On silent feet, Ithsar lunged and drove her saber at the beast on his legs, but as she neared, her shadow danced across Stefan’s face. Alerted, the beasts both spun. The larger one barged into Ithsar, slamming her backward onto the cobbles. She rolled through a pile of ice and snow, and bounded to her feet. Then danced in, feinting left. The beast took her ruse, and lunged. She sidestepped and slashed her saber across its neck. Tufts of fur flew through the air and dark blood sprayed as the beast dropped dead.
The other beast bellowed.
Ithsar danced in close, and then sprang through the air, kicking her foot at the beast’s chest. It landed in the snow and skidded backward. She landed nimbly, and drove her saber through the monster’s throat. Dark blood gushed, spraying her saber and legs. The beast gurgled and was still.
Ithsar pulled her saber from its neck and wiped the blade upon its fur.
“Wow.” Stefan sat up. Despite his pale face and the blood trickling down his neck, his eyes were shining. “You were amazing.”
She panted, wiped her saber again, and sheathed it. As the hilt smacked the top of the sheath, she gave a grim smile. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you.” He scrambled to his feet. “You saved my life.”
“Are you all right?” Ithsar eyed his neck.
“Nothing but a scratch.” He staunched the blood with his hand. “Let’s get back to our dragons.”
A thundering roar shook the rooftops and snow slid to the ground, splattering into a pool of mush at their feet. Ithsar grabbed Stefan’s free hand and they ran back to the square.
The cobbles were littered with charred carcasses of tharuks and shadow dragons. A smoky haze filled the air. Dead villagers lay slumped on the cobbles. Roaring shadow dragons shot overhead. Flames blazed in the distance.
Ithsar ripped a piece of fabric off her robe and wiped his neck. He was right; it wasn’t too bad. “You’ll need to get that treated by a healer,” she said, tearing off another strip and binding his wound. Then she clasped Stefan’s arms tightly. “Stay on dragonback. It’s safer.”
Stefan shook his head. “I had to get down. A littling was in trouble.”
Ithsar nodded. “I know. I think she liked your chocolate.”
Fangora landed with a thud and nuzzled Stefan. He grinned. Saritha landed, her talons clattering on the cobbles. They climbed onto their dragons and took off toward the distant roars and the flame punching through the night sky.
§
Kisha aimed her arrow and loosed it at a tharuk racing along the alley after a villager. Roars broke out on the far side of town. Snarls and answering roars thundered above and flame lit up the night sky. A wing of shadow dragons flew overhead.
An arrow swished past her cheek as Kadran fired at a tharuk who was slamming a man against the side of a building.
“Quick,” hissed Katrine, grabbing her hand.
They scrambled across rooftops, slipping in the snow, as a volley of answering arrows hailed on the roof behind them. Panting, they perched between two chimneys and nocked their bows.
Hana and Kadran shot at shadow dragons wheeling in the air. Katrine and Kisha drew their bows and fired upon tharuks thundering down the street. A blaze of fire lit up the night sky as a shadow dragon shot over the rooftops, claws out, heading for the square.
Despite her thundering heart, Kisha took aim and fired. Her arrow nicked the edge of the dragon’s wing, shredding its wingtip. The beast’s shrieks of pain echoed through her head as if someone was pounding it with a mallet.
“Look out,” Kadran yelled, thrusting Kisha to the rooftop as a volley of flame and blistering heat roiled in the air above them.
“We have to get out of here. It’s too dangerous,” Kadran said. “Two roofs over, there’s another rope. Let’s go.”
Kisha scrambled to her feet and rushed along the roof after Hana and Katrine. A screech ripped through her head that made her knees buckle. She stumbled on the steep-gabled roof and started sliding. Kadran threw himself to the ridge top and flung out his bow. Kisha grabbed it and scrabbled with her feet as, slowly, he pulled her back up.
“Thank you,” Kisha panted.
More roars split the sky as dragons converged over the village. Green and turquoise scales flashed in the light of surges of flame above them. Blue guards? Naobian green guards? But this was so far from Naobia…
Dark leathery wings obscured the stars. Twin beams of light shot through the night from fiery golden eyes. The beams sliced through the bow in Kisha’s hands. The weapon shattered into smoldering pieces.
“Hurry,” Hana cried from the end of the rooftop.
