Perhaps he knew that if he got too close to the Norfolk woman, she could beat him? Zahara suggested.
Anders frowned, staying low against her neck, I don’t know. It just felt like he was too easy to beat.
He did mention the crystals. Maybe that was where he’d gotten all of his strength? Last time we faced him, they would’ve been close enough for him to access, she said.
If that were the case, why didn’t he have any on him? Wouldn’t he have used them if he did? Anders asked.
Do you think Merglan meant to get captured? Zahara asked.
But that doesn’t make sense, Anders said, frustration clouding his thoughts.
I can read your mind, Anders. You’re not convinced that we really defeated Merglan, Zahara said after a moment of silence.
It just feels like it should’ve been harder. Even without corrupting the stock of crystals in Southland, wouldn’t he still have more experience and skill? That was our first rider-on-rider combat. Are we really good enough to take out the most powerful sorcerer in the world in a matter of minutes? Anders asked.
All I know is that we beat them and now they’re going to be locked away for the rest of their days. If that isn’t justice, I don’t know what is. The Prophecy was right, we defeated them and now they’re going to regret coming after us for the rest of their miserable lives, Zahara said.
I guess you’re right. They’ve been captured, Anders said. What I need to focus on now is not letting this mysterious rider get the jump on us. I don’t know where Merglan found this one, but if he’s going to go after my friends and family, he must have a death wish.
Nobody even heard whispers that Merglan had an apprentice.Didn’t Ivan tell us there weren’t any other riders in the five nations?
Yeah, he did. Natalia and Keanu were the last ones until us. And aside from Maija and Raffa, there hasn’t been another pair that any dragon or elf is aware of.
So where did he find one? she asked.
He probably forced that poor dragon to bond with one of his orcs or something, Anders suggested.
Did you see how they moved? Zahara asked. It was with skill. That rider knows how to control a dragon, even if it was forced to bond. They’ve had practice.
Anders thought about Zahara’s suggestion. He had noticed that the unknown rider’s control of the dragon was well executed. Raffagaun would have easily crushed a less experienced rider. A dragon of Raffa’s size was dangerous even without a rider. Anders recalled the months of practice it took Zahara to gain her skill in fending off another dragon.
Looking back, Anders saw that Raffagaun and Maija had fallen even farther behind. The red dragon might be formidable in a fight, but he was no match for Zahara in speed. Turning forward again, Anders caught sight of a glowing on Lazuran’s pommel. As he stared at the light, he was reminded of the voice he’d heard earlier that morning. Zorna told him he had spoken the ancient language just before waking. He tried to remember what the voice sounded like, knowing that it didn’t come from anyone he knew at camp. The sound slipped from his memory and he looked ahead again.
Anders could see the rider in black more clearly now. He could easily define the dragon’s shape against the mountainous backdrop. Anders reached toward them with his mind, feeling at the dragon and rider’s presence. Though their signal was weak, it was enough to track even if he lost sight of them. Anders wondered whether this rider was well trained enough to conceal himself and his dragon once they dipped into the Frozentip Mountains.
Anders and Zahara had gained significant ground on the rider in black by the time they reached the foothills. The fleeing rider repeatedly looked over his padded shoulder as they struggled to stay ahead of their pursuers. From close-range, Anders could only sense the dragon’s mind, not the rider’s. Either the rider was very good at concealing himself or he didn’t have a mind, which Anders suspected wasn’t possible. Frequently, Anders glanced over his shoulder to check on the progress of Raffa and Maija. He hoped they wouldn’t be too far behind when he and Zahara initiated an attack.
The rider and dragon crested the first snowcapped ridge along the Frozentip Mountain front. Diving down the opposite slope, Anders watched them disappear beyond the ridgeline. Anders focused his mind’s eye on the fleeing dragon’s location. It dropped quickly down in elevation as Zahara climbed the east-facing slope. Cresting the snowline, Anders caught his first glimpse of what extended beyond the mountain front. A sea of white peaks rising and falling into the distance revealed a maze of snow-covered crags. On the westward horizon, Anders saw the yellow grasslands of the Bareback Plains give way to the green Riverlands.
