Roberto ran to Erob and flung his arms around his dragon’s neck. “I’m so glad to see you.”
Beside him, he was aware of Kierion hugging Riona and Adelina embracing Linaia. Amato shifted his weight from foot to foot, then tentatively patted Matotoi’s snout.
Erob nuzzled his shoulder. “You injured your face. Is everyone else all right?”
“A few scrapes, but everyone’s in one piece.”
“What’s the plan now?” Erob’s yellow eyes regarded him.
“The others have gone to destroy the shadow dragons.”
“And you?”
“I’m hunting down Zens.”
§
She’d done it again. Gret knew Fenni had been about to apologize. It was just his way, his roundabout talking until he warmed up. Why had she snapped at him? Things were so much easier with Danion. Although she enjoyed Danion’s attention, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t important to her. He was just playing a part, and she sensed it.
Danion grinned at her. “Lover boy still being difficult?”
She elbowed him. “It’s not as if you’re helping.”
“On the contrary,” he replied. “I saved your skin back in Montanara at the Brothers’ Arms.”
Their feet chewed up the rocky tunnel floor, which was coated in fine yellow dust.
She sighed. “I know that, but he doesn’t.”
Danion, sword at the ready, tilted his head. “Then isn’t it about time you told him?”
Maybe. Gret didn’t answer. Instead, she followed the dim light glowing at Fenni’s fingertips deeper down the spiraling tunnel into the mountainside.
§
Roberto was keenly aware of his father’s shaking hands as they approached Zens’ lair. It was obvious, his sword was trembling like a leaf in a storm.
“This tunnel’s as dark as a dragon’s innards,” Kierion whispered.
“Could you head back outside and get Riona to light us a torch?” Roberto asked.
“Back soon,” Kierion replied, leaving Roberto, his sister, and his father alone for the first time since they’d found Amato alive.
Adelina was fuming. “Why are you shaking?” she barked at Pa.
Oh gods, he’d sworn to never call Amato his father again, and here she was…
Amato’s gaze slid away from them.
Adelina tapped her foot. “Well?” she demanded. “I bet it’s some trick to make us feel sorry for you.”
“It’s nothing,” their father croaked.
Moments later, Kierion returned, his blazing torch casting flickering shadows over their faces.
They approached Zens’ lair. The door was ajar. Perhaps Zens was down with the dark dragons. Roberto led the way, slipping through the door and checking the quarters. Kierion followed, holding up his torch so they could inspect every corner.
There, against the rear wall, was Zens’ trophy tank.
Amato gasped. “So full. When I last saw this tank, there were only a few hands and ears.”
“Zens has been busy.” So many tharuk and slaves’ hands, human ears and fingers floated in the yellow water that there were more body pieces than fluid. Stomach turning, Roberto looked away.
“A fair share of them are probably from people you helped tharuks kidnap for Zens,” Adelina snapped.
Kierion flinched, but Roberto didn’t blame his sister. She’d been barely six summers old when their father had turned. She’d hardly remember him from when they were younger—the lovely times in the sun, fishing and hunting goats.
Apart from the tank, the room was deserted.
Despite his awful memories, Roberto’s eyes were drawn to the cell next door.
He opened the heavy wooden door, blocking the others from entering with his body, and peered into the room.
000’s implements of torture were still hanging on the wall. Roberto shuddered, remembering how Zens had picked up Ezaara with his mind and smashed her against the stone. Right there were his own dark bloodstains on the rocky wall. He’d nearly died at that monster’s hands.
Roberto left the room and slammed the door. “Come on, let’s go. We’ve no time to lose. There’s a chance Zens is down with those dark dragons. Kierion, Gret, and Danion may need our help.” They ran out of the tunnel, Roberto leading the way.
Zens Strikes
Ezaara adjusted her weight in her chair behind the granite horseshoe-shaped table. It was already dark outside. She was spending altogether too much time in the council chamber lately.
Zaarusha’s voice rumbled in her mind. “I agree. Flying would be more preferable to sitting here. However, although brute force may help to win a skirmish, strategy will be the key to winning this war.”
