Brindle Dragon Omnibus 3

by Jada Fisher

  Yacrist still stood there, arms raised above his head not too differently from how Eist had just been. But instead of shimmering gold, there was a curved barrier of deep, deep black that glinted brightly against the onslaught of violet flame.

  Even from where she was, Eist could see the grit to his teeth and the sweat dripping down his brow. He was using quite a bit of power to hold off such a blast, the strange tentacles too busy holding off the rest of the riders to provide much help.

  It was their chance.

  “We need to ambush him. Break his concentration so his shield cracks.”

  “Oh, is that all?” Ain asked. “And what’s gonna happen to us if we’re right there when that fire breaks through?”

  “We’ll just have to get out of the way in time.”

  “And if we don’t?” Ain’s gaze was sharp on her. Not angry, not upset, just clarifying like he wanted to make sure that she was absolutely certain about what she was implying.

  “Then Yacrist won’t get out in time either.”

  “So, a four-way sacrifice just to take down the Blight?” Dille asked, flipping her dagger in her hand a few times. “I knew this place was gonna kill me.”

  “That’s only as a last resort. I think… I think that I can save him.”

  Dille raised one thick eyebrow, looking Eist over carefully. “Is that the practical part of you speaking, or the one that doesn’t ever know how to give up?”

  “Both,” she answered quickly. Although their conversation was only a few seconds long, she knew they were going to miss their window of opportunity if they continued. “Ain, you stand here and loose an arrow once we’ve broken our cover. Athar, how’s your arm doing?”

  “Uh, fine. Why?”

  “Because you’re going to throw Dille.”

  “He’s what?”

  “I’m going to tackle Yacrist. You guys handle the rest.”

  “Wait, that’s not nearly enough of an explanation as to why—”

  But Eist was done talking. She could feel it in her bones that they were running out of time. She crept forward, past the ashes of what she assumed had been the followers who were all standing unshielded on the balcony. Yacrist’s back was to her, shaking as he raised his shield a bit further. He was winning. She couldn’t imagine the amount of power he was using to keep the incredible surge at bay.

  She had moments, maybe, before he forced all of that flame back up at the riders trying to rain down arrows or acid or other secondary powers down onto him. Taking a breath, she broke into a sprint, jumping at the last moment and using the banister to launch herself up onto the moving platform.

  Her aim was true, and her body collided with Yacrist’s. He’d been completely unsuspecting of her attack, it seemed, because his shield broke as they both went tumbling to the side.

  Violet flames slammed into the stone right where they had just been, and Eist felt herself fly over the edge. Reaching out, she only barely managed to grab onto the ledge, the heat of the stone burning her fingers.

  Yacrist hit the banister across from her, his eyes wide with shock. Eist didn’t even have time to appreciate that expression as the purple flame burst through the spinning disc, sending her toppling into the abyss.

  A short, sharp cry punched out of her throat, her stomach seeming to stay in place while the rest of her body fell. For a moment, she could envision herself going down, down, until she fell out of the world itself.

  But before she went that far at all, she came to a stop with a sudden jerk. Looking up, she saw Dille upside-down and gripping her, the witch’s dark hand in contrast to the pale underside of Eist’s wrist.

  “You caught me,” Eist breathed.

  “I did. It’s weird to be on this side of a fall.”

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. Athar! Pull us up!”

  Eist looked up to see that the giant of a man was standing, braced, at the edge of the balcony, long rope in his massive hands. It was only at that moment that Eist realized Dille had the same rope wrapped around her waist and chest. But they were quite a distance from Athar, so how did she…

  “He really did throw you, didn’t he?”

  “Of course. That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

  “You were supposed to go after Yacrist.”

  “Yeah, but the riders seemed to have that under control.”

  Eist risked a glance to the spot where he had landed against the stone banister to see that he wasn’t there. Instead, he was surrounded by dragons, all breathing fire into a vortex of flames. Surely, he had to be weakened. He’d been through so much! The Blight was supposed to be subject to at least some of the rules of their plane of existence.

  “Just a little m-more,” Athar said steadily, flashing her a relieved grin.

  Eist was stupid enough to let herself relax for a moment.

  And that was the moment everything went wrong.

  There was an explosion above their head, heat and rock and acid raining all around them. Eist ducked instinctively, then her and Dille were both falling, only jerking to a stop after she had time to scream again.

  Eyes wild, she looked above to see that Yacrist had landed behind Athar and had part of the rope wrapped lightly around the man’s throat. But instead of trying to free himself, the giant was trying to pull Dille and Eist back to safety.

  “Stop!” Eist cried. “Athar! Let go!”

  His face was turning dark red, his eyes bulging, but he didn’t even hesitate.

  He drew them up higher, and higher, all while Yacrist laughed.

  “Athar!” Eist screamed again. “Let go!”

  But of course he didn’t. Eist was sure that the the only way to save him was to give up her grip on Dille, but before she could make that decision, four arrows cut through the air, all of them hitting Yacrist in his powerful arms.

