“And before you and I imprinted, I’d just lost my other son.” An orange dragon was trapped by tharuks in the midst of battle. They dragged him away in a net, tail and talons trussed up, snarling and roaring. “Is it so wrong that I don’t want to lose Ajeuria too?”
§
Roberto hung on as Erob straddled Ajeuria, pinning her body to the earth. She thrashed, but Erob tightened his jaws around the back of her neck. His earlier fang marks around her throat were oozing blood. Ajeuria’s head slumped on the ground. She held still, but kept snarling.
Roberto slid down Erob’s side and leaped down. “Hold her tight, Erob.”
“I’ve got her. You should be able to find something out now, without having your pretty fingers snapped off.”
“Pretty?” Roberto snorted. His nails had half the Robandi desert stuck under them. He laid his hands on Ajeuria’s head. It took every scrap of concentration for him to delve through Ajeuria’s mind, discarding irrelevant memories and looking for clues to Ajeuria’s behavior.
He found a memory laced with hurt.
Ajeuria nuzzled Fleur. “You’re wrong. Zens doesn’t want what’s best for us at all. I’d usually do anything you ask, Fleur, but I can’t go against my mother or the realm.”
“Come with me, Ajeuria,” said her rider, “and I’ll show you what great things Zens has in store for us.”
Eager to please Fleur, and keen to convince her Zens was evil, the green dragon followed her rider into a barn. As the doors closed behind them, Ajeuria scented tharuks. “Fleur, beware!”
A net flew over Ajeuria, pulled tight by a horde of tharuks. “Run, Fleur!” Her wings were bent back, squashed against her body, her feet snared in the net’s ropes. The beasts yanked, tightening the net.
Fleur laughed.
Anguish ripped through Ajeuria. Her rider had betrayed her. The more she thrashed, the more tangled the net grew. She flamed the ropes, burning through those near her snout. A brute shoved a spear into the skin below her eye. “Move again and I’ll blind you.”
They muzzled her. Then the tharuks twisted her tail, sticking it with spears and drove more spear tips into her belly. They fastened metal shackles around her limbs, tying them together with chains so short she couldn’t move. Reduced to huddling with her legs bunched under her and her snout and tail tied, Ajeuria was miserable.
Fleur visited her daily, watching Bruno lash Ajeuria with a metal-tipped whip until she cowered. They starved her for days, until she was thirsty enough to drink anything.
One morning, Fleur arrived with a bucket. “We’re so sorry to have treated you this way, Ajeuria. I was being influenced by Zens, but now I’ve seen that he’s a destroyer. He tricked me into believing him. Will you forgive me?” Fleur started crying. “You’re one of the last of a long line of royal dragons. I never should have treated you this way.”
Hobbled and aching all over from Bruno’s whip, Ajeuria stretched her neck out to nudge Fleur. “I forgive you. I’m sorry Zens duped you and Bruno. Untie me so we can escape.”
Fleur undid Ajeuria’s muzzle. “First, drink. You must be thirsty.”
Ajeuria thought nothing of the odd tang in the water.
“Quick,” said Fleur. “Someone’s coming, let me put your muzzle on so they can’t tell.” Once she’d fastened the muzzle, Fleur laughed. “Enjoy your swayweed, precious mummy’s girl.”
Starved and half-crazy from being tied up for days, Ajeuria was furious—until the swayweed took effect, filling her with hatred for the very dragons she loved. From that moment, she’d carried out Fleur’s commands.
“Ajeuria,” Roberto melded, hands still against her head. “I’m sorry for what Fleur and Bruno have done to you.” He had to check her reactions, so he reactivated the memory. Ajeuria trembled, whimpering with each remembered strike of Bruno’s whip.
Bitterness ricocheted through Roberto. Amato had whipped him too and whipped Razo, destroying all his love for his father. Bruno and Fleur had mistreated a royal dragon, twisting her love and loyalty into cruelty and deceit. They’d broken her.
“Please, Roberto, help my sister,” Erob melded.
“Some dragons never recover from swayweed, Erob.”
“I know.” There was an ache in Erob’s words that made Roberto’s eyes sting. How would he feel if this was Adelina?
Shari
The drums beat softly as riders gathered beneath the dawn-kissed tips of Dragon’s Teeth. Roberto approached the clearing with the other members of the council. Surprise rippled through the crowd. He didn’t care what they thought; he’d been reinstated as master of imprinting and mental faculties early this morning, and cleared of attempted poisoning.
Shari, dressed in white and gold, was lying on top of a wooden platform, on a mat of woven river reeds with four long ropes at the corners. Her arms were crossed upon her chest, her face peaceful and her dark braids gleaming in the early morning sun. She looked serene.
Too serene for Shari. Her eyes were closed, not sparkling with laughter, or warm with understanding. Her
