Brindle Dragon Omnibus 3

by Jada Fisher

“Hey there! I see you’re up and at ‘em. Feeling better?”

  She didn’t answer, just staring dolefully at what he brought. He didn’t seem to mind, however, and set it on the table before conjuring a chair out of thin air.

  His magic was unlike any that she’d experienced. It was cloying and slimy, sticking to the edge of her senses like a slug. It felt like it was pulling her into it, coaxing her into its inky slickness.

  Sitting down, Yacrist gestured to the tray. Her eyes flicking to it, she saw not only was there a fairly nice dinner for the two of them, but also two books. “You want to see what I got you?”

  She wanted to snap at him, but she was beginning to realize her best bet was to be compliant, to let him think she’d gone soft, until he let his guard down enough to make a move.

  So, despite all her pride, she got up and crossed over to the meal.

  Sitting down, she pulled one of the plates off the tray. It looked like mutton, and there was grilled squash with it along with some other vegetables, and of course bread. The supplies seemed fresh enough, so she doubted she was that far in the wilds if he had food that wasn’t cured and chock full of salt.

  That was good to know.

  “I know it’s not your favorite, but I’ve been having a devil of a time finding those pheasants you’re so partial to,” Yacrist said happily, tucking into his own meal. It was utterly bizarre to watch him sitting across from her, acting like his normal, everyday self and not like he was housing some evil, ancient entity inside of him.

  The same evil, ancient entity that had killed her parents.

  “Also, I’m not sure if you’d read either of these, but I know how fidgety you get when you’re not busy, so I hope they’ll do for at least a bit.”

  She wished he wouldn’t be so kind. So much like himself. It made it far too easy to forget what was lurking inside him. Was the Blight just pretending to be like him, or was that truly how he was?

  She didn’t know which option was worse.

  Instead of answering, she reached over and picked one up. It was a historical tome on medical care in battle and different strategies used to disseminate healers into the fray. Not up her normal alley, but interesting.

  “Thank you,” she ground out, managing to sound only slightly in pain. “I’ll read them.”

  “No problem. I’ll see if I can find better ones next time, been a bit busy lately.”

  “Well, I’m sure you could get them from Rothaiche M’or with your next shipment, right?” she said nonchalantly before taking a big bite of meat.

  But Yacrist’s eyes just shone with amusement. “Why, Eist, are you trying to sneak details out of me?”

  There was no point in denying it. That just wouldn’t be her. “Maybe.”

  “Ah, never change, Eist. Life would be far too dull.” He lifted his glass of water as if in a toast, so she mirrored him. Clinking glasses, they both took a long drink then returned to their meal.

  Even if with every bite Eist felt like she was dying inside. She told herself that she was just biding her time, setting up the best strategy, but she couldn’t help but feel complicit in whatever was going on because she wasn’t fighting him every second.

  She just had to make it through tomorrow. Just one more day, and then she would see where she stood.

  Or if she stood at all.

  3

  The Worst is Yet to Come

  Eist’s clock became Yacrist, something she hated almost as much as her imprisonment itself. He seemed to follow a strict schedule, with a plate of simple food being delivered sometime before she woke up and he himself bringing dinner every night.

  He usually brought her books too, taking the old ones so she couldn’t fashion them into a weapon, but he also occasionally brought her parchment to write on or even dice. The dice she hated the most, because it meant that he would stay around longer as they played multiple games together.

  He was always amiable and just like himself. If she hadn’t been there for his possession, she might have thought that everything was just fine. But she was there. The moment was burned into her mind, bright like the sun and just as burning.

  Too many days has passed and Eist found herself wondering if her friends assumed she was dead. If Dille hadn’t come back from wherever she’d sent the witch, then they would all just assume that their mission to save the brindles had failed.

  But surely Fior at least knew she was alive, right? Dragons and their rider had such a deep bond that they could usually sense if the other had died or not. Then again, she was trapped in some sort of cell cut off from everything. What if that meant she was beyond what even Fior could feel?

  That thought was disheartening, so she didn’t think about it. Instead, she focused on her exercises and the books and trying to find some way out of this situation.

  But as each morning passed and each night fell, she grew filthier and filthier. Even using one of the sheets and pouring water on it to scrub herself was only taking the edge off, especially since she spent so many hours working herself up into a sweat.

  It wasn’t until at least nine days—by her count at least—had passed that Yacrist came in with his usual platter of food and stopped right in the doorway.

  “It stinks in here.”

  “That’s me,” Eist answered flatly from where she was doing sit-ups by the bed.

  He set the food on the table, wincing. “I do not remember you ever smelling like this at the academy.”

  “Yeah, because I usually went to the baths with Dille and I would switch my training outfits every other day so they could air out. I’ve always been a sweater.”

  He frowned at that. “I do remember you getting pretty…damp after sparring sessions.”

  “Please, I was practically a bog. Remember how I always was putting crushed talc into my hose and breeches during the hotter days?”

  “Uh, yeah, I never understood that.”

