Pa’s dragon, Handel, was resting, his tail curled around his huge bronze body. Pa and Handel had the gift of prophecy. If anyone knew the outcome of this trip, it would be them. Thank the Egg, Handel was alone. She couldn’t risk telling Pa how she felt about Roberto.
“Handel, please tell me,” Ezaara mind-melded. “Will Roberto and Tomaaz be safe in Death Valley?” She hid her feelings for her master so Handel wouldn’t know.
Handel snorted. “Death Valley is always dangerous. As Queen’s Rider, you should know that.”
“I’m asking about this specific trip. Will anything happen to them?”
He huffed, his breath stirring up dust. “You thought I could conjure up a quick prophecy to reassure yourself about your master and your brother? These are perilous times, my Queen’s Rider. You heard the council. Commander Zens is creating new monsters to overthrow us—worse than tharuks—beasts that can easily kill dragons. We must know everything we can about these new enemies.”
“I know, it’s just that—”
“You want reassurance, comfort, and safety.” Handel’s tail twitched. “Nowhere is safe. Not even Lush Valley, now that tharuks have breached the pass.”
Why wouldn’t he answer her? “Handel, listen.”
“No, you listen. I’ve recently returned from the edge of Death Valley and fought Zen’s tharuks. I wouldn’t wish that experience on anyone.” He leaned his head down. “I can show you, but don’t blame me if it’s not what you want to see.”
Although she could mind-meld with any dragon without touching them, when she’d last touched Handel, it had prompted a rush of prophetic visions. Ezaara put a hand on Handel’s hide. This time, there was a single vision. One she’d seen before: Roberto’s face was a mask of hate as he lunged for her—
Ezaara yanked her hand away.
Handel blinked his emerald eyes. “This may not come to pass.”
“A vision so strong? I’ve seen it twice now …” Her stomach clenched. Roberto hurt her? No.
“All right, so maybe it will happen.” Handel twitched his scaly shoulders and wrapped his tail around his body.
No. Ezaara refused to accept it. She clung to a sliver of hope. Roberto loved her. Surely, he would never harm her. She shuddered, staring down at the dark forest in the basin of Dragons’ Hold.
§
Zaarusha landed in the orchard, the draft from her wings making the autumn leaves flutter. Ezaara slid down to the ground and patted her side. “Thank you.”
The dragon queen furled her wings and went over to nuzzle her son, Erob, resting on the grass.
Roberto took Ezaara by the hand and led her under an apple tree. His onyx eyes blazing, he pulled her into his arms. “I swear it, Ezaara. I swear I’ll come back to you.” He buried his lips in her hair, kissing the top of her head.
Ezaara’s heart banged against her ribcage like a battle drum. “So many things could go wrong,” she mind-melded. “Why did you volunteer? Zens could kill you.”
“Someone’s got to go. I know Death Valley.”
“Yes, and Zens knows you. He’ll chew you up and spit you out before breakfast.”
“Ezaara—”
“I don’t like it.” She mind-melded with the queen. “Zaarusha, tell him he can stay.”
Zaarusha replied, “Roberto and Tomaaz are the logical choices.”
The sadness in his dark eyes made her breath catch. Neither of them wanted him to go, but he would serve their queen.
“Let’s enjoy our time together,” Roberto said. They sat on a log and he fished in his pocket, pulling out a purple pouch of aged velvet. “This is for you.” He passed it to her. “Go on, open it.”
“Thank you.” Ezaara hadn’t expected a gift. She loosened the silken drawstring and tipped up the pouch. A crystal teardrop on a fine silver chain slid into her palm. She held it up. The teardrop twirled in the sun, casting tiny rainbows across Roberto’s face. “It’s beautiful.”
“My mother gave it to me before she died. It belonged to my grandmother. Ma said it was magic, although she never used it.”
“Magic? What does it do?”
“I’m not sure, but I wanted to give you something special. I hope it’ll comfort you while I’m gone.” His fingers traced her cheek, lingering. “Besides, I wouldn’t want you to forget me.”
Forget him? He was seared into her soul. “It was your mother’s. It should go to Adelina.”
“Ma gave Adelina another heirloom. This one’s mine—and now it belongs to you.”
The crystal hummed beneath her fingertips. “That’s strange. It’s vibrating.” She closed her palm around its smooth, comforting surface. “You won’t be here for my name day tomorrow.”
“You’re seventeen summers tomorrow? I’m sorry.” His eyes were tinged with regret.
She shrugged. “I have something for you too.” She pulled a crinkled green ribbon out of her pocket and passed it to him.
His eyes widened. “I gave that back to Adelina when I was banished.”
And Adelina had thrown the ribbon in Ezaara’s face, blaming her for her brother’s banishment, because the ribbon Ezaara had given him had constituted a vow between Queen’s Rider and her trainer—that he would pledge his life to protect Ezaara.
And he had. He’d taken the blame when she’d been framed for murder, knowing she’d never survive the Wastelands and the Robandi desert assassins.
“When I gave you this ribbon, I didn’t know it formed a pledge. Did you realize?” she asked.
“I suspected.”
“Then why did you take it?”
“Because I wanted to protect you.” His midnight eyes flashed.
“Even though you were being so arrogant?”
“Like this?” Roberto straightened, staring down his nose at her, and curled his lip. “Yes, my Queen’s Rider,” he said in that sarcastic cold voice he was so good at.
She whacked him, smiling. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”
Roberto threw back his head and