Gripping his handles tightly, Anders held on as Zahara dropped rapidly down the first western slope. The cold air numbed his hands and the frosty chill bit at his cheeks, causing his eyes to water. He shared the dragon’s location with Zahara as he spotted it swooping out of a dive. Fighting through the chill, Anders gritted and flexed as they rocketed down toward a canyon below.
Zahara’s wings vibrated, thumbing the air at her sides as she sped downslope. Lifting as she neared the canyon between mountains, Zahara’s wings caught the thin mountain air and she slowed, pulling herself up. During their descent, Anders had lost sight of the green dragon again as it tucked into a gorge among the canyon walls. The rocks closed in around them as they flew deeper into the mountain range. Anders sensed the dragon’s location, cutting and weaving its way ahead of them. Zahara’s expert aviary skills closed the gap and Anders caught another glimpse of the black rider; they were within range of his magic. Sourcing his own energy and allowing Zahara to use her full strength in flight, Anders summoned his power.
He saw the dragon cut up and away from the canyon, escaping the narrowing walls. Knowing this could be their chance, Anders prepared a blast of energy, the glow of magic showing in his palm. He rocked forward slightly as Zahara pulled up and out of the canyon to level out. With his hand raised and a blast of energy at his fingertips, Anders was poised to release. Not finding his target, though, Anders stayed his magic, confused at where they’d gone. Cursing himself for focusing his minds eye on his magic and taking it off the other dragon, Anders realized he’d lost them. Refocusing back on the dragon, Anders searched the area.
In the canyon again, he said to Zahara, irritated that he had missed this opportunity to strike. Stay along the rim; we’ll catch them faster that way.
Zahara doubled her speed now that she didn’t have to wind through the canyon walls and Anders could feel them closing the gap again. This time he would wait to source his energy until he had a clear line of sight. He knew they were close; he could feel the dragon as it veered through the widening canyon working downslope. Suddenly, the dragon pulled up and flew out of the canyon. Anders fired a hasty blast of energy and saw it narrowly miss the pair, exploding against the canyon’s rim and sending rocks scattering down the cliff walls.
Sourcing anther swell of energy, Anders reached for his magic while Zahara changed course. Pulling away now, the other rider’s dragon skirted up a mountainside, hurriedly spiraling to escape. Anders wildly shot three more blasts at the dark rider and his dragon, missing with each one. Anders watched in disbelief as each one of the surges tracked toward its mark perfectly until the last moment when it then veered to the side, exploding into the snow.
His skill at evading is too good, Zahara said. We need to get right on top of them.
If Maija and Raffa were near, we could drive them into this pair, Anders said, looking back, but not seeing the red dragon.
I’ll try to get you on top of him, Zahara said, pushing forward.
They continued to spiral up the mountain, catching fleeting glimpses of a green dragon’s tail. Suddenly the dragon turned, dropping down a mountainside in a straight line. Zahara followed, gaining ground again. Anders saw his opportunity to hit the rider with another blast of energy. He felt it swell in his hand. His heart pounded. He knew that this time they were close enough to cause serious damage. As Anders reached his hand out and took aim, the green dragon pulled into a sudden climb, arching over backward. He tried to follow them with his hand and nearly released his blast, but panicked when he saw the black rider let go of his dragon and drop down onto them.
He tried to warn Zahara to move, but she’d just initiated her loop to follow. The rider hit Anders as she climbed, his outstretched arms grabbing Anders, who was too shocked to move. The dark rider’s helmet slammed into Anders’ chest and he felt the man’s grip wrap around his torso. In an instant, Anders came unglued from his saddle and felt the air under them as they fell. He couldn’t see anything as his face was tucked up into the rider’s black leather jacket near his stomach. He could feel them rotate and Anders’ feet roll over his head as they flipped. In that moment he tried to lift himself away from the rider, but the man’s grip was too tight.
From where they’d made contact, Anders knew they weren’t far above the snow-covered mountaintop. Quickly, Anders forced a pulse of energy out from all directions just as Merglan had done in their fight earlier. As they hit the ground, the momentary gap he had created between them closed again. Anders landed on the rider. Bouncing away from him after the initial impact, Anders hit the snow and began rolling. Unable to see the rider’s location, Anders intentionally picked up speed as he tumbled across the hardened snowpack.