The door opened and Dominique, the new leader of the blue guards, entered.
“I agree. Zens has strategy, but so far all we’ve done is react to his attacks.”
“We have to win. I won’t see Dragons’ Realm destroyed.”
“Neither will I. I love it as much as you do, Zaarusha.” Ezaara shifted her attention to Dominique, who was striding past the other council masters toward her.
Dominique thumped his fist over his heart and bowed his head to Zaarusha, then he nodded to the other dragons sitting along the back wall and finally bowed to Ezaara. “I have my patrol report, my honored Queen’s Rider.”
“Thank you, Dominique. Anything new?” Ezaara asked.
“We found two dark dragons south of Dragon’s Teeth, milling around the chasm.” The blue guard grinned. “Our troop slaughtered them and the fake mages riding them.”
“Any casualties?”
“Rocco has a flesh wound, but he’s being tended to by the healers as we speak.”
Lars piped up. “Make sure Rocco gets his wound cleansed regularly. We can’t afford infection and deaths from neglect.” He shook his head. “If only we had piaua juice.”
Exactly what Ezaara had been thinking.
“Excuse me, if I may,” Hans said. “Marlies and I sent Leah and Taliesin to retrieve piaua juice from the red guards.” Pa’s brow crinkled. “They have a large grove so we should get more supplies soon.”
Derek huffed. “The future of the realm in littlings’ hands. What have we come to?”
Pa’s green eyes met Derek’s. “They’re hardly littlings, and they’re traveling with Giant John. If he could get Marlies to Death Valley across Flatlands crawling with tharuks, then surely he can get two young future riders to the red guards.”
The spymaster pursed his lips. “Young ones might have more chance of slipping by unnoticed.”
Hans nodded. “Exactly what Marlies and I had thought.”
“How is she?” Tonio asked, brow furrowing.
“Not quite healed, but not too far off.” The worry lines in Pa’s face deepened.
So, Pa didn’t want them to know Ma was still exhausted. She hadn’t been the same since she’d taken piaua berries to put herself into a coma in Death Valley so she could fool Zens that she was dead. Back home in Lush Valley, she’d had so much energy. Ezaara took a deep breath and turned back to Dominique. “Anything else in Spanglewood Forest? How are things at Mage Gate?” They’d first encountered Zens’ shadow dragons at the massive clearing in Spanglewood where Mazyka and Giddi had once created a world gate. The blue guards had been patrolling there since the dark dragons had been spotted.
“My Queen’s Rider, there are a few isolated tharuks in the forest, but apart from them, we haven’t seen much. It’s as if Zens has given up.”
Ezaara shook her head. “He hasn’t given up, believe me. I’ve met that man, and he’ll never give up. He’ll be planning something.”
“Makes sense.” Dominique nodded. “Maybe he’s gathering more troops in Death Valley.”
Battle Master Aidan strode over to the large map of Dragons’ Realm mounted on the wall and stabbed a blunt finger at Death Valley. “Master Roberto and his riders should be here soon, striking at the heart of Death Valley. Hopefully, they’ll force
Zens out from his stronghold and across the Flatlands. We agreed to fly from Dragons’ Hold and form a pincher, trapping Zens’ army between two troops of dragons and riders. With mage fire on our side, we might stand a chance.”
Tonio snapped, “We’ve been over this already. Zens now has mage power too, and Roberto has pitifully few riders with him. Anyway, we’d be too far from our supplies at Dragons’ Hold. I say we drive the tharuks back across the plains to Death Valley.”
Ezaara’s fists clenched around her seat. Drive Zens’ whole army back toward Roberto—no. He’d never hold them off with his small band.
Master Hendrik broke in. “Weapons, supplies—how can we fight without those? We must stay near Dragons’ Hold.”
“We need an advantage,” Ezaara said. “I want ideas. Something. Anything.”
Master Jerrick spoke up. “In Horseshoe Bend where I grew up, there was a man named Mickel who claimed that exercising under strongwood trees increased your strength. He swore on it—and he was the strongest man in the village. We should get our riders to try that.”
Tonio laughed. “That’s an old dragon tale.”
