by Jada Fisher
“Fior, I need you to tell all of them to run. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?”
While there were several dragon types that could communicate across their own species in an instant, the only one that could talk to all of them at once was the white dragon, and there was no way she was—
Suddenly, Fior took off, veering to the side and shooting in a direction that didn’t make sense. He was going away from Yacrist. Eist was about to reprimand him, when she saw exactly who he was going for.
“By the Three…” she breathed, all of the air rushing out of her.
Sure enough, the white dragon was flying in a circle around the battlefield, Elspeth perched on her back in full armor, looking radiant and alabaster and just like the legends of old.
Fior flew straight toward her, pulling up short in front of the massive dragon’s lavender eyes and letting out a few short barks. Meanwhile, Elspeth let out a loud gasp—or at least Eist assumed it was loud—and leaned forward.
“W’allenhaus! You’re free? Your friends had thought they lost you again!”
“Yeah, there was something I needed to do. But now I need you to tell all of these dragons that we have to retreat.”
“Why?”
“Because we can’t stop Yacrist. At least, not now.”
“But if we were to run, he would give chase, surely.”
Eist pulled at her hair. After so long completely by herself in her cage, she didn’t have much patience. “Fior and I will take care of that. I just… I just need all of you out of here, okay?”
“Eist, are you suggested that, after assembling nearly an entire battalion of riders to bring you home, that we leave you behind again?”
“Alright, fine. Just tell them to fall back!”
“That I can do.”
She leaned into her dragon, whispering something that Eist couldn’t hope to catch, and it was like a ripple went through the entire battlefield. Fior didn’t wait, swooping down and hurtling straight for Yacrist.
“Alright, I need another big one, okay? Do you think you’ve got that in you?”
He rumbled, tucking his wings in to gain more speed, and then the next moment, he was barreling straight into Yacrist.
They both went down, Yacrist seemingly too surprised by their tackle to react right away. Eist could hear her friends crying out in surprise as their dragons retreated—no doubt against their riders’ orders—but she ignored that. She had a fight to win.
“Eist, don’t do this,” Yacrist said, trying to hold open Fior’s jaw as the dragon bore down harder on him. “We could be so much.”
“The only thing you’re going to be is dead,” she snarled, holding her hand out to call a spear of light to it. But nothing happened and she only belatedly remembered that whatever he had done to keep her magic from her was still working.
Yacrist seemed to realize what happened and smirked, opening his mouth to say something. Instead, Eist just pushed herself up Fior’s head and slugged the man across the face.
Of course it didn’t hurt him, but she didn’t need it to hurt him. She just needed to distract him long enough for Fior to summon a blast of energy that forced their enemy through the brittle remainder of mountainous wall to tumble down below.
Both of them knew that he would just float right back upwards once he was recovered, propelled by that strange energy all around him, but Fior obviously had already taken that into account, moving his open mouth this way and that as he destroyed the rest of the wall. Sheets of rock and rubble and other mountainous matter all caved inwards, sinking into the earth with a terrifying rumble.
It wouldn’t kill him, but it would buy them enough time to get away.
Fior turned when he was satisfied, wheeling about so that Eist could see all the dragons that had flown to the perimeter of the battle whether their rider wanted it or not. It was intimidating to see all those faces staring at her, looking like she was some sort of creature come back from the dead.
Then again, she hadn’t seen herself in quite a long time, so maybe that description was more accurate than she knew. Ducking her head, she urged Fior to fly forward to join them. He did, but as they moved, a deep, heady exhaustion broke over her.
She was going home. For the moment, she didn’t have to fight anymore.
But if that was so, why did she feel like sobbing?
5
Long Road to Recovery
The ride to the academy was long and silent, yet Eist felt like she could hear so many of the thoughts of everyone around her. There were too many eyes looking her over, scoping out her injured arm, the bruises and cuts on her body from the grand escape as the old kingdom was collapsing. What were they all thinking when they saw her, brittle and broken?
Did they pity her?
Did they worry that he had gotten to her?
…did they think she was weak?
That thought burned against her the most, if only because she found herself wondering if it was true. If she was smarter, stronger, better, then she never would have been captured in the first place.
Ugh! If only they would stop looking at her.
After so much time alone, the weight of all their stares was heavy on her, grating on the edge of her patience and energy. She just wanted to lay down in the grass and sleep, letting her clammy skin absorb all the sunlight it could until she was ruddy and hot to the touch.
But she didn’t tell them to stop staring. She didn’t speak at all. She just hugged Fior’s back and looked at the trees and clouds and grass and everything she’d thought that she would never see again. She smelled the fresh air, the crispness of it, felt the wind across her face. It was all almost too much, too painful, overwhelming all of her senses, and yet she loved it all at the same time.
But then the academy came into view and she couldn’t help it when a hiccupping sob bubbled up from her throat and big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks. It made her burn with embarrassment, but then both Dille and Athar were swooping in close on either side of her, sandwiching her between their two red dragons.
“Are you alright?” the witch asked, her hand extending outwards but stopping when Eist flinched automatically at the contact. “We just want to help.”