Still clutching a remnant of her bow, Kisha ran, pounding across the ridge, Kadran close behind. The shadow dragon swept over them again, its scream cutting through Kisha’s mind.
“Look out,” Katrine screamed, yanking her across the rooftop, nearly pulling her shoulder from its socket. When they reached a massive drop, Katrine didn’t stop running. Kisha followed blindly, flying through the air.
She landed on a roof below, jarring her legs through her knees to her hip sockets, and scrambled over so Kadran could land behind her.
Ahead of them, Hana turned and screamed, “No!”
Heat roiled over them. Kisha flung herself onto the tiles. An agonized shriek rang out behind her. The stench of charred fabric and burnt flesh filled her nostrils. Kisha glanced back and her jaw dropped in horror.
Kadran was engulfed in a flaming pyre.
§
Ithsar, Stefan, and Misha sped away from the square, their dragons’ wingtips nearly touching as they glided over the roofs. The fighting in this quarter had now been subdued, but on the other side of town, flame lit up the night sky and screeches made Ithsar’s nape hair prickle.
“There’s something off about those beasts,” Saritha grumbled. “They’re strange, unnatural.”
Screeches ripped through Ithsar’s head, making her temples pound and her senses reel. She gripped onto the saddle, panting, knuckles clenched tight, and gritted her teeth, trying to withstand it. This was nothing, she told herself, nothing compared to the burns, brands, and beatings Izoldia had given her. They had to save these villagers at all costs.
“Not at all costs, Ithsar,” Saritha replied. “I’ve only just met you—I don’t want to lose you.”
Thika scrambled out of Saritha’s saddlebag and across Ithsar’s lap. She snatched him up and thrust him back inside as ragged dark wings flapped above them. Saritha shot up, belching a volley of flame at a shadow dragon’s belly. The beast shrieked and plummeted through the air, its wings alight. It crashed through a roof, setting the thatch ablaze. A family screamed and raced outside as the dragon’s burning body engulfed their house in flame.
“Gods, now we’re destroying their homes.” Ithsar’s throat clenched.
“It’s nothing compared to what those beasts are doing,” Saritha answered.
In the next alley over, two shadow dragons were flaming thatch. The screams of burning people echoed up through the volley of flames, and the stench of crisped flesh filled the air. Misha and Nila shot in, Ramisha and Nilanna flaming the dark dragons from above. Fangora joined them, setting another dragon’s wings alight, as Stefan fired arrows. The shadow dragons plummeted onto the buildings in a spray of cinders and sparks. The flames leaped higher, consuming their bodies.
“I want to save the villagers,” Ithsar cried desperately, “not destroy them.”
“Here’s our chance.” Saritha shot toward a shadow dragon chasing a ragged band of people running across rooftops. They slipped and slid, leaving gouges in snow-laden tiles, the dragon’s flames nearly upon them. Ithsar and Saritha dived in. As they neared, the shadow dragon extinguished its flames. Yellow beams shot from its eyes, slicing into the flesh of a man at the back of the ragtag group. He stumbled and slipped off the ridge of the roof, leaving bloody red gouges in the snow.
Saritha dived, but before they could reach him, the shadow dragon dived, and hi
s body flared in a burst of fire and fell off the roof near a horde of tharuks. Saritha sped alongside the dark dragon, and Ithsar fired an arrow into its skull. The scream in her head intensified, and then stilled. The beast’s body flipped and smacked into the building, scattering roof tiles, and dropping into the street.
Saritha landed on the rooftop.
Ithsar called out, “Come, let us ferry you to a safe place.” Although where a safe place was, she didn’t quite know. In the dark, it was hard to tell who was winning and who was losing. Bursts of flame illuminated green scales and then black. Yellow beams sliced through the sky. Arrows whooshed. It was chaos. Three people ran back to Ithsar—two girls about her age and a woman.
The woman clambered up behind Ithsar, sobbing, “M-my husband.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Ithsar said. What else could she say? There was nothing that could erase the horror this woman had just experienced.
One of the girls climbed up, but before the other could get upon Saritha’s back, a shadow dragon arrowed for them, a green guard on its tail. Saritha tensed and sprang, then swooped over the roof to snatch up the remaining girl. She soared over the village, back to the square, as the harrowing wails of shadow dragons skittered down Ithsar’s bones.