Hendrik chuckled too. “Stupid gossip, that’s all.”
Jerrick drew his eyebrows down in a frown, mouth grim.
Lars smacked his gavel on the table. “We need a comprehensive strategy. Hans, as Master of Prophecy, what do you think? Have you had any visions that might help us know Zens’ plans?”
Hans opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the door to the council chambers clunked open again. A bedraggled blue guard staggered in—a man Ezaara had seen around, although she didn’t know his name. Dominique sprang to his feet and guided him to a chair in front of the council table.
The blue guard thumped his hand over his heart. “My Queen’s Rider, I’ve come from the red guards. Flown two days without a stop.” Deep worry lines cut into his face. His eyes were bright with unshed tears. “All the red guards are dead. Slaughtered by Zens’ forces.” His gaze flitted from master to master and came to rest upon Ezaara.
His words were met with stunned silence. The distant boom of Master Hendrik’s blacksmiths hammering weapons in the depths of caverns echoed through the chamber. Then everyone started talking at once.
“I’ll lead a troop of dragons myself,” Alyssa, master of flight, said. “My cousin was a red guard. I have the right of vengeance.”
Master Tonio shook his head. “Dragon Corps should investigate what’s happening before we rush headlong into—”
“I think we have to—”
“Silence.” Lars smacked his gavel on the table, the crack echoing like thunder.
“Please, someone bring him some water.” Ezaara gestured to the man. “Then let him finish.”
The guard gratefully accepted a cup from Dominique, gulped the water down, and handed it back for a refill. “Red dragons and their riders’ bodies are scattered across the plains, their blood staining the land. The piaua grove has been desecrated. What chance do any of us have?” He placed his cup on the floor and dropped his elbows to his knees, burying his face in his hands.
The scratch of talons on the stone floor echoed through the chamber as the masters sat in shocked silence. Far below them, the blacksmiths still pounded. Faint vibrations ran under Ezaara’s chair legs.
Ezaara met Pa’s eyes.
“That’s what Marlies found in Lush Valley too.” Pa addressed no one in particular, his face haggard. He massaged his temples.
“Handel says that Hans is now thinking he sent Leah and Taliesin to their deaths,” Zaarusha melded. “Your father has already melded with your mother and told her. She’s beside herself with guilt and grief.” Zaarusha also relayed what the guard’s blue dragon had seen.
Nausea churned in Ezaara’s stomach at the blue guard’s memories of the bloody carnage of murdered dragons and riders. The chances of Leah and Taliesin being alive were slim. Ezaara rose and walked around the council table. She crouched before the sobbing guard, her hand on his shoulder. “Do you know how long ago the attack on the red guards occurred?” she asked gently.
“Days ago,” he sobbed.
“Were any dark dragons still in the vicinity?”
He shook his head. “They’re gone. The whole way here, I didn’t see a single one.”
“Thank you for coming straight here to report.” Ezaara rose. “Dominique, please ensure he gets a decent meal and some rest.”
Dominique nodded, thumping his hand on his heart, and guided the guard out of the council chamber.
Ezaara addressed the council. “We’ll adjourn until morning. Keep me updated if anything changes.” As everyone filed out of the chamber, she hung back. Pa was still seated, his eyes closed, rubbing his forehead.
She sat beside him. “How is Ma?”
“Much better. Her ribs are recovering. She’s not in the prime of health, but what can you expect at our age?” Pa gave a chuckle, but it rang hollow.
“You’re not the only one worried about her, Pa,” she said softly. Her eyes stung at the thought of losing Ma.
“Don’t worry, Ezaara. You have the weight of the realm on your shoulders.” His voice was tender. “You don’t need to worry about her.”
Her heart cracked a little. She’d taken her parents for granted all these years. She squeezed Pa’s hand.
He squeezed hers back. “It’ll work out,” he said. “If only that flaming booming in my head would go away.”
“Booming?” Ezaara asked. “Oh, you mean the blacksmiths hammering out new weapons?”
“In all my years at Dragons’ Hold, I’ve never been able to hear the blacksmiths from the council room.” Pa cocked his head.
