She rolled over, grimacing. Her fingers were curled against her palms and, when she got up to walk, she hobbled.
“You feeling all right?” Pa asked.
Lovina smiled, but, to Tomaaz, it looked forced. “Just pins and needles. I’ll be all right,” she said.
But after a few hours in the saddle, with Lovina’s arms and legs spasming, Tomaaz wasn’t so sure.
§
The wind ruffled Hans’ hair. After nearly eighteen years, he’d been surprised to slip so easily into riding Handel again, sensing his dragon’s moods, easing back into the way they worked together as seamlessly as—well, as fabric without seams.
Nearby, Liesar was riding a thermal. On her back, Tomaaz was clinging to her saddle. He seemed to care about this pale slip of a girl, but Hans wasn’t concerned. Tomaaz had liked the baker’s girl just last week. At Dragons’ Hold, there’d be plenty of attractive dragon riders.
“What do you think, Handel? Any pretty riders at the hold for my son?” Hans asked. “Handel?”
Something was off. Handel was avoiding mind-melding, a sure sign that he was having visions. “What is it, Handel? You’ve seen a vision, haven’t you?”
“Yes, but there’s no point in stopping. These forests are too thickly wooded to land.”
It was a dire vision, if they had to land. “Is everything all right at Dragons’ Hold?”
“Things haven’t been all right at the hold since you left, but no, that’s not it,” Handel replied. “I don’t want to burden you before we can take action.”
Burden him? It was something personal. And taking action meant doing something other than flying to Dragons’ Hold, so it couldn’t be Ezaara. With a sinking hollow in his gut, Hans asked, “It’s Marlies, isn’t it?”
Liesar chimed in. “You have to tell us. We have a right to know.”
“The visions were vague, but they’ve been getting stronger.”
Not a good sign.
“Is this the one of Marlies injured?” Liesar asked.
“Marlies is injured and you didn’t tell me?” Hans blurted out loud.
“It was always blurry, swimmy.”
Uncertain, then. “And now?” Hans’ heart pounded.
“Now, I see her dying. And it’s not vague at all.”
§
Liesar was descending. Tomaaz held on to the saddle, his stomach doing somersaults and his head spinning like a littling playing swing-about. Lovina gave him an encouraging smile—which made him feel like a total greenhorn. She touched his hand as Liesar spiraled down between the trees to a clearing, thick with thistles. He shut his eyes. Thistles or not, the sooner his feet were on solid land, the better.
Pa slid from Handel’s back and raced over. His face was lined with tension. “Tomaaz, I need a word.” He strode off so they could speak privately.
Tomaaz slid down the saddle, clutching at the straps. He bent, hands on his knees and sucked in a few deep breaths, then hurried after Pa.
Pa was pacing, ignoring the thistle thorns catching on his breeches.
Tomaaz narrowed his eyes. What was going on?
“I won’t beat cream into butter, Tomaaz. Your ma’s in danger.”
Tomaaz inhaled sharply. “What’s happened?”
“Handel’s had a vision. Your mother is dying.”
Panic surged through Tomaaz. “Where is she?”
“She’s in Death Valley.”
Death Valley! “Has she been captured? Is she a slave?”
“I don’t know, Son.” Pa tugged a hand through his hair. “I just don’t know. Handel has seen her dying if we don’t intervene.”
“Then let’s go. Now.”
“Death Valley’s four days’ flight away.” Pa laid a restraining hand on Tomaaz’s arm. “Son, we need a solid plan. We can’t take Lovina. She’s in no condition to enter such dangerous territory.”
It was like a punch to the gut. “But I want to save Ma.”
“You can. You’re fit to travel.”
It took Tomaaz a moment. “No!” His mind reeled. “No, we can’t leave Lovina here. That’s crazy!”
“It is,” Pa agreed. “That’s not what I’m proposing. It’s only a day’s flight from Dragons’ Hold. Liesar can take Lovina to safety while we rescue your mother.” Pa held his palm up. “Neither you or Liesar like it, but there’s no other way.”
“I’m sticking with Lovina.” Tomaaz broadened his stance. Pa could say what he liked, he wasn’t changing his mind. “I’m not letting her travel alone.”
“She won’t be alone, Son.” Pa said, sounding totally reasonable, as if he wasn’t discarding someone Tomaaz cared about. “Liesar will protect her.”
Lovina needed him. She had no one else. Tomaaz folded his arms across his chest.
“Tomaaz,” Pa said, “Handel has told me that you’re crucial to your mother’s survival. I won’t trade her life for a girl you hardly know. Your mother will die without you.”
A girl he hardly knew? Her art. Her smiles. Her trembling body when her night terrors hit. He knew her, and he wanted to know more. He wanted to protect her. She’d been hurt before because of his mistakes.
But he couldn’t let his mother die.
§
“I’ll be back. Take care and speed well,” Tomaaz whispered, his breath caressing Lovina’s neck.
Lovina clung to him. Her broken arm, sandwiched between them, throbbed. This pain in her arm kept things real. Life was full of hurt, separation. Death.
Zens would kill Tomaaz too.
She squeezed her eyes shut, holding back hot tears. No one got out of Death Valley alive, unless Zens willed it.
“Lovina, you must have hope.” Tomaaz pulled back to look at her.
Chill air snaked between them.
“You have to believe I can do this,” he insisted.
“Do I?” Her voice came out flat. She willed herself to believe him, but his warmth was sucked into a dark cold whirlpool inside her.
“I have to try and save Ma.”
She nodded. Family was family.
“Lovina,” he whispered, “I want to stay with you.”
Her heart leaped. Did he mean it?
He slid his arms from her shoulders, gazing at her.
No, he was memorizing her