The Lost King Inn
Saritha flew across the rooftops, the snow now scattered with ash and debris, and spiraled down toward the square, the girl still hanging from her talons. Avoiding the dead bodies of shadow dragons, tharuks, and villagers, she deposited the girl on the cobbles, then settled back on her haunches. Ramisha and Nilanna were picking up corpses in their talons and piling them at one end of the square.
Ithsar dismounted and helped the woman and the other girl off Saritha.
“I’m Ithsar,” she said, holding out her hand, as was the custom of these northerners.
The old woman shook it. “And I’m Katrine. Thank you for rescuing us from those terrible beasts.”
The sky on the far side of the village still blazed with fire, although there now seemed to be more green dragons than dark ones. Despite the shadow dragons’ screeches in her head, Ithsar smiled. “Don’t thank me. Please thank Saritha.” She hesitated. “I’m, um, very sorry about your husband.”
“He died fighting to save lives. An honorable death.” The woman’s eyes were bright with unshed tears and she held her head high. She gestured at the girls. “My daughter, Hana, and this is Kisha, Anakisha’s granddaughter.”
Ithsar shook the girls’ hands too. The girl with the vibrant blue eyes and dark hair was the granddaughter of the legendary Anakisha? Even Ithsar had heard the stories of the bravery and courage of the former Queen’s Rider who’d been lost in battle nineteen years ago.
Saritha nudged Ithsar with her snout. “I’d like to meet Anakisha’s heir.”
“Kisha, please place your hand on Saritha’s forehead. She’d like to introduce herself to you.”
“It’s you.” Kisha stared at Ithsar, those bright blue eyes wide. “I saw you in a vision. I knew you’d come.”
“Me?” Ithsar frowned. “You have visions?”
Nodding, the girl touched Saritha’s snout.
“You have much in common,” Saritha thrummed in Ithsar’s mind. “She has a keen mind, special lineage, and the gift of prophecy, like you.”
Her voice breathy, Kisha murmured, “Jade scales that sparkle silver. Out of all the dragons’ scales I’ve seen growing up, I’ve never seen any like hers.”
“That’s because Saritha is a sea dragon,” Ithsar said. “I only imprinted with her a moon or two ago. She’s queen of the sea dragons and I am the new chief prophetess of the Robandi assassins.” It still felt strange to say it aloud.
Kisha’s face lit up like the blazing desert sun. “So you see visions too? I’ve always wanted to meet someone else who could.”
“Yes, I do. I had a terrible vision, and then received a message via raven, so I’ve come north to help Ezaara, the new Queen’s Rider.”
Kisha nodded. “Good. If you’d like a place to stay, I can offer—”
A tavern door burst open and two brawling tharuks spilled out onto the cobbles, gouging each other’s eyes.
“They must’ve run out of food,” Kisha said. “That’s my tavern, the Lost King Inn, named after Anakisha’s husband, Yanir. In fact, this entire town of Last Stop was the last place Anakisha stopped before they were both lost in battle. If you help me clear out the tharuks, you’ll have a place to stay.” Her eyes flicked to the dragons. “The riders, at least.”
With a roar, one tharuk slit the gut of the other, then surged to its feet, bellowing, and dashed back inside. Crashes and the smash of splintering wood came from the tavern.
Ithsar grinned and held her sword high, issuing the battle cry of the Sathiri, “Avanta!”
Misha and Nila flocked to her, and with Kisha, Hana, and Katrine, they surged in through the tavern door.
Ithsar spun, slicing her sword through a tharuk’s gut. Another tharuk leaped from the table through the air. Nila lunged, impaling the beast on her sword. The tharuk crashed into her, the impact driving her to her knees, the point of her saber poking through its back.
Nila kicked the tharuk away and sprang onto a table, slashing another’s throat. Misha spun her saber, slicing a beast’s arm as it lunged toward her. Two enormous beasts lifted a table and threw it across the room at the assassins. For a moment, their reflections glimmered in the dark polished wood as it flew toward them. Ithsar rolled, Misha lunged and Nila ducked. The table crashed into the wall, splinters and shards flying across the tavern. A large chunk of wood impaled itself in a tharuk’s eye. It fell to its knees, clutching at its face, screaming, as dark blood sprayed over them.
And then Ithsar saw Thika scurrying across the floor. Oh no! That silly lizard was going to get himself killed.