  “That’s because your thighs don’t rub together when you dare to move.”

  Huh. She was talking about skin chafing with the being that wanted to devour everything she loved. What a world.

  “Well, this won’t do. I’m not going to have my right-hand woman rolling around in her own filth. Come on, it’s about time I show you around anyway.”

  “I thought you couldn’t trust me.”

  “Well, you have been on your best behavior.” He crossed over to her and knelt down, his hand gripping the manacle. At his very touch, it popped open, freeing her from her chain from the first time in ages. “Yeowch,” he said, noticing the red skin, dried blood, and the few yellowish patches. “Uh, I think this might be infected. Why didn’t you tell me?” His hands cupped her calf, lifting her ankle higher into the torchlight so he could see it better.

  His touch made her skin crawl, so she just shrugged. “You said you were busy.”

  “Typical Eist, always putting others before herself. Let me take care of you, okay? If you’re hurting, I want to know.”

  His eyes locked with her and such emotions swirled in their blue depths that she wanted to believe him more than anything else. She felt herself being drawn into him, caught up in all the trust and camaraderie they had shared over the years.

  But then his fingers tightened on her calf while the other began to glide up her legs. She was wearing dirty hose, but she felt utterly naked under his touch. His look grew more intense, hungry, and once more, she felt like a stupid little prey animal in the eyes of its hunter.

  If she pulled away, she might anger him and lose what little trust she had managed to build up. But she needed him to stop touching her. It was dangerous and threatening. It carried too many things she didn’t want to deal with. Things she wasn’t ready for.

  So instead, she lifted one of her arms, running a hand through her hair. The result was instantaneous, a particularly pungent smell filling the space between them. Just as she hoped, he recoiled and waved his hand in front of his face. It seemed that the Blight had inherited Y
acrist’s highborn sensitives.

  “Okay, right. Let’s get you cleaned up then, and I’ll have a healer look at your ankle.”

  “You have healers here?”

  “Of course,” he said with a sickly smile as he helped her to her feet. “You think Persinnia was my only acolyte?”

  She didn’t answer that, which seemed to be fine with Yacrist as he started leading her to the door. She was irritated that he didn’t let go of her hand, but she did her best to ignore it.

  The hall was practically blinding after more than a week of being in her dim prison. She blinked rapidly, her eyes watering as she was gently pulled along.

  By the time she could see, she felt like she had missed so much. She’d been brought down at least one hall and up one flight of stairs. But when her vision did return, she realized that the rocky walls of her cell also formed all the partitions around her without a single window in sight.

  Were they…were they underground?

  She kept that thought to herself and continued to take in all that she could. They passed large rooms with tables and people around them, what looked like supply rooms, and even a training area. The whole place had an ancient feel to it, but had entirely modern amenities.

  And when she called upon her sight, she could see magic shimmering at the edge of things but very much muted, as if the whole place had been carved out from the natural order of her planet. Who knew, maybe it was. She wouldn’t put it past the Blight to do something like that. In fact, it made sense that it would.

  They had been walking and climbing rickety, crumbling stairs for several minutes when they passed the first real door that she had seen since her cell. Double-thick wood and fitted with several locks, she could see a faint glow from within.

  She didn’t think about it before she dug her heels in, her eyes locked on the first real amount of magic she had seen since waking up. Licking her lips, her free hand automatically reached out for it before Yacrist suddenly grabbed that too.

  “I should have known you would notice that,” he said, his smile amused despite his fingers wrapped around her wrist. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let you see what I’ve been planning. You have been awfully good.”

  Eist nodded, eyes wide. He was going to show her what he was planning? She knew it was because she was in a spot where she could do nothing useful with that information, but that was just the Blight underestimating her. It had underestimated her parents too, and that had gotten it locked away outside of time and the realm for nearly a decade.

  Letting go of both her hands, he moved to the door and pressed his hand to it. Chuckling to himself, he gave Eist a pleased look. “I have to admit, this whole having a body business is too fun. To think, I’ve spent all these eons here and never been able to interact with something so simple as a lock.”

  With that, he shrugged and entered, leaving her to follow him.

  It was a large room that looked similar to the battle tent they had spent far too much time in during the Margaid siege. There was a map set up on the table and pieces that she assumed were resources or important to his plan.

  And there were so many books. None of them looked like any of the ones he had been giving her, so she wondered what they could be.

  Yacrist noticed exactly where her attention was.

  “I know it’s a bit vain, but I like to see how your world views me. These are most of the volumes I could find, scattered across your kingdoms and tucked into ancient archives. Our time together actually led me to several of them.”

  “This isn’t vanity,” Eist countered, looking at all the shelves that lined every wall. “You’re trying to hoard all the information about yourself. Make sure no one finds it before you can do…whatever it is you’re planning.”

  “Oh, Eist, why do you always assume the worst of me?”

  “You killed my parents!”

  “Well, in my defense, they were trying to kill me.”

  “You were trying to destroy our world!”

