by Jada Fisher
“What do we do now?” Dille asked.
“Follow the plan,” Eist said. “Gather supplies and find the spell they used to harness the power of the brindles.”
“I meant right now,” Dille panted, pulling a spell vial from her belt as Yacrist began to stalk toward them.
“I know,” Eist said before whirling on her friend.
“Wha—”
Although Eist had had plenty on her mind, she had watched both Dille and Zenith create their spells, felt how they twisted magic to their whim. Reaching into the last dregs of energy that she could feel swirling around them, she raised her hand and called a shaking, wobbling portal of light into being right behind Dille. And before her friend could react, Eist shoved her backwards into it.
“What are you doing!?” she heard Dille cry, frantically trying to grab at her.
“Saving your life,” Eist answered resolutely before pulling her friend’s grip from her tunic and closing the portal off.
She didn’t even have time to turn before she felt arms wrap around her waist and she was pulled snugly against a muscled front.
“There you are. What’d you send Dille away for? I know how you two are peas in a pod.”
Eist shuddered at Yacrist’s touch. At his voice. It was him pressed against her. And yet it wasn’t. It was the Blight, evil and vile and set on destruction.
“Oh well,” he continued blithely, his lips lowering until they were just by her ear. “At least now I don’t have to share you with anyone.”
It took all of Eist’s strength to rip herself from his hold and whip around, her dagger raised. But he caught her wrist with one hand and her throat with another, squeezing tightly as he lifted her from the ground.
“You know, I love your fire, but this is growing tiresome.” Her feet kicked wildly, and her hands scrambled to free herself from the fingers clamping around her neck, but he didn’t seem remotely bothered. “Why don’t you rest, Eist? It’s a bit of a trip and I can’t have you being a nuisance the entire time.”
She fought, she really did. She tried to pull magic to her fingers or hold out until Fior could make it back. But the edge of her vision grew dim, and eventually faded entirely. She went still, and the world disappeared in a wave of gray.
Captured
The Brindle Dragon, Book 8
1
In the Mouth of the Beast
Consciousness slipped over Eist like a siren, sickeningly sweet and syrupy as it coaxed her back to reality. But the more awake she became, the more she realized just how much pain she was in.
Ow.
Her throat hurt, as if someone had thoroughly throttled her, and her eyes felt both dry and heavy, covered in a thin film of crust that wasn’t letting her actually open them. She tried to listen with what little hearing she had, but she couldn’t hear a single thing over the thundering in her head.
Oh wait. She had been throttled.
Everything came flooding back and she sat up, heart thumping right out of her body. That just made her sick, and before she knew what was happening, bile was rising up her abused throat.
“Oh, Eist, hang on there. I’ve got you.”
Hands were on her suddenly, rolling her gently to the side where she could wretch and wretch until she was utterly empty. If her throat hurt before, it was absolutely on fire now and she could only whimper in distress.
“It’s alright,” the voice continued, so faint that she could hardly hear it. Was her hearing worse, or was she just too broken to catch it? “Here, drink this.”
A metal ladle was pushed to her mouth and she drank greedily. Cool, refreshing water poured down her throat and she nearly choked.
“Hey, slow down there. You’ll make yourself sick. Just a little at a time, okay?”
Eist listened, just barely, more of her coming back as she drank deeply. She’d been in a field. Yacrist had taken her. His hand had wrapped around her throat and squeezed until the world had blacked out.
She had been so sure that he was killing her, but she was alive. So, either something had gone wrong with his plan or…
“Here, let me get your face there. You’ve been asleep a long time.”
A soft, damp cloth gently touched her face, stroking away the sweat and oil that seemed to have built up there. A few moments later, it rested over her eyes.
“Just let it sit there for a bit. Are you hungry?”
Eist barely shook her head, not wanting to say anything else.
“Alright, that’s fair. But do you think you could swallow a single spoonful of honey for me? It’ll soothe your throat.”
A nod, then another spoon—this time a wooden one—pressed against the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth and the cloying sweetness almost made her wretch again, but she managed to hold off.
“That’s my good girl. You’re doing so well.”
Although her head was still swimming and her body felt like death, she knew that tone even if she could hardly hear it. Bolting upright, she snatched the cloth over her eyes away to see none other than Yacrist!
“Y-y-you!” she sputtered, voice barely more than a rasp. But he just looked absolutely pleased to see her, his hands holding her head steady so he could look into her eyes.
“Hmm, still a little bloodshot, but otherwise alright. You had me worried!”
You choked me! Was what Eist wanted to say, but her throat just wouldn’t allow the words. How hard had he squeezed?!
“You want to try another spoon of honey?” His fingers wrapped around the handle of the spoon, gently pulling it from where it had been forgotten in her mouth.
Eist stared at him, head reeling. Part of her recognized him as her friend of years while the other part only saw him as the man who had strangled her into unconsciousness.
But there was no way that could have kept her under for so long. She’d been through plenty worse and the healers had always remarked on her resiliency.
