The first rays of sunset hit the crags of Dragon’s Teeth, making the snow-clad reaches catch fire. His breath caught. This is what he lived for. Flying. Nature in all its glory. And now, Ezaara in his arms, her breath rising and falling, and her hair smelling of the Naobian Sea.
She stirred and woke.
“Look,” Roberto whispered. “Isn’t it stunning?”
She exhaled, eyes wide at the sight. “Roberto, we can’t let tharuks destroy this.”
“They will, if we give them a chance.”
“All this bickering and in-fighting … we’ve got to turn our gaze outwards and work to save the realm.”
“If we regain our standing with the council …” He sighed. “One step at a time. First, we have to get there.”
As they neared the ranges, blue guards took to the sky.
Erob melded. “So, they’re awake and alert. What do you want me to tell them?”
“That they’re a bunch of idiots for believing I was guilty.”
“Well, you were pretty convincing,” Erob replied.
“You didn’t believe me. You knew I was innocent.”
“Of course I did. You have a dragon of superior intellect.”
“With a mild sense of exaggeration.” Despite his trepidation, a chuckle broke from Roberto.
“And a wicked sense of humor. Don’t forget the humor.” A rumble rippled through Erob’s belly. “I’ll manage them, shall I?”
Ezaara broke in. Whenever she melded with him and Erob, it was like an extra string on Lars’ harp, producing a new exciting thread in an existing melody. “Remind the blue guards that they’ve pledged to serve our queen, and it’s in her best interests to reunite her with the Queen’s Rider. At least, I hope she wants to be reunited.”
“Did she banish you outright?” Roberto asked her.
Ezaara winced. “Only because I went after you. But I’m glad I did.”
“Of course you are.” Erob snorted. “Neither of you are guilty. Which means someone else is.”
Erob melded with the blue guards’ dragons. They were closer now, their talons visible. Were they coming to drive them off? Or to escort them into the hold?
Septimor, Seppi’s dragon, roared, and Erob replied, a tremor running through him. “We’re to follow them to the council chambers.”
So, no longer outcasts, but not yet welcomed either. Well, that was better than being chased off outright.
“What’s happening?” Ezaara straightened. “I can’t meld with Zaarusha.”
“That’s strange.” Roberto took his hands off her waist. “Maybe she’s hunting or asleep.”
Blue dragons flanked them on either side. Roberto gave Seppi a nod, and they flew on. When the peaks of Dragon’s Teeth were below them, drumbeats started pounding.
“So much for a quiet entrance,” Erob said.
“What’s that drum signal?” Ezaara asked.
“Something’s afoot,” Roberto said. A repeated seven-beat rhythm. “A death toll. Someone’s died.” Shards! His breath got stuck in his throat. Adelina? Lars? Who? Another poisoning or an innocent death?
Ezaara sat bolt upright. “Our traitor may have struck again.”
Seppi’s grim expression conveyed similar thoughts. Erob swooped down, flanked by blue guards, and landed outside the council chambers. Roberto thumped to the ground with Ezaara and the blue guards close on his heels. They rushed into the chamber, drums reverberating through the stone.
No one was there. Two chairs were up-ended, the others pushed back haphazardly. Papers were scattered across the table and half-eaten food sat on plates. Cloaks were hanging on hooks, but there were no weapons in the weapons stand. The masters had left in a hurry, armed.
“Come on, we’ve got to find Lars,” Roberto yelled to Seppi as he spun for the door.
Seppi grabbed his arm. “Not so fast, Roberto. Septimor’s melding with Singlar to see if Lars wants you free or in chains.”
That stung. And Roberto hadn’t missed the fact that Seppi hadn’t addressed him as ‘master’.
Seppi’s face blanched, right as Erob melded with Roberto, “It’s Master Shari. She’s dead,” said Erob. “I’m sorry.”
Knees faltering, Roberto grasped the back of a nearby chair, the wood biting into his clenched hand. No, not Shari.
Her smile flashed to mind. When no one else had accepted him at Dragons’ Hold, she’d welcomed him, trusting he’d changed when he’d imprinted with Erob. She’d stood up for him at his trial, seeing through his lies to save Ezaara. She was the closest thing to family he and Adelina had.
By saving Ezaara, he hadn’t been here to help someone else he loved. Eyes stinging, he forced himself to speak. “Seppi, please ask Lars if I may see Shari.”
Seppi waited a few moments, obviously asking Septimor to meld with Singlar, then replied. “Lars would like you and Ezaara in Shari’s cavern, right away.”
§
Ezaara glanced at Roberto’s pale face as he gripped a chair. Shari had obviously been close to him. She kept trying to meld with Zaarusha as she and Roberto followed the blue guards down the tunnel, that strange drum rhythm echoing around them. “Zaarusha.” Still no answer. Was the queen too angry to mind-meld?
They rounded a corner and met a troop of guards stationed outside Shari’s door, swords drawn. “Halt!” A guard addressed Seppi. “Why are you bringing these traitors into the heart of the hold?”
Seppi nodded curtly. “Lars wants to see them immediately.”
Moving aside, the guards opened the door, and they entered.
Face haggard, Lars was on his knees next to Shari’s bed with his hand on her shoulder. He waved them in. Masters Tonio, Bruno, Aidan, Hendrik, and Fleur were in discussion, clustered at the foot of the bed.
Shari lay curled, with her hands around her stomach. Even in death, she was beautiful. Her braids were scattered around her face and across her pillow, their copper and silver fastenings glinting in the torchlight. Her dark eyes were blank, staring into nothing.
“We’re not sure what caused her death,” said Lars, voice husky. “But we’ll find out.”