  “Oh no, now that’s where you have it wrong. I’m going to free your world and have it join the utopia that I have created, free from all the ‘deities,’ as you call them, who pervert the natural order and enslave entire realms to their will.”

  He tugged on her hand, pulling her to the table. He pointed to the map, and she saw the old kingdom of Baeldred surrounded by all sorts of resource pieces.

  They were… They were in Baeldred? That was a bit away from Rothaiche M’or, but nothing like the wilds.

  “You see, we’re in the old, abandoned kingdom, the one that was mined too deeply, too quickly, and your entire people moved themselves to a different range. One more stable. Your mother was from that new kingdom. Did she tell you that?”

  Eist nodded, eyes wide. It was like dozens of possibilities were opening in her mind now that she knew where she was. If she could just find some way to slip away…

  “Why are we here?” she asked finally. She needed to keep him talking. Needed him to tell her everything in that twisted mind of his so she could get free and use it against him later.

  This was always the issue with megalomaniacs, even ancient, otherworldly ones. They thought themselves better than everyone around them and usually couldn’t resist telling all those they considered inferior about their brilliant plan.

  “That, my dear, is the best part. I’m going to use their greed, their hubris, against them.” He turned to her, leaning against the table and looking so entirely smug with himself. “With all your extended history with green dragon gas, did you know that there are even more uses for it?”

  Eist felt herself go pale at that. “More?”

  He nodded. “For example, if you mix a specific concentration of it with the acid from a silver dragon, the results can be…rather dramatic.”

  Her heart shot right into her throat. “W-what do you mean?”

  “What I mean, my dear, is that my followers have been harvesting both of those things for months, mixing them and storing them in the deepest parts of this kingdom. All I need is one small fire and poof—” He made a dramatic motion with his hands. “—the mountain range and entire surrounding countryside will collapse.”

  Eist had thought the whole situation couldn’t get any worse, but it definitely was. Although Baeldred had moved to a neighboring range, there were still dozens of villages, farms, and sprawling towns that stood outside of where their first stronghold had been.

  Thousands of people would die. It would be awful, buried in the rubble or crushed outright in the explosion. It would be chaos.

  “Why would you need to do that? These people aren’t your dragon riders, or enemies. You’ll kill so many.”

  “Necessary sacrifices, unfortunately. This explosion will disrupt what few magic streams that still run through your drained world, and the veil between will be weakened enough that I can summon the Three and devour them.”

  “That won’t work. That can’t possibly work.”

  “Oh, but it will. You see, the Three are parasites, runners from a world that I had freed from their grip. They found your planet, and ousted the spirits who were already here, absorbed their power and left them as little more than shadows.

  “Then they hid themselves away behind that veil, taking the souls with them that pass beyond for their court. Since they didn’t allow your people to return back to your realm’s natural way of things, it caused a rift, and that was when everything went out of balance.”

  He took a step toward her, eyes bright and excited. “Don’t you see, Eist? I’m doing this for your people. All of you. And when the veil is broken and I have finally vanquished the Three, every errant soul will return to your world and replenish the life that is so missing here.”

  Eist stared at him with wide eyes. So much of what he was saying made sense, especially with what Dille had told her of the magic she had in her previous life. But she knew, without a shadow of doubt, that the Blight was evil. So how could what he was saying be true? Some
thing wasn’t connecting like it should.

  Unless…unless the Three were bad and the Blight was just a worse consequence of them. Could that be possible? Could the All-Mother, the Grandfather, and the Storm all be invaders who had caused her world more harm than good?

  No. He was tricking her. Filling her head with things she didn’t need to know.

  “I… I want to go bathe.”

  His gaze softened and he stroked her hair affectionately before grimacing and wiping the grease on her arm. “That’s probably a good idea. I know that this is a bit overwhelming, but just trust me, okay? We were destined for each other. The Blight found a home in me because it knew that we were the ones that were going to right all of the wrongs here.”

  She didn’t want to argue with him, so she just nodded dully as he took her hand again. He didn’t make any further comment on her lack of enthusiasm, and he eventually brought her to another thick door.

  This time, there was no magic as she opened it up, and she was greeted by a very small version of the hot springs at the academy, wooden tubs to the side of the water to scrub off dirt before getting into the main area to relax.

  “Here you are. There’re bathing oils in the corner. I’m not sure if you’d like any of those, but one of the healers said they help with soothing. I imagine you might be a little stressed, given that this isn’t exactly the most pleasant situation for you.”

  “…thanks.”

  She took a few steps in, toeing off her socks—her shoes already having been taken off on her first day—and waited for the sound of the door closing.

  Except it never came.

  Looking behind her, she saw Yacrist still standing there, leaning against the door frame like it was the most comfortable thing in the world.

  “What?” he asked when she gave him a particularly scathing look.

  “I’m not getting undressed with you standing right there.”

  “Well, I can’t exactly leave you alone. I love you, Eist, but don’t think we’re to that level of trust yet.”

  His words made her stomach churn, and she did her best not to shudder. “No, Yacrist. I’m not bathing in front of you.”