§
Linaia flapped her wings and they soared above the basin, a bitter wind rushing at Adelina. Ezaara was on Zaarusha, ascending to land on Heaven’s Peak, the highest mountain in the southern end of Dragon’s Teeth. Adelina melded with Linaia. “Let’s make sure we aren’t seen.”
A throaty chuckle emanated from her dragon. “That shouldn’t be too hard.” Linaia could control her scales, changing them to match the sky, a talent that could prove useful tonight. Within moments, Linaia’s scales were the darkest inky blue.
Zaarusha headed westward.
Even though she’d been expecting it, Adelina’s heart leapt. “Death Valley. Ezaara is heading off to get Roberto. Linaia, we have to catch them.”
Zaarusha was soon below them, a dark splotch above the snow laden forest.
“We’ve nearly caught up. I’ll meld with Zaarusha in a moment,” Linaia said.
With a pop, Ezaara and Zaarusha disappeared.
“We’ve lost them. Do you want me to go lower and search?”
“Yes.” Adelina’s gut tightened. She wished she could deny the pop she’d heard. Linaia skimmed the treetops of the tangled wilderness between Dragon’s Teeth and Great Spanglewood Forest. Snow lay thick on the branches and shadows lurked among the snarled plants between the trees. “Linaia, it’s no use. Ezaara must have used Anakisha’s ring. She’s gone to Death Valley.” The chill nipped at her skin. Disappointment crushed her chest.
“Then we’ll follow. It’s only a few days’ flight.”
“Alone? Against all of those tharuks? I don’t know where to look.” Adelina bit her lip. “Should we ask Kierion for help?”
“With his help, what could possibly go wrong?” answered Linaia.
Adelina sighed. “You’re right. Things do get out of hand when Kierion’s involved. We’ll go alone.”
Broken
The skin on Ezaara’s neck crawled, as if she was being followed, but whenever she looked around, there were no dragons in sight. “Something’s not right, Zaarusha, we’d better get to Death Valley.” She rubbed Kisha’s ring, murmuring, “Kisha.” With a pop, the eerie wilderness outside the rim of Dragon’s Teeth disappeared, and they were in a tunnel of gold clouds, with Anakisha floating toward them. Between the golden clouds was a dark rift, weeping tendrils of black, cloying fog.
“Anakisha,” Ezaara called, “there’s fog leaking into your realm gate. It feels evil.”
“Frequent use leads to rifts in the gate, which Zens could discover and exploit.”
That would be awful. Imagine him appearing with troops of tharuks wherever and whenever he wanted. Ma had mentioned the risks—and they’d ignored them. Now, the gates were damaged. “Anakisha, Master Roberto is Zens’ captive in Death Valley.”
Anakisha pointed at Ezaara’s chest. “You’re wearing my dream catcher.”
Pa was right—it was Anakisha’s. Ezaara nodded.
“Have you dreamed of Roberto? Seen his pain and suffering?”
Ezaara stared at Anakisha in shock, nodding mutely.
Anakisha pulled the fine silver chain that rested at Ezaara’s throat, bringing the tear-shaped crystal into view. “This crystal amplifies Roberto’s thoughts while you both sleep, enabling you to meld over long distances with him, feel his pain, and relive your memories together. The crystal only functions between the Queen’s Rider and her true mate.”
Tomaaz’s message from Roberto had quoted Roberto’s mother, saying teardrops amplify thoughts. And she’d thought Roberto had given her a simple keepsake between lovers. Had he understood the message? “He’s been limplocked. He could be dying.”
“The future of Dragons’ Realm depends upon you both, but be cautious, Zens is formidable.”
“Anakisha,” Ezaara asked, “what of your prophecy? They’re saying I can’t be Queen’s Rider.”
“My prophecy stands, and you are Queen’s Rider. Now, go, and save your loved one.”
With a flip of Zaarusha’s wings and a crack, they appeared in the dark, landing just below a Terramite peak.
Ezaara shouldered the small rucksack of supplies Ma had given her, then slid off Zaarusha. She pressed her cheek against her dragon’s muzzle. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“The same applies as last time: find Roberto, but if it gets too dangerous, get out.”
Ezaara flung her arms around Zaarusha’s neck, then made her way up the hill and scurried behind some icy boulders. Zaarusha ascended into the night sky, swallowed by darkness. Ezaara was alone. No one was here to help. Only Ma knew she’d come. She tugged her camouflage cloak around her and skirted around the rocks, and headed down toward her enemy’s lair, avoiding the tharuks on watch.
§
Ezaara woke in the passage outside the cavern where Roberto was captive. She’d been here for a day, mind submerged, waiting in the dark until Roberto was alone. Now, the torches in Roberto’s cavern were extinguished. She could hear him breathing and the occasional grunt of pain or clank of chains, so he was still alive. Her stomach growled, gnawing a hungry hole inside her. She took a sip of water. Tore off some flatbread and chewed it.
She must’ve been missed at Dragons’ Hold by now. What excuses was Ma making for her absence?
Ezaara stiffened as 000 entered Roberto’s cavern again, carrying a torch. She pressed her face to the rock so she could see.
Roberto was facing her, slumped against the stone wall on the far side of the cavern, mouth slack, eyes shut, his hands curled in. One arm was shackled to the wall and his leg to the floor. As the enormous tharuk kicked him, he flinched. His eyes opened, then drooped again, and his head slumped on his chest. There was no doubt—he was limplocked. If she didn’t help him soon, he’d be dead.
§
“To your feet,” 000 barked. The tharuk’s tusks ran slick with dark saliva.
Roberto staggered, chains clanking, an arm on the wall for support. His breath was short and his mind foggy. Shards, he’d forgotten to take clear-mind berries. The stench of 000’s fetid breath took Roberto’s own breath away, making his chest tight. The gray fog over his eyes was worse. If only he could think straight.