White snow and blue sky swirled together as he rolled. He then summoned some energy and pushed it in one direction, hoping to slow or stop his momentum. Launching himself into the air, Anders’ rotation now slowed and he suddenly found himself looking at down at the mountainside. He saw the rider in black also slowing his downward slide, bearing all of his weight down on the handle of a blade stabbed into the snow.
Coming toward the ground, Anders used a small amount of energy to slow himself enough to land upright on the slope. Digging his feet into the snow, Anders looked to the rider as he came to a halt just downslope. Drawing Lazuran from its sheath, Anders felt the comforting weight of the blade in his hand. He twirled the sword with the flick of his wrist and watched as the rider in black sheathed his dagger and drew a long broadsword. Anders thought the rider would wait for Anders to make the first move, but he started uphill at a dead run.
Recalling Ivan’s training, Anders pointed his mind at the rider’s and launched a mental attack. To his surprise, his pointed attack found no mental presence to grab hold of. Anders retracted his magic and tried again, this time searching to see if he’d missed a cleverly fortified mind. As the rider plodded his way up the snowfield, Anders searched him for any mental signature. The more he searched, the more he sensed this man had no soul. There were no signs of protection around his mind, no walls or anything; he was simply a body carrying out Merglan’s bidding. Having focused on his mental attack for too long, Anders lost all momentum of his potential uphill advantage.
The man in black swiped his long sword at Anders’ feet. Leaping over the blade, Anders stabbed Lazuran at the rider’s helmeted head. The man narrowly dodged his blade as it scraped against the faceplate. Swiping again, the rider tried to take Anders’ legs out from under him. Anders reacted in time to block the low-angled strike. Quickly calling on his magic, Anders raised his left hand and shot a pulse of energy from his palm. The blast should’ve been enough to send them both flying, but to Anders’ amazement, the magical energy bent around the rider’s body and continued past him.
Thinking the blast of energy would’ve given them a moment’s separation, Anders didn’t anticipate the rider’s next attack. Frantically, Anders deflected the man’s continued low-angled blows, backing side hill to get away. Escaping out of reach of the rider’s sword, Anders took advantage of the brief delay and poised himself for an assault. Attacking first this time in their duel, Anders fought to gain an opening on the rider. After a complicated series of blows, Anders saw an opening and took it. As Lazuran found it’s mark, he expected the sword to dig into flesh, but it clanged against steel.
Anders retreated several paces, startled by the unexpected sound. He looked to the man’s side as the rider felt at the hole in his leather riding jacket. Through the gap, Anders could see the light blue glow of a crystal shining from the hilt of the rider’s dagger. Anders had struck the man in the side directly into the dagger’s hilt, blocking his blade from the deathly blow. Seeing the rider pull aside his coat and take hold of the dagger, Anders knew his opponent now intended to strike with magic. Producing a shield, Anders was able to block the attack before the other rider could tap into his crystal. The flash from the dagger handle fragmented, breaking into slivers as it passed over Anders’ shield. A split second after seeing the light, Anders felt the force pushing him down into the snow.
Once the wave had passed, he released his shield, trying to pull up out of the snow. The rider in black had been struck by a fragment of his own magic and landed on his back several yards downslope. As the man in black began to move, Anders saw his helmet slide away down the hill. Anders paused, waiting for the man to rise. With his helmet removed Anders might get his first glimpse of the stranger’s face.
Sitting up in the snow with his back turned to Anders, the rider slowly rose to his feet. Seeing the man’s graying hair hanging down past his shoulders, Anders’ mind began to spin. He stood waist-deep in the snow looking down at the familiar way in which the man composed himself. Turning and looking back at him with dull, lifeless eyes, Anders’ father stood on the snowy slope, an agent of evil. Anders shook his head in disbelief as he stared at Ivan’s pale complexion glaring back at him. For a moment, he considered Ivan to be a ghost, but the sight of blood trickling down his father’s face carried confirmation of life inside the shell.
