“With me no longer a master, and you no longer Zaarusha’s rider, I don’t know how we’re going to get anyone to listen to us.” Roberto sighed. It was worth a try. “If we’re going back, it’s time to hone your mental talents. I’ve designed training to help our riders beat tharuk mind-benders, but the council haven’t let me test the training on my students yet.”
“Why?”
“There are one or two masters who are resistant.”
“Let me guess. Tonio?”
“No, he’s for it.” The spymaster was reasonable, except for his prejudice against him. Mind you, with his history, Tonio had reason. And someone had poisoned Jaevin …
“Roberto?” Ezaara jolted him back to the present. “What’s a mind-bender?”
“Some tharuks can shape your thoughts, emotions or actions. They’re called mind-benders. You can block them by keeping a fixed picture in your mind. The more detailed the image, the better. Picture something now, and I’ll try to bend your thoughts.”
Ezaara closed her eyes. There were dark circles under them. She was exhausted. The days in Robandi Desert hadn’t been easy on her either. In fact, not much had been easy for her since she’d come to Dragons’ Hold. Roberto placed his hands on her temples and accessed her thoughts.
She was imagining a bay fawn, sitting in sun-dappled light in the forest. He pushed the image away.
“More detail, Ezaara. Sounds, scents and sensations will all help.”
Startled, the deer flicked its ears and raised its nose to scent the breeze rustling the nearby leaves. Roberto tried to push the deer aside. Not bad, a solid enough block against an average mind-bender, but not solid enough for him. He punched a hole in her image.
Flames danced in his head and heat rushed through him. He’d opened a floodgate. She was thinking about him—about how she felt. Shards! His arms ached to squeeze her against him, to lose himself in the touch of her lips, but he’d never be able to face Tonio with a clear conscience if he kissed her now.
§
“Ezaara, try again. Bring a little more life to it.” Roberto’s words floated through her. He’d pushed her image aside like a leaf in the wind. Oh, it had held for a few moments, before he’d shattered it.
Fire danced in her veins. With him, she felt so alive. So full of possibility and wonder. Strong.
He was only a hand span away, his breath caressing her cheek. Roberto closed his eyes, lashes dark against his olive skin as he slowly drew a deep breath.
He was struggling for control too.
His eyes opened and fell to her lips, lingering.
Every fiber of her being screamed out to kiss him. It was now or never. On tiptoes, Ezaara stretched up and brushed her lips against his. A jolt ran through her being. This was so right, so—
“No!” Voice hoarse, Roberto pushed her away. His face was tormented. “No, Ezaara.”
Shame knifed through her. Oh, shards! Her face burned. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I just can’t.” Onyx eyes sad, he grimaced. “If we’re returning to the hold, I can’t kiss you.”
“But you’re not my master anymore.” Ezaara thrust her desperate emotions deep, managing to stay calm. “We’re free.”
“Not if we’re returning, we’re not.”
Ezaara wanted to throw herself on her knees and beg him for a kiss, but she could see conflict in every line of his body and hear chaos roaring in his head. Swallowing, she nodded.
“Go on, Ezaara, try again.” Roberto urged her. “Use something you know well. Something deeply personal.”
So, she did.
§
Shards, she was sly. Him, it was him. Seeing his own face, painted with the beauty of a skilled artist, made Roberto’s breath catch. She saw him like this? Where was his hardness toward his father? His anger at Zens for shattering his core? Where was the broken man?
She showed him a face touched with compassion and admiration. A face that loved and cared and held human life precious. A face without the harshness he saw in his polished bronze mirror.
She brought out the best in him.
More reason not to kiss her now. To wait, and earn her love the hard way.
Face radiant, she stared up at him. Gods, he was tempted. “Another picture. Choose something else.”
A cottage on a farm, nestled on the forest’s edge, alps stretching to the sky. He shoved and pushed at the image, but it was anchored. It must be her home in Lush Valley. “Well done; try something different.”
A tree, bark rough against her cheek as she hid from two boys below, hunting for her. Birds flitted through the branches, among rustling leaves. The scent of summer hung in the air. He tugged, pried, punched, but the trees and boys held fast.
“Excellent. We can practice more on the return flight.”
She stood. “We should get back and warn people there’s a murderer at Dragons’ Hold.”
“Ezaara …” Roberto hesitated. Her biggest stumbling block could be her loyalty to her friends. “I suspect Simeon and his family may be involved.”
He hadn’t anticipated the icy rage that flitted across her face. Her voice was deadly calm. “Whether the council accepts us or not, we can do better than warn them: let’s hunt that traitor down.”
Deadly Intent
Roberto had his arms around Ezaara as she slept, the warmth of her back seeping through his jerkin. His eyes were gritty and drooping, but he was too tense to sleep, despite the peaceful rhythm of Erob’s wingbeats. The Egg knew what would be facing them when they arrived at Dragons’ Hold. His whole life, he’d wanted to be a dragon master, but he’d gladly thrown it away to save Ezaara from banishment. He’d never expected her to sacrifice being Queen’s Rider—it was nearly impossible to deny the bond between rider and dragon. But she’d done it—for him.
It had been a
