“That still doesn’t tell me why you hate dragons so much.”
“I asked the green guards for help when my family went missing, but the dragons and riders never came. I vowed never to trust a dragon or rider again...” Captain glanced out the cabin window at cliffs looming across a short stretch of ocean. “We don’t have much time.” He reached across the table and grasped Roberto’s arm. “Amato’s been talking to my crew. Says he was implanted with a crystal by Zens and couldn’t help what he did.”
Oh, that was Captain’s point—Amato. Although Blood-eye and Captain were enemies and had wronged each other in the past, they’d pulled together to fight a common enemy.
Captain arched his brows. “Your future is up to you, Roberto.”
It flaming well was. Who did Captain think he was, meddling in his affairs? Roberto drained his cup—embellished with Naobian green guards flying through the sky. His throat constricted. The rider in the foreground looked exactly like his father.
Captain met his eyes and nodded. “Even though I hate dragons, I’ve kept this flaming crockery because it belonged to my beloved wife. She had each one especially commissioned. I knew Amato years ago. He was a good man before Zens turned him. When I took up pirating, she wanted me to remember that.”
The captain’s words were like a knife twisting deep in Roberto’s gut. The last thing he or Adelina needed was to remember the man behind the monster.
“Thank you for the tea.” Roberto’s thanks stuck in his throat as he turned and left the cabin.
Land Bound
Yesterday Riona had flown around the ship dousing fires long enough for Kierion’s fish to digest. As soon as she’d landed back on board, seasickness had hit him again and it hadn’t stopped. Thank the First Egg it was time to disembark. Kierion couldn’t have been happier—except they weren’t disembarking onto nice flat dry land, were they? No, huge cliffs rose straight out of the sea, barren and pockmarked with thousands of holes.
It’d be impossible to find the pirate tunnel into Death Valley without Amato to guide them.
Confronted by jagged rocks, the captain maneuvered the boat as close as he dared and then weighed anchor. “This is far as I can take you all. I won’t enter Death Valley again.”
“Fetch Amato, please,” Roberto commanded in a voice that could’ve frozen the ocean.
Nod dragged Amato from the brig.
Looking like an emaciated skeleton and squinting against the light, the frail man rested his hands on the railing, scanning the cliffs. His wispy hair stirred in the sea breeze. No one spoke as he scanned the cliffs.
Waves slapped against the hull.
Finally, Amato pointed. “There, there it is, I’d know it anywhere. See, it’s shaped like a dragon’s maw.”
Nod grunted.
“It’s been a few years since I’ve used this entrance. Eight years ago, actually, last time I was here.”
Leaning on the railing at Kierion’s side, Adelina flinched. He brushed her hand with his. Roberto remained cool, not even acknowledging that his father had spoken, his gaze riveted on the cliff.
“There should be a few meager supplies inside, above the high tide line—unless a freak tide has washed them away,” Amato said.
Kierion tried not to look, but the churning gray waves under the gunnels of the boat were too much. The deck swayed. Gods, now he had to get into another boat, a pitifully light craft that Captain’s men were now lowering over the side.
Instead of watching the sea, he focused on a tattoo rippling across the large bicep of one of the pirates lowering the rowboat—of dragons with their necks entwined, forming a heart. Scattered at their feet were a horde of dragonets, among fractured shards of eggs. Blood dripped from the shards, trickling onto a banner: In blood we are born. In blood we die. Together.
Kierion shuddered.
He risked a look over the railing. Dark fins peeked above the ocean, were swallowed by waves, then cut through the choppy sea. That didn’t help his nausea. Kierion swallowed and looked away, willing his stomach to behave. He didn’t fancy leaning over the low side of that rowboat with sharks so near.
“Heave-ho.” The rowboat splashed down into the churning brine, Medina sitting inside it. She used the oars to keep the boat close to the ship. A wave crested the side, leaving a pool of water in the bottom. Nod tied a rope to the railing and cast it down to Medina, who by some miracle grabbed it. “One at a time,” she called.
Kierion rolled his eyes. As if she thought they’d scale the rope in threes.