But Eist just shook her head. There was no helping her. She was so twisted up and confused inside. Part of her mind was telling her that she should be happy that she was free and everything was better, but the rest of her mind was in such a panic, expecting something dark and awful to come swooping out and make everything awful again. After all, Yacrist knew where she was going. What would stop him from finding her again and taking her, and keeping her locked up just like he had before? He was so strong.
A soft cloth brushed her cheek, and she jerked away only to see it was Athar gently pressing a handkerchief to her.
“Here,” he said, trying to smile softly through his split lips and battered face. It took several blinks for her to realize just how swollen and bruised his visage was. If it weren’t for his distinctive long hair, she might not have recognized it at all.
Carefully, Eist took the cloth and wiped her eyes. Perhaps a bit harder than she should have, but still, it was better than leaving her tears hot and sticky down her cheeks. It was bad enough that she could still feel everyone else’s eyes on her, burning into the deepest parts of her being. She didn’t need them to see the tear tracks as they made their way to her neck.
After what seemed like an eternity, they landed, and she slid from Fior’s back. Abruptly, everything seemed to catch up to her all at once and she swayed heavily.
“Whoa there, I got you.”
She was surprised to hear Ale’a’s voice as the woman swept her up in a carry. Athar let out a faint noise of protest, but he was quickly silenced as healers swamped them.
“You go ahead and let yourself drift off, okay?” Ale’a said as if she knew how the world was swirling all around Eist. “You’ve been through a lot. Listen to your body. Just close your eyes and let your
self fall.”
Eist wanted to tell the woman that she couldn’t, that Yacrist might be lurking there, or that she was afraid if she closed her eyes that she would wake up back in her cell. But instead, she just heaved a sigh and let herself slip down into the darkness of it all.
In the darkness, it was quiet.
When Eist woke up, she expected to be in the healer’s hall again, all bound up and trapped, just in a different way.
But instead of the busy and dim hall, she was greeted by a soft, comfortable bed and concerned faces all around her.
She tried to open her mouth to ask where she was, but her mouth was too dry, her lips too cracked, so she just pointed to the lower part of her feet weakly.
Dille was at her side with a tankard in what seemed like a moment, helping Eist sit up and gulp at the liquid. This time, she managed not to flinch away, but that was mostly because her thirst demanded she drink as much as she could as quickly as possible.
“Careful, not too fast. You don’t want to make yourself sick.”
Eist tried to contain herself, but it just tasted so good. Thankfully, Dille didn’t take the cup away from her until she’d had her fill, and then propped plenty of pillows behind Eist’s back so she could sit up.
Sure enough, Athar and Ain were both there, bruises still stark against their differing complexions. Athar looked especially rough, with dark blood pooling at the underside of his abrasions, so she knew that she couldn’t have been out for too long. Perhaps a day at most.
“Where am I?” she asked, looking down at herself. She was dressed in a clean sleeping gown, and it looked like someone had gone through the trouble of gently washing her down with a cloth. Judging by the lack of itching in her scalp, they must have taken care of her hair too.
Even her arm had been tended to, the rudimentary splint and sling that had bound it to her chest being replaced with a straight-splint at her side. She was relieved to see that she could move the limb, as long as she was careful.
“My personal quarters.”
Eist’s eyes flicked to the door, where she saw Elspeth standing there with a tray heaping with food.
No way. Was the head of all of the Dragon Council really serving Eist food in her bed? That was even less believable than her being alive after being in the clutches of their greatest enemy for…for…
“How long was I gone?” Eist asked slowly. Before her first escape attempt, she was pretty sure she’d had a solid track of time. But after that, and Yacrist stopping his daily visits, everything had just faded into one long stream of preparation and vengeance.
“A little over a moon cycle,” the woman answered, crossing to her and setting the tray beside her. “Eat up. You’re looking far too gaunt in my opinion.”
Eist looked down at her body again, blinking slowly. “Do I?”
Even when she was sick, she had never been overly waifish. And she had definitely been fed twice a day while in Yacrist’s hold, so it wasn’t like he’d starved her.
Then again, those two meals didn’t compare at all to the usual spread she had at the academy, and she’d spent all of her time training herself to be stronger and stronger just for something to do. She vaguely recalled jogging around the perimeter of her room hundreds and hundreds of times until she collapsed into a sweating puddle.
“Yeah, I gotta say, the starving maiden look isn’t great on you,” Ain said from where he was lounging in his chair. “I’m sure Athar has been thinking about a dozen different ways to fatten you back up into someone he can throw around like he wants to.”
“Ain,” Athar hissed, turning red under his bruises.
But Eist just shook her head and gave him a flat look. “Don’t joke about that.”
“What? Athar being tota—”
“Being thrown around.”
Eist didn’t think she’d ever seen Ain look cowed, but the color drained from his tanned skin and he nodded minutely. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I should have thought of that.”
She just shrugged and forced her mind not to slide back into those memories. She’d been manhandled so many times in her life, but none of that compared to how easily Yacrist had been able to overpower her. She was like a fly to him.