The booming was louder now, coming deep from the stone. The rock under Ezaara’s feet shuddered.
“You can hear that, too?” Pa’s eyes flew wide. “Oh gods. It’s like the prophecy I told Lars about: Zens digging a tunnel with hundreds of slaves.” His mouth sagged, his eyes wide with horror. “Shards, I should’ve realized. The signs have been right in front of my nose: I’ve had the dreams; Zens’ armies have been absent; and then Dominique saw shadow dragons around the southern chasm. They must be tunneling through the chasm to attack Dragons’ Hold! Ezaara, raise the alarm!”
§
Ezaara threw on her winter cloak, her father at her side as they ran across the council chambers.
“That flaming booming. I should’ve known,” Pa panted. He yanked the door open. “If Zens is really digging in the chasm, the tunnel should come out near the main cavern.” Horror crept across his face. “Hundreds of riders are training there tonight. Quick, we’ve no time to lose.”
They leaped upon their dragons. Zaarusha swooped off the ledge into the dark sky, angling down the mountainside to the main cavern. Handel was only a wingbeat behind.
Ezaara burst into the cavern on Zaarusha’s back, her bow nocked.
Training was in full swing. Riders were dueling, firing arrows at targets and swooping on dragons with mages seated behind them. Bolts of mage fire flew into painted targets high on the wall. Master wizards called instructions. At the back of the cavern, littlings played while their parents trained. Hundreds were here.
The rear walls of the cavern shuddered, a boom jarring Ezaara’s bones.
“That’s not a good sign,” Zaarusha rumbled.
A littling cried, blocking his ears. People pointed at the rear wall. Others paused for a moment, then continued with their training.
Ezaara melded with their dragons. “We may be under attack at any moment. As a precaution, please gather your riders and leave the main cavern in an orderly manner.”
A flurry of questions pelted Ezaara’s mind, making her head reel. “Zaarusha, please help.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll explain.”
Another boom made the walls shudder.
People gathered up littlings and fled through the tunnels. Riders snatched up weapons, leaping on dragons.
Another boom rang ou
t. Now a constant barrage of thuds was coming from the wall. A crack appeared.
Blue dragons swooped into the cavern to collect people. Other dragons were trying to leave. The tunnels were chaotic.
“Use the west tunnels to enter, the east ones to exit,” Queen Zaarusha ordered.
In a shower of shale and granite, a hole was punched through the rear wall. A spray of rocks flew into the cavern, knocking down riders, hitting dragons and burying a handful of littlings at the back of the cavern.
Handel dived. Pa dismounted, plucking up four screaming littlings and throwing them onto Handel. The bronze dragon shot out of a tunnel to take them to safety.
Dark dragons swarmed out of the jagged hole in the rear wall, flame bursting from their maws. Fake wizards rode them, blasting green mage fire. Hundreds of tharuks rushed through the gap.
Ezaara melded with all of their dragons. “Attack! In the main cavern!”
“How dare they,” Zaarusha snarled, charging to meet their foes. Even as screams rang in their heads, she blasted flame at the nearest shadow beasts.
Pa drew his sword. Riders on either side of him formed a ragged wall. They rushed to meet the tharuks.
Ezaara fired an arrow and then another, and another, but still more dragons poured through the gap.
Blue guards swooped into the cavern, their arrows finding tharuks and shadow dragons.
Tharuk archers fired arrows. Dripping with green grunge, the arrows zipped toward dragons.
“Oh no, Zaarusha, limplock,” Ezaara cried. “They’ll paralyze our dragons.”
Zens’ mages fired arrows tipped with methimium beetles. Dragons screamed, writhing in midair as the arrows met their marks. Two blue dragons collided. A ruby dragon snarled, attacking a blue. Amid snarls and thrashing tails, dragon fought dragon. With necks intertwined, they bit and clawed at each other. The ruby dragon ripped a chunk from the blue. It roared, its deafening bellows ringing in Ezaara’s ears. Shards, it was like Maazini all over again. Like herself attacking Ma.
Their people were running, screaming. Dying all around her.
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