Adelina’s face shuttered. “It’s complicated.”
“Does she live here, at Dragons’ Hold?”
Her features tightened. “No, Roberto and I came here alone, five years ago. I was ten and he was fourteen.” Adelina stared off into the distance, frowning.
Ezaara ate in silence. She’d obviously touched a raw nerve. Adelina looked more like her brother with that dark expression on her face—not that he’d been brooding this morning.
Reaching for her cane, Ezaara made her way across the room.
Adelina passed her some riders’ garb. “The jerkin should be fine, but it’s going to be tough to get these breeches on over that ankle. What about a skirt?”
Ezaara shook her head. That’d make her stand out even more. “If you don’t mind helping me, we could do battle with the breeches.”
“Sure.” Adelina smiled, looking more like her old self again.
When she was dressed, Ezaara hobbled out to Zaarusha, using her cane. Zaarusha’s scales stretched high above her like a multi-faceted jewel glimmering in the sun. How was she ever going to get on her dragon with this rotten ankle?
“I’m sure we can manage.” Zaarusha crooned, crouching down.
Ezaara tried to climb, but pain shot through her ankle. She grimaced. The last thing she wanted to do was call Erob. She had to prove she could do something.
“Try this.” Adelina boosted Ezaara onto the dragon’s back. “You’ll manage if you always get on this side so your injured leg gets dragged up behind you.” Adelina passed up her cane.
“Thanks.”
Zaarusha stood, jostling her ankle. “Sorry.” She leaped off the ledge, and they were airborne.
Relief whooshed out of Ezaara. She was riding on her own again—like a true Queen’s Rider.
“What do you mean, ‘like a true Queen’s Rider’? You are the true Queen’s Rider. Don’t you forget it.”
“I keep making so many mistakes.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You can’t learn everything in a day.”
They spiraled down toward the orchard. Oh, shards! How was she going to dismount?
§
Roberto’s students were clustered in the grass under the plum trees, heads bent as they discussed their parents’ imprinting stories, trying to find common aspects. With students of all ages, it was a challenging class, often involving lively discussion.
At the swish of wings, Roberto turned from his students. Zaarusha and Ezaara were arriving. Ezaara’s ankle mustn’t be that bad if she’d managed to get onto her dragon alone. He was a fool for staying up all night, crafting a cane for that girl. And for risking strife with his sister. He shrugged. It wasn’t as if Ma needed her cane anymore.
Zaarusha landed on the grass between the plum trees with a soft whump. Ezaara winced. So, her ankle was hurting. He had been a fool—fooled by her bravado.
The dragon queen strolled closer to the class.
The students’ whispers were like leaves in the breeze.
“Quiet, please,” Roberto said. “Show proper respect to the Queen’s Rider.” How was Ezaara going to dismount?
Zaarusha lay on the grass. Ezaara swung a leg over the dragon’s back, then rolled onto her belly and held onto Zaarusha’s spinal ridge with one hand, letting her body slide down the dragon’s side until she was fully extended. Her cane was gripped in her other hand.
No, not with a swollen ankle. Roberto wanted to drop his history text, race over and catch her, but that wouldn’t do, not with everyone watching. He set his book aside and strolled over. Of course, before he got there, Ezaara let go. She landed heavily on her good leg, letting out an agonized grunt. Facing away from them, Ezaara leaned against Zaarusha’s side. She thrust her cane into the ground, her back rising and falling rapidly.
Ouch. He approached cautiously. “My Honored Queen’s Rider, are you hurt?” he asked softly.
“I’m fine,” she hissed, not turning around. “Continue with your class. I’ll be there in a moment.”
“As you wish.” It was all he could do not to reach out and help her. If only the foolish girl had called for Erob. Smaller than Zaarusha, he was much easier to ride. Roberto strode back to the class. “I want the names of five of the realm’s most important dragon riders and their dragons.”
“Erob and Roberto,” Kierion called.
“Enough flattery, Kierion,” Roberto said. “I mean the important riders to the realm, not to you passing this class.”
His students laughed.
“Lars and Singlar.”
Roberto nodded. “That’s more like it.”
“Zaarusha and Anakisha, the last Queen’s Rider.”
“But now it’s Ezaara and Zaarusha.” The students’ heads turned as they watched Ezaara hobble over. Behind her, Zaarusha flew off.
“Please welcome our Honored Queen’s Rider,” Roberto said.
Roberto observed Ezaara as his students greeted her. She was hurt, all right. Worse than this morning. So headstrong and stubborn. She was Queen’s Rider, for the Egg’s sake, and tharuks were attacking. War was coming soon. She had to be fit to lead them.
Unable to sit on the grass, Ezaara leaned her back against a tree, taking the weight off her injured leg. She wouldn’t last long like that, and it was only early. He should have had Erob bring a stool for her.
“Come on,” Roberto asked, distracting the class from staring at the new Queen’s Rider, “two more examples of the realm’s most important dragon riders and their dragons.”
“King Syan and Yanir,” Mathias called.
“Master Tonio and Antonika?” Sofia said.
“Yes, our spymaster is very important to the safety of Dragons’ Realm,” Roberto said. “Could someone explain the naming convention between dragons and riders?” Coming from Lush Valley, Ezaara had probably never heard of it.
Mathias answered. “The dragon’s and rider’s names share a common syllable. My sister’s dragon took on a new name when they bonded.”
“Ma renamed my brother after a dragon that was seeking a rider, then one