“The quicker we’re out of here, the better,” Roberto said. “Into the boat. Danion first, then Tomaaz, Fenni, and Gret. After them, Amato, Lovina, and Adelina. I’ll take the rear with Kierion.”
Captain passed Danion a bulging rucksack. “You’ll need these to get into the tunnel. Amato knows how to use them.”
Danion shouldered the rucksack, grabbed the rope and launched himself off the edge.
Captain and Roberto clasped each other’s arms and nodded, Naobian style, to farewell each other. Then Tomaaz was over the edge.
Oh gods. Kierion groaned. It would soon be his turn.
Captain strode to the railing next to Kierion. “Chew this. It’ll settle your stomach.” Captain shoved a piece of dried ginger root into Kierion’s hand. Staring out at the ocean, he muttered, “I didn’t have much, so I saved it for this leg of your trip because the waters are notoriously choppy here.”
No kidding. “Thanks.” Kierion stuffed the root into his mouth and chewed rapidly. It nearly burnt his tongue off, but he’d eat a Naobian hot pepper, seeds and all, if it stopped his stomach churning.
Captain slugged him on the shoulder. “Thanks for saving my life, Kierion, and introducing me to dragons again.”
Kierion swallowed the ginger, throat burning. “You’re welcome, Captain.” He was aware of Fenni, Gret, Amato, and Lovina going down the rope to that tiny boat bobbing in the churning sea, but he kept his eyes on Captain. “I was glad to serve my people in Montanara, and to serve you.”
Adelina squeezed his hand, then went down the rope.
Kierion turned back to Captain and pounded his fist over his heart. “Thank you for bringing us here.”
Captain winked. “Just don’t mention to the dragon masters that I already owned the ship you bought for me.” He chortled.
“What?” Roberto asked from behind them.
Kierion grinned. “Um, nothing.”
Roberto smiled back. “I guess it’s one of those secrets that I really don’t want to know.”
Kierion shrugged.
“Next,” Medina yelled from below.
Captain gestured to the rope. “Your turn, Kierion. Don’t ever keep a lady waiting.”
Kierion grasped the rope, launched himself over the edge and walked down the side of the ship. Carefully studying his hands on the rope, he avoided looking below.
“Two more steps, then leap,” Adelina called.
He didn’t trust himself to answer. Clenching his jaw shut against rising nausea, Kierion swung out to the rowboat and found his footing. Sighing, he sank down onto a bench.
Moments later, Roberto’s weight hit the boat. The rowboat dipped then lurched on a wave.
Ginger burned its way up Kierion’s throat. He grasped the side of the rowboat and leaned over, depositing Captain’s chewed-up gift into the choppy gray waves. His nostrils burned too, the cloying stench of ginger smothering the salty brine. Oh, by the flaming dragon gods, no. He clung on as the world wobbled on the swell. Squeezing his eyes shut, Kierion waited for his nausea to pass.
When he opened his eyes, a dark fin was cutting through the water. He slumped back on the bench, holding his middle. No one spoke. There was just the hiss of the waves against the boat, the creak of Medina’s oars in the oarlocks, and the slap of the tide against the pockmarked cliff.
§
Roberto had to admire Kierion. Not everyone could descend from a ship to a rowboat while suffering from c
rippling seasickness, and keep their head. Or their midday meal. Kierion had nearly mastered it, until that wave hit the side.
Tucked in the rowboat between himself and Danion, Amato pointed at the tunnel high up the cliff face. “See, it looks even more like a dragon maw from down here.”
Roberto grudgingly nodded.
An enormous wave crested, smashing on the cliff face and sending spray high inside the dragon’s maw. The next wave did the same.
This way led only to certain death. “So how do we get in?”
His father replied, “There are two ways: either you ride a wave and chance it throwing you up there—”
Medina interrupted. “Hopefully the wave won’t throw a shark at you.” She laughed. “You wouldn’t be the first to be eaten here.”
Amato glared at her and continued, “Or you hop out of the rowboat and cling onto the rock while the tide hits you, and then clamber up.”
Anger surged inside Roberto. “You never mentioned this. Is that what your game is? To bring us here to die?” Was his father still carrying a methimium crystal, buried deep somewhere inside him? “You’re still working for Zens, admit it.”
