“Sore.” Fenni sighed. “I messed up, didn’t I?”
“To the contrary. I’m happy with your progress. You survived a strangleton—something few can claim.” Giddi shooed Fenni out of the tent and rolled up his bedding.
Fenni chuckled. His master must be concerned if he was packing up his gear.
Giddi’s head appeared at the tent door. “If you’re laughing, you’re well enough to help. Here, throw these in the saddlebags.”
Fenni caught the bedrolls, groaning.
“And while you’re at it, give me a hand to roll this tent up.” Giddi snapped his fingers at their fireplace. Within the ring of stones, green wizard flame licked at the wood, and soon, a fire was blazing.
Fenni filled a pot at the river and put it on the fire, sprinkling oats, herbs and cheese chunks in the water.
“That’ll be a hearty wizard porridge, Fenni,” Master Giddi mumbled, shaping the fire’s flames into dragons, their fiery tongues licking at the base of the pot until the porridge was bubbling.
“How did you do that?”
“This?” Master Giddi waved a hand and the fiery dragons circled the pot and disappeared in a shower of sparks. His control over mage flame was absolute. “Years of underwater practice.”
Fenni sighed. He was such a raw beginner. At the last trials, he’d covered up by excelling with water and wind, but he couldn’t do that now. These wizard duels were his final trial. If he didn’t show he’d mastered fire, the wizard council would never let him fight tharuks on his own.
After they’d eaten, they swung onto their horses. “We’ll be at Mage Gate later today,” Master Giddi said. “You can practice on horseback on the way. But whatever you do, don’t harm the spangles. They don’t like rogue mage flame.”
“So it’s true.” Fenni trailed Master Giddi through the trees. “There are spangles in Great Spanglewood Forest.”
“Of course there are, my boy.”
At seventeen summers, Fenni was hardly a boy, but he wasn’t about to argue. “And is it true they’re magic?”
“Aye.” Master Giddi guided his horse to the foot of a hill.
Rocks rose steeply on either side of the trail as they started the trek over the pass that cut through the northern end of Great Spanglewood Forest. Fenni glanced behind them as they left the tree line. Spangles? Then how come none of the trees glimmered the way the legends said they would? Was his master telling him a tall tale? Or was he serious?
Gossip
Ezaara’s body slammed against the wall, the back of her skull cracking on stone. Hot blood trickled down her neck. She woke, soaked in sweat, panting.
She clutched the crystal at her neck—warm against her fingers and skin. Soothing. Her nightmares were so vivid—as if she were living them. But in them, she wasn’t herself. Her hands were different. Her limbs were rangier, and she felt more solid. Like she was experiencing the world through someone else’s body.
She was so tired. Zens stalked her dreams, never letting her sleep—but it was nothing compared to what Roberto would be going through. She had to convince the council to rescue him before it was too late. Ezaara flipped back the covers and got out of bed, shivering in her sweat-drenched nightdress.
“You need a hot bath to soothe you,” Zaarusha melded. “The council members are still sleeping, so you have time.” She snaked her head through the archway and shot flames at the pile of wood under Ezaara’s bathtub, then breathed on the water and the outside of the metal tub.
“Thank you, Zaarusha, you take such good care of me.” Ezaara rubbed Zaarusha’s snout.
The queen butted Ezaara’s stomach. “You’re doing your best to take care of Dragons’ Realm. I need you at my side.”
“And I need Roberto at mine.”
“We’ll get him, but I’d rather have the sanction of the council than have you fighting them. If we’re going to defeat Zens we need to be united.”
Ezaara pulled off her nightdress and climbed into the steaming water. “And if they won’t rescue him?”
“They will.” Zaarusha’s scales bristled. “And if they don’t, we’ll go together.”
An hour later, Ezaara was seated in the council meeting. Absently, she clutched her pendant. It was cool now, not warm at all. Roberto’s bloodied face flashed to mind.
Tonio’s gaze sharpened, resting upon the crystal at her neck. “That’s an interesting bauble. Where did you get it?”
Everyone stared at her necklace. Ezaara didn’t like his carefully-casual tone. She tucked the necklace back under her jerkin. Had Tonio recognized the Naobian craftsmanship? Did he suspect Roberto had given it to her? “My jewelry is immaterial to the matter at hand. We’ve called this council meeting to discuss rescuing Master Roberto from Death Valley.”
“Thank you, my honored Queen’s Rider.” Lars nodded, formally. “Erob is home, as we desired, however, he’s still recovering from his injuries. This afternoon, when he’s rested, Master Tonio will mind-meld with Erob and Maazini to gather information regarding Roberto’s capture. This is of utmost priority.”
The spymaster nodded. “My honored Queen’s Rider and council, we must rescue Master Roberto as soon as possible.”
Ezaara’s jaw snapped shut. She’d been ready to fight them, all her arguments lined up: how Tonio had insisted Roberto go; the value of Roberto’s role on the council; how she could guide them to the right place in Death Valley …
Now Tonio agreed with her?
Lars nodded. “I concur. All in favor of Roberto’s rescue, raise their hands.”
Everyone’s hand shot up. Good, the decision was unanimous. They could leave after Tonio had melded with the dragons. It would be best to sneak in