“What—” she wheezed before her voice broke and nausea rolled over again. “You…” Giving up, she pointed to her mouth.
“Is that a yes for more honey?”
She shook her head, pointing more urgently, letting him see her anger in her eyes.
“Ah. You want to know if I gave you something to make you stay asleep.”
She nodded furiously, trying hard not to think about how Yacrist could interpret her so easily because it was his mind that was still in there. Just…corrupted.
“I should have known you’d pick up on it right away. It was just some green dragon gas. Don’t worry, I have no intention of dosing you like your grandfather was.” He reached up again, flicking her nose playfully. “I don’t want to have my best friend and lover laying around like a corpse. Wouldn’t get to see your pretty, smiling face then.”
Lover?
The word made her stomach churn. But he just looked as pleasant and happy and wonderful as the Yacrist she remembered. Maybe…maybe there was more to him in there. Maybe she could call him out.
He turned away from her, as if he was going to stand, but she caught his sleeve. Tugging, she didn’t stop until he looked to her once more, curiosity clear across his expression.
“What do you need?” he asked, reminding her of all the times he had taken care of her that break between years at the academy. When she was stuck in the healer’s hall, recovering from what Farmad had done to her.
“Re…member…”
“Remember what? You’ll have to give me a bit more than that.”
She winced and gripped him with her other hand. She felt like she was caught up in this push and pull of desires, wanting to accept him and knowing he wasn’t what he looked like.
“Not,” she gasped, throat protesting painfully. “Ready.”
“Not read— Oh, that.” He got that sickeningly sweet and lovestruck look, stroking her cheek with his calloused thumb. “You don’t have to worry about me rushing things, Eist. I’m your friend, I would never do that. We have from here to et
ernity to enjoy each other. All I want is you to be here, by my side. We were destined for each other, you know. It really is poetic.”
She shook her head frantically, words punching out before she could stop them. “I don’t belong to anyone!”
Without warning, he grabbed her face, gripping her jaw so tightly that she couldn’t utter anything else. “Come now, why ruin the moment with all that. You know I didn’t mean literally.” He rolled his eyes. “You always were cranky first thing in the morning.”
Then, just as suddenly as he had done it, he let go. “Why don’t you get some more rest? I’ll be back later with some food and more water.” He stood to go, quickly crossing away from her, and only then did Eist actually take stock of her surroundings.
She was in a dark room that was really more like a prison cell with craggy rock walls and no window. She was pretty sure if she reached out and touched one of the partitions that her fingers would come away wet, and that idea upset her more than a little.
She was sitting on some sort of bed. A real one, not a cot or a straw mattress on the floor. It was surprisingly luxurious and stood in stark contrast to the rest of her glum surroundings.
Suddenly, she very much didn’t want to be on the cushioned seat, and she tried to scramble off as far away from Yacrist that she could be, but she stopped short when her leg was nearly yanked out of its socket.
Looking down, she saw that there was a manacle around her ankle, a chain leading away from it and off the edge of the bed. Eist grabbed it, following the length to see that it was attached to a metal ring on the floor. There was no way she would be able to break it with brute strength alone. She’d have to try to think of some spell or magic that would do it.
But it wasn’t like she could just rattle off spells like Dille could. Maybe if she got mad enough, she could conjure that spear of light? Yeah, that would be useful.
“You alright there?” Yacrist asked, lifting his hand and placing it against the metal door of her room. There was a ripple of sorts that made her skin crawl, and then the entrance swung open.
“You’ve chained me,” Eist said, looking at him and daring him to try to deny how wrong what he was doing was. There seemed to be a disconnect between the evil that was the Blight and Yacrist’s affection for her.
“Look, Eist, I would love to have you running free and by my side, but you and I both know that you’re the most stubborn person in existence, and I can’t have us fighting while I’m finishing up my plans. I promise, I’ll prove to you that all of this is actually good, and then we can get rid of those nasty things, alright?”
Her temper spilled over, aggravated by his patronizing tone and the fact that he dared to keep her bound. Eist didn’t do well in situations where she felt trapped and would fight tooth and nail to get out of it. Snarling, she told him exactly where he could shove ‘those nasty things.’
He chuckled at her, as if that was the most amusing thing he’d ever heard. “That’s my girl,” he said before shutting the door behind him. She felt another ripple of magic that told her there would be no point in throwing herself off the bed and trying to open the entrance on her own.
Soon the torch burning in the corner of her room went out, leaving her in total darkness. That only lasted a moment, however, before her vision kicked in and the whole room began to glow a dull gray.
She’d never seen that before. It was as if the entire place was devoid of all magic or energy or fate or anything. Wherever she was, it must have been a room that Yacrist had built specifically for her.
That thought made her heart rend in a way she didn’t think was possible. Curling into herself, Eist finally let herself cry.
