Bruno met Lars’ gaze. “The Queen’s Rider will betray us.”
Zaarusha stood. Her roar juddered through Roberto’s bones.
“My dear Queen,” Bruno placated, “I cannot help what my gift shows me. To protect you and the realm, it’s my duty to report what I see.”
Roberto bristled. That whole family was rotten to the core. How dare Bruno accuse the Queen’s Rider of treachery? It insulted Zaarusha’s fitness to rule. It also insulted him—he’d tested her. Ezaara didn’t have a disloyal scale on her hide.
“No chance of sleeping through this,” Erob muttered. “Almost makes me yearn for boring meetings again.”
“Our queen is a great dragon,” Fleur added, “but she was lonely and desperate for a new rider. Maybe her judgment was flawed.”
Bruno shook his head. “The queen is getting older …”
Zaarusha snarled. Yelling broke out. For the queen. Against her rider. Dragons raised their hackles. Masters leaped to their feet. Roberto ducked as Ajeuria’s tail whipped through the air. Erob rose, beside Zaarusha, yellow eyes glowering at Ajeuria.
“Silence,” Lars bellowed, cutting through the cacophony.
Lars placed his hand on Zaarusha’s head. “Our queen commands no more slights on Ezaara. She has chosen her rider. Now, sit down. Everyone. I’m pleased Bruno advises us that war will not come, but however pleasing his prophecy is, we must prepare the Queen’s Rider for battle. Roberto, please answer Tonio’s original question. How long until she’s ready?”
Roberto had to save face, for himself, for Ezaara, but mostly for Queen Zaarusha. They needed a trained Queen’s Rider—and he’d give them one, if it meant slogging day and night. “She’ll be ready by next moon,” he announced.
Annoyance flashed across Tonio’s face. “A moon? Ready to fight against tharuks? How? She’s only been here a few days, and she’s had one disaster after another. She’s injured one of our most promising trainees, and you want to turn her loose in battle?”
“Maybe she’ll injure some tharuks too,” Roberto snapped.
Lars rapped the table with his gavel. “Roberto, are you sure you can do this?”
Of course not, but he had to try. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. If you’re that confident, I’ll give you two weeks, at which time we shall reconvene and evaluate her worthiness as Queen’s Rider.”
“Yes sir.” Roberto nodded. Dragon’s fangs! How was she ever going to be ready in time?
§
“Ezaara! What are you doing here?” Gret crouched, her voice sharp.
Slumped against the wall halfway between the infirmary and the mess cavern, Ezaara shrugged. “Uh, resting …”
Gret’s face softened. “It’s your ankle, isn’t it? Where’s your cane?”
“Simeon said Mathias would bring it back from the field.”
“Good,” Gret said. “Mathias bunks in the boy’s cavern, along here. I’ll hunt him down.”
“Thanks.” Ezaara struggled to her feet. She couldn’t put weight on her foot.
Soon Gret returned, out of breath. “Mathias didn’t have your cane. Says Simeon never asked him to bring it back.”
“But Simeon—”
“Forget Simeon,” said Gret. “He has a reputation, you know.”
Everyone was tough on Simeon. Were they all judging him, the way they were judging her? “Simeon’s been nothing but friendly.”
“Of course he has.” There was an edge to Gret’s voice. “Your ankle looks worse. What were you doing? Running on it?”
“I’ll be fine. Just give me a hand, please.”
Gret supported her along the tunnel, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. “How are you going to train if you can’t walk?”
Exactly what she’d been wondering. “Things will work out.”
“They’re saying you stabbed Sofia on purpose.”
“It was an accident.”
“I know that!” Throwing her hands in the air, Gret took a step back, leaving Ezaara unsteady. “I’m loyal to the realm and to you, but not everybody is. We have to combat these vicious rumors or you’ll be put on trial and Zaarusha will lose her rider.”
“Combat rumors? I’m struggling to walk. I can’t even get back to my den.”
Gret laughed.
“What?”
“Only dragons have dens. Riders have caverns.”
“I have so much to learn, haven’t I?”
Voices echoed beyond a bend in the tunnel. “Someone’s coming,” said Gret. “By the Egg, Ezaara, put a smile on your face, or everyone will think you’re guilty.”
Alban strolled around the corner, deep in discussion with another boy. “I was there.” Alban stabbed a finger in the air. “The blood was horrendous. Poor Sofia.”
“Ssh, she’s coming,” the boy replied. “She’ll knife you next, if you don’t watch it.”
“Like to see her try.” Alban’s gaze was steely as he stalked past Ezaara.
Although she felt like screaming, Ezaara forced a smile as more footsteps sounded around the corner.
Roberto and Adelina approached.
“Ezaara!” Adelina hugged her.
“You’re coming from the infirmary, I take it? Good.” Roberto’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s your cane?”
“Simeon said Mathias would bring it from the knife-throwing range, but it’s missing.”
“Simeon?” Roberto’s face tightened. “Leave it to me, I’ll find it.” He strode down the corridor, his boots striking the rock.
Shards, she’d lost the beautiful cane Roberto had carved for her—his mother’s cane. Ezaara bit her lip, glancing at Adelina guiltily.
§
Roberto was astounded. He’d seen it again. When Ezaara had answered him, brilliant color had flashed through him. It was her. The brightness of her intellect, her mental resilience, whatever it was, they had a connection without touching.
He rushed down the corridor. The tunnels were too stifling, too narrow and confined for emotions this big. He needed to fly. He melded with Erob, “Meet me on the ledge outside the mess cavern.”
“On my way.”
Roberto broke into a run. The sooner he had space to think, the better. He took a bolt hole out onto the trails and ran along the goat track on the mountainside. Anakisha and Yanir had been able to mind-meld, so it was possible. But why Ezaara? Did she have a propensity for mind-melding like him?
He shuddered. He’d paid