Amato held out shaking hands. “Pass the rucksack, Danion.” He opened it and fished out three short lengths of rope. “This is how we’ll do it. There are rings mounted in the cliff, leading up to the cave.” He pointed them out, then threaded the first piece of rope through his belt, and looped the other two onto it. “We get out of the boat, one at a time. You tie one of these ropes onto the first ring. When the wave hits you, you hang on.”
“And pray that a shark doesn’t spot you.” Medina cackled.
Amato shook his head. “Before the next wave comes, you tie yourself onto the next ring with the other rope. Then wait out that wave, and untie yourself from the one below. Then you do the next—”
“And the next.” Roberto eyed the steep cliff streaming with backwash from the wave. At intervals, rusty metal rings were mounted into the stone. “If the rings hold, you’ll gradually make your way up the cliff, always anchored by at least one rope. Amato, distribute the ropes. Do we have enough for everyone?”
Amato nodded. “And spare. Captain made sure of that.”
“All right, everyone. Did you hear Amato’s instructions? It’ll be slow progress, but doable.” It’d take iron nerves and steady hands. Hopefully, Kierion was up to this. Flaming Amato—if he’d mentioned this, they could’ve had a dragon ferry them up the cliffside. Hmm. Maybe not, it was pretty steep and would require a huge leap from dragonback. Anyway, he hadn’t given Amato a single chance to speak with him since they’d boarded the Roaring Dragon, despite his requests. Oh gods, just like the captain and Bloodeye. Roberto cleared his throat. “If any of you don’t think you’re up to it, speak now and you can go back to Naobia with the captain. No one will think less of you.”
No one spoke.
Kierion had paled. His hands were shaking.
Danion growled, “And then we freeze, climbing through a tunnel in sea-sodden clothing to find Zens? Is that your brilliant plan?” He glared at Amato.
“We must tie our knots firm and fast, or the tide will take us,” Amato said, ignoring Danion. “Let’s practice until everyone knows how.”
They tied their ropes around their waists or belts and threaded the others through.
“No, Gret, the top piece has to go through the bottom one. There, that’s right,” Amato said. They all practiced the knots several times. Kierion’s hands were shaking and he looked greener than a Naobian dragon. Roberto vowed he’d be the last off the boat with Kierion right in front of him to make sure the lad didn’t fall.
Medina rowed closer to the cliff. The boat rose on the swell to a tiny rock platform with only room for one person. The rowboat bobbed up and down, the rock awash with brine.
Danion was first out and reached high, fastening his rope to the second ring. Even though Fenni glowered at him, he reached down to steady Gret on the rock. They both moved higher, using footholds and handholds cut into the rock. The boat rose on a swell and the tide washed up Gret’s calves.
Roberto glanced behind then.
Sharks were prowling farther out. If someone slipped…
“Next,” Roberto called as the tide receded. Fenni was out in a flash, fastening himself to the first ring and reaching for the second when the tide hit him. He clung as the backwash tried to pull him back into the sea.
“And next,” Roberto called.
Amato tried to help Adelina clamber out of the rowboat but she waved him off and sprang, slipping on the rock. In a flash, she was on her feet, tying herself to the ring. Roberto watched, heart in mouth as the water rose to his sister’s thighs. Gods. If she got washed away he’d be powerless to help her. And they hadn’t even sorted things out yet.
Another Blood-eye of sorts. He vowed he’d talk to her as soon as he could.
Above, Danion led the way, calling instructions to the others about footholds and handholds.
Tomaaz helped Lovina out, then followed. Next, it was Amato’s turn. He scrambled onto the platform and threaded his rope around the ring as if he’d done it a hundred times. Perhaps he had.
Roberto cringed. No one knew how many foul deeds his father had done in Zens’ name.
“There’s only you two left.” Medina waved a hand at the sharks. “Better be quick. Your sister let blood into the water.”
Roberto’s gaze shot up to Adelina, halfway up the cliff. She’d gashed her knee when she’d fallen. Blood ran down her leg and stained the stone where she was climbing. Below the tide mark, the rock was clean.
