His sense of danger grew.
A faint scrape sounded on the fowl house roof. Hans whipped around.
Bill landed on the grass, his knife flashing.
Hans gave a mental groan. He hadn’t thought to look up at the roof. His senses sharpened. “Want to talk, Bill?”
Bill spat at Hans’ feet. “Talk to the likes of you?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ha! I saw your stinking daughter, gone with the queen of flying lizards.”
Had Bill been in the forest for Zaarusha’s visit? Keeping his eyes on Bill, Hans edged toward a large stick lying on the grass.
“Suppose you think she’s the new Queen’s Rider?” Bill smirked. “Not if I have my way.” His eyes gleamed unnaturally in the dark.
So, he’d recognized Zaarusha. Hans’ muscles were taut, his gaze steady on Bill’s face. “Oh?”
“Hah. Crows. I sent a crow to 458—the best tharuk tracker. Zens will have the entire army hunting your wife. The crow knows her, now.”
Hans’ blood froze, a chill creeping through him. He maintained a light tone as he edged toward the stick. “Why’s that, Bill?”
“Your wife. You. Your daughter. All dragon riders, aren’t you? Wait ’til Klaus and the settlement council hear about this. They hate riders and those hideous beasts. ‘Protectors of the realm’ indeed.” Bill added spittle to his sarcasm.
“As much as they despise tharuk spies?”
Bill snarled and leaped forward, slashing with his knife.
Hans lunged sideways and rolled. He leaped to his feet, grasping the stick.
Grunting in surprise, Bill glowered as they gauged each other, both looking for an opening.
“I know your dirty secret,” Bill snapped. “Dragon lover!”
“Get off my land, Bill.” Hans made his voice steely. He hefted his stick.
Bill gritted his teeth, eyes like fire on a blade. He darted for Hans’ chest.
Hans swung his stick, connecting with Bill’s knife. The blade arced through the air, landing on the grass. “I said, get off my land,” Hans growled.
Bill snatched up his knife, spat at Hans, and ran off toward the settlement hub.
Hans frowned. Bill’s eyes had shone with an oddly-familiar light.
He shrugged. It was probably nothing. Klaus’ grandfather, Frugar, had been a dragon rider but he’d died in a fierce battle. His son Joris, Klaus’ father, had been bitter about Frugar’s death, turning everyone against the very creatures that protected the realm. As a result, Klaus and the entire settlement had grown up hating dragons. Where would Klaus’ loyalty lie when he discovered his family had once been dragon riders?
Hans trudged inside, ready for his next battle. “Come on, Son. I know you don’t feel like it, but we have to get to Klaus’ meeting.”
His back to Hans, Tomaaz stabbed the fire with the poker, then whirled, holding the metal rod like a sword. “I have no choice,” he spat, throwing the poker.
It clanged against the hearthstone, making Hans flinch. “Tomaaz—”
A sigh hissed from his son’s lips. “Don’t panic, Pa. I won’t tell your nasty little secrets.”
“Thanks, Son.” Not perfect, but it would have to do. “Let’s go.”
Tomaaz stalked toward the door, but someone knocked before he got there. He flung it open and admitted Ernst, his wife Ana, and son, Lofty.
“Evening,” Hans said, wishing he and Tomaaz had more time to talk alone.
Ana closed the door behind them. “Hans, we’d like to support your family.” Voice quiet, she raised a hand to cut off Hans’ protest. “We suspect your lives aren’t what they appear, but we’ll stand by you. We agreed you should have this.” She gave Hans a brown velvet pouch. “It contains a few useful things, including my mother’s magic ring, imbued with dragon power.”
A magic ring of dragon power? Pocketing the pouch, Hans fought to keep the surprise from his face.
Tomaaz moved closer, shooting him a keen glance.
“If you’re in a tight corner, with nowhere to go, rub the ring and say my name.” Ana leaned in. “It’s short for my mother’s name, Anakisha, the last Queen’s Rider.”
“Thank you.” A chill snaked down his spine. When Anakisha had become Queen’s Rider, her children had already been scattered, far from Dragons’ Hold, to keep their identities hidden. Now, Anakisha’s daughter stood right here in front of him. Had been for years.
Ana studied him. “I see you knew her, or knew of her.”
Hans felt naked—had their careful cover not fooled anyone?
“We’ve long suspected you and Marlies were riders,” Ernst said, his shaggy eyebrows drawn into a frown. “We’d better get going. Klaus hates stragglers.”
Tomaaz and Lofty were elbowing each other, heading for the door.
“Tomaaz, wait,” Hans called. “Thank you, Ana. Ernst, we’ll catch up with you.” He shut the door behind them.
Kneeling before the fire, Hans whipped a knife from his belt and prized it beneath the loose stone at the front of the hearth. If anything happened to him, Tomaaz needed resources and a plan. Hans lifted the entire stone away. Reaching his fingers into the cavity, he angled them back toward the room. With a click, the floorboard in front of the fireplace sprung open.
Tomaaz knelt next to the loose floorboard as Hans pulled dark fabric from under the floor. “My dragon riders’ garb. Marlies has hers with her.” He showed Tomaaz a coin purse, then tucked the jerkins and breeches away again, and retrieved Ana’s velvet pouch from his pocket. Placing the purse and pouch on top of his dragon riders’ garb, he replaced the floorboard and wedged the stone back into the hearth. He kept his voice low. “If anything happens to me, take Ana’s pouch and those silvers and head for Dragons’ Hold.”
“Where’s Dragons’ Hold?”
“North, past
