“After that, you should eat,” Zaarusha replied.
Ezaara’s belly rumbled, but food was the last thing she felt like with her fresh memory of Roberto, battered and bloody. She mind-melded with Singlar, who was curled up on the ledge. “Please let Lars know that Queen Zaarusha and I would like to visit.”
“He’s already expecting you,” was Singlar’s reply.
Zaarusha swooped through the cold night air to land neatly on Lars’ ledge.
“Greetings, Ezaara,” Lars said. “We’ve missed you today.”
Ezaara dismounted and shook Lars’ hand. The council leader’s eyes were as cold as the icicles behind him.
“You’re freezing,” said Lars. “Let’s discuss your recent whereabouts inside. With war looming, the last thing we need is our Queen’s Rider getting ill.”
Was that concern or a reprimand? Either way, Ezaara didn’t like Lars’ tone. She wasn’t only our Queen’s Rider—the council’s property, to do with as they saw fit. She was Ezaara of Lush Valley, Zaarusha’s rider. She had a say in her life. If they hadn’t learned that after wrongly trying to banish her and getting Roberto nearly killed in the Robandi desert, then they had a thing or two to learn. “Thank you, Master Lars,” she said demurely. “That would be nice.”
Zaarusha chuckled. “I see you can manage him on your own. I’m going hunting. I’ll be nearby if you need me.”
A fire blazed in Lars’ hearth, the smoke funneling up a natural chimney in the rock ceiling. Ezaara took off her gloves and held her numb hands out, sitting in an overstuffed chair near the fire.
Lars sat in the chair opposite her.
“Come, Ezaara, you’re positively blue,” Lydia said, bustling over with a warm cup of herb tea and a plate laden with cookies. The scent of cinnamon wafted over them. Ezaara’s mouth watered. She loved the winter delicacies, made with ground almonds and egg whites.
“Would you like one, Ezaara?” asked Lars.
He was playing the congenial host. Would he be that congenial when he found out where she’d just been? Ezaara was about to pick up a cookie but changed her mind. She wasn’t a littling, to be plied with treats then told what to do. “Maybe later. Business first.” She leaned back, crossing her long legs. “Do you know where I’ve been?”
Lars replied, “Please, tell me.”
“Death Valley, to see Master Roberto.”
“I thought so,” Lars replied.
So, it wasn’t a surprise. She’d thought she’d been so stealthy.
He leaned forward. “You didn’t actually see him, of course, you’re just speaking figuratively.”
The memory played out in her mind again: Roberto, bloodied and torn, chains clanking. Ezaara swallowed. “Yes, I saw him.” Shards, her voice was husky. She mustn’t give away her emotions or Roberto could be banished all over again.
Lars’ eyebrows shot up in surprise and he choked on his cinnamon star, taking a gulp of tea to wash it down.
She put steel into her voice. “He’s being tortured. Zens has him in chains and is probably beating him again as we sit here, having tea and cookies.” She was doubly glad she hadn’t eaten one.
Still coughing, he asked, “How did you slip in?”
“The same way Tomaaz and Roberto got in last time.” Ezaara carefully placed her tea on the table. “Now that I know where he is, he’ll be easy to rescue. With two or three dragons and a few riders, we’d be in and out in no time.” She had no idea how to get into Roberto’s prison—a minor detail.
Lars took a long draught of tea, eyes regarding her over the rim.
There was a sharp rap at the door, and Lydia admitted Tonio. He barreled into the room. “Lars, Zaarusha is back. I suspect Ezaara was in Death Valley. None of her family know—” His words dried up. A mask of superficial cordiality snapped over his face. “Good evening, my honored Queen’s Rider.”
“Good evening, Tonio.” Ezaara nodded, deliberately dropping off his title. “Yes, I have been to Death Valley.”
“And?” The spymaster’s gaze was genuinely curious.
“And we need to rescue Master Roberto before Zens kills him.”
“You’re assuming a lot, Ezaara.” Tonio’s voice was silky, laced with steel.
“You sent Roberto to Death Valley.”
“He agreed to go.”
“He’s a valuable member of our council,” Ezaara snapped. “We need him back.”
“Valuable?” Tonio asked softly, eyes glittering. “To whom?”
Chills raced down her spine. He knew. Antonika had told him. Ezaara turned to Lars. “Lars, I may have come here as an ignorant girl from Lush Valley, but I’m now the Queen’s Rider.”
“And I’m the leader of the council,” he replied, mettle in his blue gaze. “May I remind you that your training as Queen’s Rider will only be complete after the dragon races.”
Ezaara stalked back outside to the snow.
§
Lars met Tonio’s gaze. “If she leaves for Death Valley again, she could jeopardize Queen Zaarusha’s life. I want eyes and ears on her at all times. Ensure she stays at the hold.”
Tonio’s dark eyes flashed. “Yes, Master Lars. I’ll see to it.” His boots clicked on stone and he shut the door.
Lars dropped his head in his hands. He’d expected Ezaara to be contrite, not attack him and the council, but after everything they’d put her and Roberto through, he couldn’t blame her. So, why had he been so harsh?
Because Tonio’s endless goading and insidious comments were eating away at him—that’s why. Yet Tonio was hardly impartial where Roberto was concerned.
Lydia came over, putting her arm around his shoulders. “I heard all of that. Tough situation.”
“In the name of the sharding Egg, Lydia, I don’t want to condemn Roberto, but I have no choice. He and Ezaara are in love.”
“Do you remember when we fell in love? she asked softly.
“Yes, I do.” He chuckled. “Your father wasn’t very happy, was he?”
“No, the last thing he wanted
