. “Don’t worry, they’ll turn their lights back on soon.”
“It’s not that dark. See? There’s a glimmer at the back of the cave, as if there’s light around a corner.”
“There is,” he replied. “There’s a shaft to the surface back there, but it’s too far up to climb. Want to see it?”
“Sure.”
“We’ll go slow, so we don’t stumble in the dark.” He took her hand.
As they stood, the glowworms lit up again, a few at a time, until Ezaara could see better. “That was sweet of them.”
“All part of the service.” He bowed.
They made their way toward the back of the cavern, which turned into a spacious area.
“Wow, it opens right out.” Ezaara’s home in Lush Valley would fit in here three times over.
This part of the cavern didn’t have any glowworms, but was illuminated by a shaft of pale light filtering down from the rock ceiling. Dust motes stirred in a gentle breeze.
“It goes quite a way in,” Roberto melded. “Want to take a look?”
“Sure.” Ezaara blinked. Beyond the light, something stirred in the shadows. Ezaara’s skin prickled. “What’s that?”
“What?” Roberto tensed.
“There.” Ezaara pointed.
A snort echoed off the cavern walls. Something large and pale shifted, looming in the blackness, scratching stone.
§
The sound of talons skittering on stone made Roberto’s neck hair rise. “A dragon,” he murmured, dread trailing its clammy fingers down his spine. “It’s a dragon.”
The beast moved toward the light, pale wings drooping, its protruding ribs showing through the saggy skin hanging from its sides. The creature gazed at them, then slunk back into the dark, and nuzzled at a bundle on the floor.
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