“Still sleeping. He and Erob have dozed most of the day.”
“Like dragon, like rider,” Tomaaz replied, striding past the beds to the door. He took a torch from a sconce by the door and went over to Maazini and Erob, curled together for warmth under the protective overhang. Huffing out clouds of breath, Tomaaz held the torch high and walked around the dragons, looking them over. Their scales were resuming their healthy vibrancy. Another day or two and they’d be well enough to fly. He didn’t meld with Maazini. After everything they’d been through, sleep was the best thing for both dragons.
Stomach rumbling, Tomaaz wandered to the edge of the ledge. There were dragon prints in the snow and small boot prints—Lovina’s. She must’ve come out here for peace. Ma had mentioned that the infirmary ledge was one of Lovina’s favorite spots. By the Egg, he was hungry. Not surprising after his time in Death Valley. Perhaps Lovina was in the mess cavern.
An hour later, Tomaaz was back on the ledge with a surprise for Lovina in his pocket. No one had seen her all day. He lifted the torch and examined her boot prints. It was possible she’d been taken somewhere by dragon. Shrugging, Tomaaz grabbed a spare blanket from the infirmary and settled on it, leaning against Maazini’s hide.
Tomaaz awoke to a thump and a spray of snow on his face.
Lovina was clinging to the back of a green dragon, eyes bright in the torchlight with a grin as wide as Dragons’ Realm. He raced over. The tips of her long hair were tinged white with frost. Her lips were wind-chapped, and her cheeks and nose were pink from the cold, but it wasn’t her coloring that looked so different.
Lovina was beaming. Radiant with joy. He’d seen her first shy smiles, heard her hesitant laugh, but it was nothing like the musical burst of laughter that burst forth from her now.
“Tomaaz, meet Ajeurina.”
Ajeurina? Didn’t she mean Ajeuria?
Maazini lifted his head. “No, Tomaaz, my sister imprinted with Lovina, so she’s modified her name.” He burrowed back down against Erob and promptly fell back to sleep.
Tomaaz caught Lovina as she slid off Ajeuria’s—no, Ajeurina’s—side.
She flung her arms around him, burrowing her freezing cheek against his neck. “Tomaaz, I never thought I’d become a dragon rider.” She looked up at him, eyes bright.
He pulled the heart-shaped pastry wrapped in waxed cloth from his pocket.
“Thank you.” Lovina traced the pastry heart with her finger. “And I never thought I’d love such a thoughtful man.”
Love? Tomaaz’s heart soared.
Return
“Zaarusha is missing?” Lars asked Tonio. “Why didn’t someone tell me earlier?” They were on the ledge outside Lars’ cavern, grabbing some fresh air.
The spymaster shrugged. “I’m just reporting what I know.”
Lars snorted. “Come on, Tonio, what do you think’s going on?”
“Well, no one’s seen Ezaara either …” Tonio pursed his lips, leaving his words hanging in the chill evening air. The spymaster paced, his boots crunching in the snow. Icicles hung down the sides of the overhang, reflecting the flickering torchlight. Beyond, snug in the shadows, Singlar was sleeping, his tail wrapped around his huge body. “They could be running an errand. Or …” Tonio splayed his hands.
Lars knew where this was leading. Tonio’s dragon, Antonika, had seen Roberto kissing Ezaara in the orchard. He shook his head. “No, even Ezaara is not fool enough to dash off to Death Valley on her own. Besides, Queen Zaarusha is more seasoned than that.”
“She was fool enough to go to the Wastelands and rescue Roberto,” Tonio said. “Why not Death Valley? I’m telling you, Lars, that man has been having an affair with his student—our new Queen’s Rider. His punishment should be banishment. Death Valley’s as good a place as any.” He snapped an icicle. The glittering shard in his hand, Tonio stalked off.
Lars gazed over the basin. Surely Roberto wasn’t stupid enough to be romantically involved with his trainee? But then again, Tonio had insisted that Antonika share her memory with Lars. When she’d shown him Roberto kissing Ezaara, it definitely hadn’t been a perfunctory kiss. But could he blame them? Roberto had been to hell and back, even had his gut slit in the desert to protect Ezaara from wrongful banishment. Then they’d returned just in time to save Zaarusha from being murdered. No wonder the queen’s loyalty overrode her duty to the council.
He wanted to give Roberto a chance. His rotten father had corrupted the boy, but he’d pulled through and become an irreplaceable asset. No one had his mental talents. It was scary, how he could manipulate people’s minds to find out what he needed.
What terrible price had he paid for his formidable skills learned at Zens’ hands? He never discussed his time in Death Valley, except to say that Erob had freed him. But, when he’d first arrived and been rejected by the council, Lars had heard him screaming in the night, tortured by his demons—demons that could destroy Dragons’ Realm if that talent was used by Zens.
An affair with the Queen’s Rider …?
Hmm. Maybe Tonio was right: the law was the law. No master was allowed to have an affair with his student. Look where that had gotten Dragon Mage Giddi. His student, Mazyka, had nearly destroyed Dragons’ Realm.
He shook his head again, this time sadly. Despite his sympathies, as the council leader, he had to be firm.
There was a loud crack. A dark shape appeared in the sky, blotting out the stars.
§
Ezaara and Zaarusha appeared above Dragons’ Hold. “Shards, Zaarusha, I never meant to be gone an entire day.”
“Me neither. Not much we can do about that now.”
“Agreed. We need to see Lars.”
“He’s seen us already,” Zaarusha rumbled in Ezaara’s mind. “That’s his cavern.”
A figure stood on a ledge below, limned in torchlight.