“Eist…” Dille said softly, gently. Eist didn’t like that either. She didn’t want to be handled with kid gloves. She just wanted to be herself. But why did herself seem so far away? “You feel…different. Are you okay?”
“Well, of course she’s different,” Elspeth said calmly. “Considering all things.”
“That’s not what I mean. You’re… Something’s changed. Something in your…aura? I don’t know the word for it anymore. But I feel like I once might have?”
“Oh,” Eist murmured, more of her reality coming back to her. “Yes. Yacrist took away my magic.” And so easily too. That thought made her wonder if there was any way she would be able to fight him. She had only been able to survive as long as she had because of the strange abilities her parents had left her. What would she do without it?
“No...” Dille murmured, leaning in and taking a deep breath close to Eist’s shoulder. Before she could tell the witch how creepy that was, her eyes went bright, shimmering in gold just like the very first witch Eist had met in her dreams. “He just sealed it inside of you. It’s all bound up in, uh, something….vile. Something…”
“Like him?” Eist asked, realization washing over her like nausea.
Dille nodded. “Yeah. Like him.”
“Well, it’s a long story, but the short version is that he was the one who made me get sick and lose my hearing back after my parents died.”
“What!?” Too many people made an exclamation at once so she couldn’t tell whose tone was whose.
“Like I said, long story. But that’s why—” Her voice broke as she viewed years and years of her past in retrospect. “Basically, that’s why I could sense that something was wrong with my grandfather. That was what eventually led me to the book. That was…was… That was how Yacrist became infected through those books. I opened the door. And that’s why he’s obsessed with me.”
“Obsessed with you how?” Elspeth said.
Eist shot the woman a harsh look, wondering if her leader was mocking her, but then she realized that Elspeth hadn’t been there for any of it. Not in those tender moments when Yacrist confessed his feelings, not when he was taken from her. Not when he crashed his lips to hers in front of her friends and practically branded her as his for all to see.
She didn’t know.
But out of nowhere, Eist was at a loss for words. She didn’t want to describe the why or how everything had gone so wrong. And she definitely didn’t want to think about her best friend strangling her, or breaking her arm, or threatening to execute all of her friends.
It hurt. It all hurt so terribly.
Dille sat on the bed gently, taking Eist’s good hand in her own. “Did he… Did he hurt you?”
Eist raised her eyebrows and sent a pointed look to her injured arm. That earned the faintest ghost of a chuckle from Dille while Athar shifted uncomfortably.
“You know what?” Ain said, standing up suddenly. “I think I’ll go make sure that the dragons have all eaten. Right now.” He tilted his head toward her. “Feel better, alright? You won’t believe how boring this place is without you.”
With that, he was gone, out the door and beyond her sight. Dille stared after him for a few beats before returning her attention back to Eist.
“You don’t have to answer,” she said softly. “But if you want to...”
Eist shook her head. “Talking about it just makes me think about all of it, and right now, I just don’t want to think at all.”
There was the sound of splintering wood, and it startled Eist so badly that she flung her tray off the bed. The whole meal went toppling onto the ground and she looked around with wild eyes to see that Athar had broken both of the armrests of the nice chair he was in.
“That seat was older t
han you or your parents or your parents’ parents,” Elspeth remarked mildly, bending over to pick up all the food that was now spread across her very expensive-looking carpet.
“Sorry,” Athar muttered, but he looked more enraged than embarrassed.
“Athar, why don’t you go refill this tray with things that Eist likes? Tell the kitchen all of her favorites. I told them earlier to expect special orders.”
“But I—”
Elspeth’s gaze sharpened. “That wasn’t a request, young man. It was an order. Get Eist food so she can have a great first meal.”
He looked like he was considering arguing just one more time but then thought better of it, heading out the door. Eist felt a bit guilty that it was clearly her that had upset him, but it just piled on top of all of the other things weighing her down.
It was only then that a thought came to her, something her mind hadn’t touched on since the early days of her capture.
“What happened to the brindles?” she asked, hope bubbling up in her. But surely, if things had gone how she planned, the brindles would have helped with the rescue.
“I don’t know,” Dille muttered, guilt clear across her features. “I went to the cave we made, and it was empty. And it looked like it had been empty for years. I’m sure that the witches must have left us some sort of sign, we used to be in the same coven in my…first life? Third life? You know what I mean. Anyway, I’m sure they must have left something for me to follow, but I was too busy…” She trailed off, her expression becoming even guiltier.
“Too busy what?”
“Rescuing you,” Elspeth continued, her tone just as cool as ever. “Your girl did all sorts of illegal magic and drank all sorts of noxious potions to find you. Almost died a couple of times.”
“Dille!” Eist said sharply, her head whipping toward her friend.
But the witch just shrugged, sending her own pointed look at their pale-headed leader. “I’m not the focus right now. You are. And you’re here and safe, so that’s all that matters.” Eist wanted to argue that point, but Dille kept right on going. “Ain wants to put together a sort of expedition to find them, but…I can’t help but feel that they wouldn’t just be sitting out in the open where someone could stumble on them. A whole cadre of brindles hiding? Unlikely.”