§
Stefan and Fangora landed in the village square. A window in a tavern shattered as a tharuk was hurled through it into the dirt-strewn snow. More gouges in the snow showed where dragons had been. There was a pile of bodies, and corpses scattered nearby, as if someone had been interrupted while clearing away the dead.
“Saritha, Nilanna, and Ramisha are battling shadow dragons, but they told me their riders are fighting inside that building.” Fangora sprang across the square. Stefan slid to the ground and ran toward the tavern.
The door smashed open, ripped off its hinges as an enormous tharuk charged outside.
Stefan was ready. He swung his sword, slashing at the brute and scoring its face. The beast’s eyes slitted. Stinking breath and sticky blood washed over Stefan as a fury of claws and fur dived at him. He ducked and swooped in from the side the way Ithsar had taught him, driving his sword through the beast’s thick fur. With a crunch of bone he pierced its ribs. An agonized snarl ripped from the beast as it fell to its knees. Stefan drove his sword until the hilt smacked fur, and ducked to avoid the tharuk’s flailing claws. The monster twitched and stilled, lifeless.
Pressing his foot on the tharuk’s torso, Stefan yanked out his sword, and raced into the Lost King.
Snarls and roars split the air. The tavern was a whirl of orange-robed assassins’ swirling cloaks, tufts of flying fur, and pools of dark blood. Dead tharuks were slumped over tables and on the floor, but more were still fighting.
He gasped. A tharuk was chasing Ithsar. She nimbly leaped over a broken chair and swiped her saber at the beast. It slashed and she jumped backward—awesome footwork, but she didn’t realize she was about to be cornered.
Stefan sprang onto a tabletop, raced across it, and jumped over a tharuk’s sharp, swiping claws. Narrowly missing an assassin’s blade, he landed amid smashed crockery and splattered egg and ran.
With rapid swipes of its claws, the tharuk drove Ithsar against the bar. It kicked her saber out of her grip and jammed her neck against the lip of the counter, snarling over her. Ithsar gurgled, eyes wide, and kneed the tharuk’s stomach. She palmed a dagger from her sleeve
.
Stefan wasn’t taking chances. He plunged his sword between the beast’s shoulder blades. It slumped over Ithsar and they fell onto the blood-slicked floor. Only black blood, thank the First Egg. Stefan kicked the beast aside and lifted Ithsar in his arms. Gods, she was so tiny. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Her eyes blazed. “I could have got out of that on my own. Now, put me down.”
“But—” Stefan choked on his reply and put her on her feet. He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Oh, sorry for interfering.” Like flaming dragon’s breath, he was.
Ithsar grinned. “Now we’re even. One save each.”
He bit back a smile. She’d been teasing him. Stefan snatched his sword out of the dead tharuk’s back and spun back to the fight.
Kitchen Brawl
One moment, Kisha had been fighting a tharuk next to Katrine, swords flashing. The next, Katrine was chasing the tharuk over a table—and Kisha was facing another beast on her own. The brute whacked her arm, smashing her sword out of her grip. And then, red eyes glinting with malice, it charged.
Kisha dashed past a lanky lad in rider’s garb and Ithsar, who were fighting a tharuk near the bar. She threw a tankard at the charging brute’s head. The tharuk shrugged it off and kept coming. She ran into the kitchen, scanning the benches for a weapon. Snorting, the tharuk chased her. It thundered past a counter, tusks angled to rip through her body.
Kisha yanked a heavy frying pan from the range and swung. The clang of the tharuk’s tusks against metal made her ears ring and her wrists and elbows throb. Kisha swung again, but the tharuk ducked out of the way and snarled at her, its tusks dripping dark saliva.
Another tharuk crashed through the kitchen door, smashing it to pieces. “What we got here?” It grinned—the ugliest smile Kisha had ever seen.
Kisha threw the pan. It glanced off a bench and hit one of the tharuks in the knee. She grabbed the nearest thing she could—a wooden rolling pin—not as heavy as the pan, but easier to wield. As the first tharuk ran at her, she swung the rolling pin and smacked it in the head. The rolling pin shattered in two, the top half flying into a barrel. The tharuk reeled, unsteady on its feet. Kisha leaped onto the kitchen bench and thonked the tharuk on the head with the other half. The monster crashed to the floor.
Riders of Fire Complete Series Box Set books 1-6: YA Epic Fantasy Dragon Rider Adventures Page 173