He hunkered down in the saddle, resting his arms on Antonika’s ruby neck scales, and raised the far-seers again. There Kierion was, dancing along the treetops on Riona, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. The lad probably hadn’t. Lars had talked about Kierion so glowingly, Tonio had hoped to induct him into the ranks of dragon corps. Someone that stealthy would make a good spy. But now he wasn’t so sure. Shrieking above the forest while out for a joyride … What was that damned fool doing? Kierion and Riona had disappeared among the trees.
“Where have they gone?”
“Mage Gate,” Antonika mind-melded, adjusting her feet in the snow.
Tonio dropped the far-seers, letting them swing from the string around his neck, while he counted the days on his fingers. Yes, it was the week of winter solstice. “That flaming fool. He’s sillier than I thought.”
His eyes and ears across the realm had told him that Naobian mages had traveled north to Spanglewood. Wizards from all over Dragons’ Realm would be dueling at Mage Gate. Not wanting to wait for Spring Equinox, they’d moved their wizard trials forward to Winter Solstice. For eighteen years, ever since Master Giddi had closed the gate there, mages held duels at Mage Gate to hone their powers—a sad tribute to the wizards who’d been lost in Zens’ world. That fool, Mazyka, had opened the gate that had let Zens in, and taken many of the wizards through. After the slaughter of Anakisha’s last battle, the councils had forced Master Giddi to shut the world gate. It had nearly killed Giddi, locking most of the mage population out of Dragons’ Realm, but he’d had no choice. And now they were left, still battling to exterminate Zens and his monsters.
Thrusting the far-seers in his saddlebag, Tonio melded with Antonika. “Whatever Kierion’s up to, I hope he doesn’t break his neck.”
“That would be a shame,” she said.
“It would,” he agreed, “because he’d deny me the pleasure of breaking it for him.”
“So, you’re going to report him to Lars?”
Tonio snorted. “Lars will want evidence.”
“We could follow them.”
“No, I’ll bide my time and pounce when the opportunity is right.”
§
Fenni clambered into the saddle behind Kierion, and Jael hopped on behind Fenni.
“Are you sure you can carry three?” Kierion asked Riona.
“Why do you think these saddles are so large?” Riona tensed her haunches and sprang. In moments, they were high above the trees. The extra weight hadn’t slowed her at all.
“Of course it didn’t. You’re all lightweights.”
Kierion chuckled.
“Over there,” said Jael, pointing to the west. A thin spiral of smoke rose through the trees. “That’s where we saw tharuks camping, late last night, near a hut they’d destroyed. Remember, we’re not playing heroes today. I want to get in and rescue any people taken as slaves.”
They really needed another dragon to carry captives.
“There’s not a great likelihood of survivors,” melded Riona. “We’re too far from Death Valley for them to be collecting slaves. We’re practically at Dragons’ Hold.”
“Jael, tharuks aren’t usually this close to Dragons’ Hold,” Kierion said. “Do you think they’re up to something?”
“I don’t know,” Jael said. “I’m not from around here. You’d be the expert on that.”
Fenni nudged Kierion. “Expert, huh? That’s a promotion.”
“Come on, we’re nearly there,” Jael said. “Weapons at the ready.”
That was easy for him to say. Mages only had to hold their hands out. Kierion grabbed his bow from a saddlebag and leaned forward so he could snatch an arrow from his quiver without knocking Fenni’s eye out. At the same time, Fenni leaned back. It was a squeeze, riding with two other passengers.
“I should sneak into their camp,” Kierion said. “I can meld with Riona and, if you two place your hands on her hide, she’ll relay what I’m seeing.”
“No,” Jael insisted. “I’m the most senior here. I’ll take the risks.”
“But neither of us will know what’s happening.”
“Which is absolutely normal in battle,” Jael said. “Now, quiet.”
Riona descended between the trees to a river, landing two furlongs from the tharuk camp.
Jael slid to the ground. “Give me a short head start. When you hear yelling or snarling, come and find me.” He ran into the trees.
“I still don’t like this,” Kierion muttered.
“He’s good,” said Fenni. “He can beat me hands down, just by raising his eyebrow.”
Kierion turned in the saddle to see his friend’s face. “You’re joking.”
“No, when we were dueling, the twitch of his eyebrow created an ice wall as high as Riona between us.”
“As high as Riona?”
“Mighty high,” huffed his dragon.
“I thought he said you’d beaten him.”
“Once, and only just.”
“But he’s only a bit older than us.”
“And been training as a mage since he could walk.”
“Lucky guy.”
Distant snarls ripped through the forest. Fenni grabbed Kierion’s waist as Riona leapt into the air.
“Not too tight. Got to reach my quiver,” was all Kierion had a chance to say before they were over the tharuk campsite.
Mage fire crackled between the trees. Lances of brilliant green hit tharuks, as Jael fought them single-handedly. Roars and bellows rang out.
A beast with enormous tusks was sneaking through the trees behind Jael.
“Closer,” Kierion urged, trying to get a clear shot.
Riona tilted, her wingtip nearly grazing foliage.
Mage fire blazed from Fenni’s hands as he felled a beast. Kierion leaned out and fired. Green flames arced from behind
