“That maggot-roach sunk its claws into me. But at least those tharuk scouts didn’t have any poison-tipped arrows with them. This is simply a cut.” Zaarusha flicked her tail, like an impatient cat.
“You should’ve told me before I bathed,” Ezaara scolded out loud. It was strange to speak after mind-melding all day. “This is going to need stitches.” She took her needle and squirrel gut twine from her healer’s pouch and threaded it. “Hold still.” The needle was too small, so in the end Ezaara had to pierce Zaarusha’s hide with a knife from the cave and thread the twine through the holes to tug the edges of her wound tight.
Zaarusha was stoic, not uttering a sound, but an image of her ripping apart the tharuk leader’s body repeatedly rushed through the queen’s mind. “Helps me manage pain,” Zaarusha admitted with a dragonly grin.
When Ezaara was done, Zaarusha hooked a barrel toward her with her uninjured front limb. With a swipe of her talons, she pried the lid open. “Help yourself.”
“Apples. How did they get here?”
“Marlies’ dragon, Liesar, leaves supplies for our riders in hideouts across the realm.”
So, Ma’s dragon was still alive. How could they bear to be parted? Actually, Ma had had no choice. Ezaara’s stomach grumbled. She took an apple and leaned against Zaarusha’s side to eat it, tossing apples from the barrel to Zaarusha, who snapped them down.
Spiking an apple on a talon, Zaarusha toasted it with fire from her maw. “Here.”
Juice ran down Ezaara’s chin. “Oh, so sweet.”
“Are you full?” The queen eyed the barrel. “Mind if I finish these?”
Ezaara took one more. “You can have the rest.”
Zaarusha shoved her snout in the barrel, crunching and slurping until the apples were gone. Ezaara smothered a smile—sharing with a dragon wasn’t exactly one for one. Zaarusha curled up on the ledge. Ezaara dragged the pallet and blanket over near Zaarusha and lay down, but her mind was too busy to relax.
“Sleep, Ezaara. We have a long journey ahead of us.” The queen folded a wing over her. “Let me tell you a legend to help you rest.”
Ezaara closed her eyes.
“In the beginning, there was the Egg. Not an ordinary egg, but the First Egg, which held the seed for all dragons. When the First Egg burst into a million shards, Dragons’ Realm was born …”
Dragons’ Hold
Roberto strode down the tunnel that connected the council chambers to his cavern, the thud of his boots echoing off the stone walls. As he rounded a corner, a familiar figure detached itself from the shadows.
Adelina’s smiling face made the torchlight brighter—a welcome face after the council’s bickering. “Are you all right?” She hugged him.
There were days, like today, when his sister was the only thing that kept him sane. “I’m fine. Just the usual—more arguing.” They walked along the tunnel toward her cavern.
“I’m surprised you didn’t enjoy it.” She mock-punched his arm, grinning. “I thought you liked arguing. Well, you do with me.”
Despite his mood, Roberto managed a weak chuckle.
She arched her eyebrows. “What was it this time?”
“Apparently, Handel has had word from Zaarusha that she’s imprinted with the new Queen’s Rider.”
Her sharp intake of breath betrayed her. “Oh? Has she? I—”
Oh, shards! “Adelina.” His voice softened. “We already knew it wasn’t you.”
She swallowed. “I know. But I still held hope.” She gave him a too-bright smile. “It’s great news. It’s been eighteen years since Zaarusha had a rider. So, why were the council arguing?”
“Because her rider was found in Lush Valley, of all places.”
Adelina rolled her eyes. “Really?”
Roberto rubbed the back of his neck, trying to dislodge the tension that had been building all night. “It’ll be some ignorant, backward clod, terrified of dragons.”
“From a superstitious backwater, dealing with the likes of Lars and Tonio.” She shook her head. “And leading the council without knowing the politics here.”
Exactly what he’d been thinking. “Tharuks haven’t even made it to Lush Valley. How could someone with no fighting or combat experience lead us in war? What was Zaarusha thinking?”
“Maybe she was desperate for a rider after so many years alone.” Again, hurt flashed on Adelina’s face before she forced another smile. “It’s not our problem. Everything will work out.”
Typical. She was already looking on the good side again. No wonder she kept him balanced. Stopping outside Adelina’s cavern, Roberto faced her. “It is my problem. I’ve been given the honor of training the new Queen’s Rider.” More of a burden than an honor.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Why?”
“Handel decided, for some unknown reason, and Lars and the council have ratified it, so the decision is binding. Zaarusha will be here tonight.”
She grimaced.
The unspoken words hung between them. He’d have to use his talents. “I’ll be fine.” He had to be. Roberto squeezed her shoulder, then strode down the tunnel toward his quarters.
Huh! An ignorant settler from Lush Valley could be a traitor or a spy—someone Zens had turned without the queen or her rider knowing it. His job was to test this new rider, despite the memories that haunted him each time he had to perform his duty. He’d need to be thorough—for the realm, for Zaarusha. If there was the faintest hint that the Queen’s Rider wasn’t fit, Zaarusha would be seeking another.
§
Ezaara’s chin drooped to her chest. She jerked awake and clutched Zaarusha’s spinal ridge. The moon dragged fingertips across the tips of the forest below, not penetrating the dark mass. After three days and nights of flying with only short stops, her backside was sore and her shoulders ached. “How’s your leg doing?”
“Much better. Thank you for stitching it,” Zaarusha thrummed. “We’ll be at Dragons’ Hold soon. We’re expected before dawn.”
So, no chance of a decent sleep.
“Yes, I mind-melded and told the blue