2
Unwelcome Company
Eist woke up slightly less uncomfortable than she had been before, the raw ache of her throat seeming to have eased in her slumber. She almost hoped that everything had all been some awful nightmare, but the dampness and the smell of mold told her that she was exactly where she feared she was.
Eyes fluttering open, she looked around to see if she was alone. She was surprised to see that she was, almost expecting Yacrist to be looming over her like some sort of specter. No, the only difference in her room seemed to be that a small table had been put close to her bed and there was both food and drink set on it.
She sat up and looked over it cautiously. It wasn’t anything like the food she had grown used to at the academy, but it wasn’t gruel either. There was bread and cheese, a bit of chicken, and two apples sitting on the plate—all things she could eat with her hands, which made sense considering she hadn’t been given any cutlery.
For a moment, she debated not eating any of it, lest she be poisoned or drugged or any other awful thing, but she figured that she needed her strength and Yacrist wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble of making a tidy little prison for her if he was just going to kill her right away. Besides, her stomach was snarling like a wild animal and she had to wonder just how long he’d had her.
To her, it only felt like a single long sleep, maybe a whole day. But he’d had her under the effects of green dragon gas, so it could have been as much as a week. Eist looked at one of her hands while she ate voraciously with the other. No… Her nailbeds weren’t cracked, and she still had a bruise under one of them from her time-skipping with Dille. If a week had passed, her skin would be much more dried out and her bruises would most likely be gone.
So anywhere between one to four days, by her guess. That was a fairly large margin of error. A day’s ride by dragon could get one from the academy to Margaid. A four-day ride? Well, then one would be in the wild waste, a land stripped bare and corrupted by the Blight in the many wars against it. It was a forbidden land, populated by vagabonds, wild men, and creatures that dare not lurk in the light of day.
Eist shuddered at the thought. If she was all the way in the wilds, what would she do? Even if she found a way to escape, she’d never make it back to civilization by foot. She needed Fior, but how would he find her?
Her eyes snapped open at that revelation. Her friends. They had no idea where she was. Had Dille even made it back to them? Or had Eist accidentally pushed her too far, too sloppily? She had just been trying to save her friend, but what if she had made everything worse?
Eist stopped chewing and looked at the wall. Could she have made it worse? She didn’t think so. As far as she was concerned, she had saved Dille. While whatever part of Yacrist that was in the Blight clearly had feelings for her, Eist didn’t trust him not to harm or kill her best friend—either on purpose or in a jealous, evil rage.
It made her sick to her stomach to think like that, but she needed to be practical, even if it hurt her so deep inside she could never heal. Yacrist was the enemy now. And while she hoped that she could save him, she couldn’t afford to think of him as her friend.
She thought back to how uncomfortable he had made her when they were younger, the intensity of him being too much for her. Had some part of her known that he would eventually almost break her? That he was going to be her greatest failure?
She hoped not, because that thought made everything almost too bleak.
It was all too much. She needed to get her mind off it before she drove herself insane. Finishing her food, she slid out of the bed and slowly stretched.
She was wearing the same clothes she had been with Dille, thank the Three, but she could tell from a very distinct lack of filth that someone had washed her face and hair for her.
The thought of someone manhandling her while she was unconscious made her nauseous, so she finished her stretches and walked the entire perimeter of the room that her chain would let her. She could almost reach the walls, her fingertips just barely brushing against the damp stone, but she definitely couldn’t reach the door.
It drove her mad, being kept on a leash, so she sat right down on the floor and tried to break it off. First, she attempted to slide her relatively narrow ankle through the manacle, but it was locked tight t
o her skin. When she shoved it down, she saw that the skin beneath was red and scraped raw, bits of dried blood sticking to it. She didn’t remember fighting hard enough against it to have hurt herself so, but she guessed that was the effects of the green dragon gas.
Ugh. How violating. She wondered if her grandfather had felt that way when he’d finally come to from his mental prison. She guessed not, considering he’d undergone an entire ritual to try to use his soul as a window to break through the veil, but still, she couldn’t help but wonder.
Unsure of what to do, she walked around her room again, examining everything she could, pressing her fingers into every crevasse or cranny she found.
Nothing.
There was absolutely nothing.
She couldn’t even find any worms or grubs in what few chinks there were. As far as she could tell, her prison was as impenetrable as anywhere she had ever been, but with the added bonus of being completely cut off from any of the magic or energy she had learned how to see.
After that, she didn’t have much to do, so she occupied herself with exercising. The last thing she wanted to do was be soft and weak. Yacrist would probably like that too much.
That thought made her stomach churn, and she concentrated on just doing pushups for a while.
She couldn’t say how long she did the exercises her grandfather had been making her do ever since she declared her intentions of being a dragon rider. She only stopped occasionally to drink from the pitcher of water that was still on the small table, but eventually, she grew too sore to continue. There was no way to tell where the sun was in the sky or how many hours had passed, leaving her floating in a very boring void.
But still, that empty void was infinitely better than the door creaking open and Yacrist stepping in, a dinner tray in his hand.