“They say a shark can smell a drop of blood from a hundred dragon lengths away,” Medina said. “This time, I’m not joking. They’ll be in a frenzy soon and may even jump into my boat. Get out. Now.”
Curse the dragon gods, there wasn’t enough space on the platform for both of them. Roberto gripped Kierion’s biceps. “You can do this, Kierion. Once we get in to that tunnel, you won’t have to look at the sea again. But be prepared. Your legs won’t be steady. You’ll feel as if the rock is pitching.”
Kierion groaned.
Roberto shook him. “Come on, Kierion. You’re the man who can jump onto a dragon’s tail. Imagine the seawater is a cold bath and hang on. Imagine the rope is a test of skill. We’ll get you to the top. I’ll be behind you every step of the way.”
Kierion’s panic-stricken eyes met his.
Glancing up, Roberto saw Danion leading the others into the cavern.
“Move it. The sharks are closing in,” Medina called.
Roberto grabbed Kierion’s chin between his hands. “Don’t look. Get on the rock now.”
Kierion leaped onto the platform as a massive fin cut through the water. He grabbed his rope and threaded it through the first ring. And hung on as a high wave drenched him to the waist.
Roberto glanced behind them. The shark was getting closer to the rowboat.
Another wave drenched Kierion. He clung on, but didn’t move.
“Up. Next step, Kierion,” Roberto called. “Make it lively.”
Kierion climbed up a few footholds. Roberto leaped onto the platform and tied his first rope.
“The dragon gods be with you,” Medina called, pushing off with an oar.
Freezing water clawed at Roberto’s legs, dragging his feet across the rock, but he clung to his anchoring rope. Now the rowboat was gone, there was nothing but water between him and that massive fin. The shark sped toward him.
Gods, he couldn’t rush Kierion, or he’d likely slip. Roberto waited as another wave crested. It smashed against his thighs, splashing his backside and lower back.
Oh gods, Kierion had gashed his elbow on the rock above. His blood dripped into the sea.
Roberto tried to tie his second rope to the ring above, but it was tangled in his belt. He yanked it from his belt and reached up, but the rope slipped through his fingers and plunged to the sea. A fanged maw rose from the water. A shar
k snapped its jaws around the rope.
Medina cried out a warning.
Roberto grabbed a handhold, hoisting himself up the rock. The next wave smashed around his knees, but he ignored it, untying his first rope.
A wave slapped at his calves. There was an almighty yank on his waist. His face slammed into the rock. Blood ran into his eyes. And dripped down onto the last rope around his waist. Oh gods. He screamed as another freak wave splashed higher. There was another yank on his waist.
He risked a glance down.
The giant shark had his rope firmly in its jaws. It yanked again, thrashing its tail.
Other sharks, excited by its thrashing, shot toward it. Gods, oh gods.
As the wave receded, Roberto freed his knife from its sodden sheath and severed the rope from his belt.
He scrambled up the slippery cliff face, leaving a frenzy of sharks fighting over the rope in the churning waters.
§
Barely breathing, Adelina lay at the mouth of the tunnel, head over the edge, staring down at her brother and Kierion. There they were—the two men she loved most in the world, battling for their lives on the cliff. Below them, sharks churned the water into a frothy white mass of snapping jaws and thrashing tails.
Shards, Roberto wasn’t even tied on. She’d struggled and slipped, gashing her knee. Only the flimsy ropes had saved her. Her fists clenched the rim of the ledge.
Just a few more handholds now, and Kierion would be in the cave. His face was pale and limbs trembling. He’d barely eaten these last few days. It was a wonder he could climb at all.
Roberto, blood trickling down his face, was much farther down. His voice drifted up to them. “That’s it, Kierion. You can do it. You’re nearly there.”
She swallowed. He’d gone last so he could help Kierion. Roberto was always looking out for others. Always trying to help wherever he could. He’d even let himself be banished and sent to the Wastelands so he could save Ezaara.
She groaned. She’d been such a fool. So stubborn and so blind. Shocked at Amato being alive, she’d lashed out at her brother, who must’ve been just as stunned as her.
Riders of Fire Complete Series Box Set books 1-6: YA Epic Fantasy Dragon Rider Adventures Page 137