So, this was about Ezaara. “Honestly? In the middle of the night?” Lars sighed. “It couldn’t wait until morning?”
Tonio leaned forward, firelight flickering across the hard planes of his face. “I’ve been spymaster for thirty years. Something’s off. I couldn’t sleep.”
Neither could he now. Lars sighed. “Look, I know it’s been a long time since Zaarusha’s last rider. Ezaara’s young, inexperienced and needs training, but she can fly.”
Tonio’s eyes narrowed as he nodded in reply. “Yes, their stunt today was very impressive. But how do we know she’s imprinted properly?”
“Well, Roberto says the bond is strong. That he’s never seen one like it before.”
“Convenient, isn’t it?” There was nothing warm about Tonio’s smile.
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, Lars. She’s from Lush Valley, far from here. A superstitious place with no connection to dragons. We’ve never had riders from Lush Valley.”
Where was this going? “Yes, we were all surprised.”
“What if she’s a fake? A traitor?”
Lars shook his head. “Impossible. Roberto has tested her. She’s fine.”
“Exactly.” Tonio stabbed a finger in the air.
“Exactly what?”
“We only have Roberto’s word.”
“I trust him.”
“I know. Others have made that mistake before, Lars.”
“He’s changed, Tonio, you should know that. As a council member, he’s been impeccable.” A memory popped to mind. Tonio had voted against Roberto becoming the master of mental faculties and imprinting. Lars gripped the arm of his chair.
Tonio was coiled, like a predator. “What if Roberto’s been biding his time, waiting for an opportunity? What if she’s a traitor too?” He leaped out of his seat, pacing. “What if Zaarusha’s been given swayweed and Ezaara is a spy? It would be simple for Roberto to fake an imprinting test and give us a positive result. He’s accomplished, good at what he does. I’ve never truly believed that he’s turned his back on Zens.”
“I trust Roberto. And Zaarusha.” Lars stood. “With my life.” Tonio had gone far enough. “You know if you come with a complaint, I need proof to take to the council, not hunches or gossip. And not at this hour.”
The firelight cast shadows on the spymaster’s clenched jaw. “Then I shall find you evidence. I’m sorry for interrupting your sleep.” Tonio slipped out the door.
The log cracked and fell into the grate in a shower of sparks.
§
Roberto slid his knife under the wooden dragon’s snout and smoothed the curve of the beast’s neck. A few more shavings and he’d be done. He made small deft nicks in the wood, like scales, then held up his carving to examine it in the torchlight.
There, that was a good night’s work. Better than tossing and turning.
He rubbed the loose shavings off his mother’s cane, wincing as he remembered her using it in what should have been the prime of her life. Earlier tonight, the head of the cane had been broad and thick, before he’d shaped it into Zaarusha’s likeness. He grunted. The dragon wasn’t perfect, but it would do. Now it just needed oiling to bring out the hues of the wood.
Should he wait until morning? No, he was too restless to sleep, the colors of his brief mind-meld with Ezaara flashing into his head whenever he lay down. That, and the look on her face at Simeon’s attention. He’d have to watch them. Roberto shook his head. Sometimes his talents were more trouble than they were worth. He longed for his littling days, swimming off the Naobian coast, fishing with his Pa, for life before—
No. He couldn’t go there.
He laid the cane on his bed. He might as well oil it now. The walk to fetch oil would do him good. If he was quick, he could still catch a couple of hours’ sleep.
The torches had burned low, casting more shadow than light, as Roberto walked along the tunnels to the craft halls. On a back shelf, among the woodworking tools, he found an earthen jar of walnut oil, and picked it up before heading back to his cavern.
Quiet footfalls echoed along the tunnel. It was nearly dawn. Who was sneaking around at this time of night? Roberto rounded a corner. A man was in the shadows of the corridor. Simeon? No, not Simeon. Someone with dark hair. Tonio, the spymaster, was emerging from Lars’ cavern. Something dire must be going on for Tonio to be skulking around the halls at this time.
Tonio’s eyes fell upon the jar Roberto was holding. He frowned as he passed, giving Roberto a curt nod.
“Morning,” Roberto replied. Now was as good a time as any to tell Tonio what he suspected about Bruno and Fleur. “Tonio, do you have a moment?”
“Of course not,” Tonio snapped. “It’s the middle of the night. We should both be in bed.” The spymaster strode off.
Prophecy
“Good morning, Ezaara.”
Morning already? Groaning, Ezaara rolled over. Her ankle was throbbing.
“Sorry I woke you.” Adelina set a breakfast tray on a table.
Ezaara struggled to sit up.
“Here, let me help you.” Adelina raced over to the bed.
“I’m fine. Please. It’s bad enough that I hurt myself and ruined my clothes last night. I don’t want to be pitied or fussed over.”
Adelina backed away. “I’d feel the same. Ready for breakfast? It’s cinnamon and honey porridge, topped with fresh cream.”
The aroma was incredible. Ezaara’s mouth watered. “Soon.” She flipped back her quilt and edged her injured leg off the bed. That hurt. She tried to stand, and grabbed the bedpost, wincing.
Understanding flashed across Adelina’s face. “I need the latrine too. Shall we go together?”
“Great Queen’s Rider I am. Can’t even pee on my own.”
Adelina smiled. “You’ve flown the first loop in years. You can’t let a twisted ankle beat you.”
“I’m just no good at any of this. In fact, I’m not