  Eist was pretty sure the only reason they were able to penetrate his skin was because he was so weak and distracted, but the bolts did cause him to stumble back. He let go of the rope around Athar’s neck, who drew in a wracking breath. Eist shared a glance with Dille, who gave her a knowing nod.

  Eist didn’t need to clarify further, quickly clambering up her friend’s body and the rope while Athar still pulled them to safety.

  The dragon riders were descending, trying to close ranks on Yacrist, but he just responded with a blast of dark power that drove them back, making the hair on Eist’s arms rise.

  It was just what she needed to get up onto the ledge, however, and she joined Athar in pulling Dille up. Once the witch’s feet were above the banister, Eist let go of the rope and hauled up her friend until she was sitting on top of the barrier.

  “That went well,” Dille said before yanking her into a hug.

  They stayed that way for a second. Only a second. But it was enough.

  Just enough.

  It felt like lightning slammed into her hip, scorching her and tearing at her at the same time. It was a hauntingly familiar sort of feeling, and she pulled just far enough away from Dille to look down at her body.

  Oh.

  There was an arrow buried in her hip, so close to being just a grazing wound, but it had caught the meat where it transitioned into her backside. Pain bloomed inside of her, all-encompassing and mean, its teeth biting into her like it wanted to take off her entire limb. In a way, it was worse than her shoulder, as she hadn’t had to stand on her arm.

  “…Eist?”

  She felt the soft breath of Dille’s words rather than heard them and looked hazily up to her friend’s face. The normally vibrant woman was ashen, her full lips parted as she panted.

  “Yeah?” Eist asked, swaying slightly as she felt blood begin to slide down her leg.

  That little movement weakened her grip just enough, apparently, because her friend tilted backward, almost toppling right back over the pit. Eist grabbed Dille, her hip screaming in protest and her leg buckling.

  But she had enough wherewithal to throw them
back, and Athar’s strong arms wrapped around her as the three of them went toppling backward. Eist laid there a moment, her head rushing, wondering why Dille wasn’t getting off her.

  “Dille!”

  Ain’s cracked cry sounded from somewhere beside them, and suddenly he was pulling her off. Eist’s eyes tried to track their movement, and it wasn’t until he had both of his arms around the witch that she even understood what happened.

  “No, no, no. You’re gonna be fine, okay? You’re gonna be fine.”

  Eist blinked once. Twice. But the image in front of her didn’t change. Ain sank to his knees, holding her friend who had three arrows sticking out of her back.

  No!

  “Oh, come now, she’s still breathing. Maybe you shouldn’t have sent so many arrows at me in the first place. It was awfully rude.”

  Eist blearily looked to Yacrist, who was floating in front of them, looking completely back to normal.

  He… He had been faking being hurt? But why?

  “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll just finish things up here.”

  He reached out, and Eist couldn’t describe the sound that erupted from her throat. It was somewhere between a scream and a declaration of war, anger and fear and vengeance all pouring out at once.

  Ripping the arrow out of her hip, she lurched to her feet. Although she was so, so empty, she put all of the residual magic that she could feel into the arrow and whipped it right at her friend and enemy.

  It cut through the air like lightning, so bright that the humans had to shield their eyes. It flew true and almost too fast to see, before erupting in a magnificent explosion.

  Eist threw her arms up, trying to call up that shielding trick yet again, but nothing happened. She was tapped out. Cut off. Empty.

  That was alright. She could vanish if it meant the Blight was gone too.

  But just before the bright, searing light could reach her, it was pulled back in the blink of an eye. And at the center of it, Yacrist was still floating, holding the arrow in one of his hands.

  He caught it!?

  “Oh, Eist,” he said with a happy sigh. “I knew I could count on you.”

  He gently pressed the arrow to his chest, and Eist was aware of many things happening all at once, shifting around and above her with a very particular sense of dread.

  He floated down toward her, his hand coming to cup her chin. It was a scene posed so similar to paintings she had seen of holy messengers greeting a human maiden, but it couldn’t be more different. Her skin crawled where he touched her, and although she could feel Athar moving to pull her away, he never quite reached her. Ain was still holding Dille in his lap, rocking her gently.

  “Summoning spells are so tricky, you know,” Yacrist breathed, smiling gently at her with sparkling eyes. “And summoning invasive gods is certainly no different.” Bit by bit, that spinning dais rose from the bottomless pit below them, piece by glowing piece. Eist could feel the power vibrating from them. Pulling. Demanding.

  “I needed something to represent each of them. True representations. And that was the hardest part. Where was I going to find the pure love of the All-Mother? The comfort of the Grandfather? The fury of the Storm? I’ll admit, I thought it hopeless for the longest time. But then…then I was united with my vessel, and I realized exactly where I could find what I needed.”

  He closed in on her, looking serene and pleased, and all happy—Yacrist-like things despite the terrible meaning behind his words.

  “It was in you. Always in you. Do you see?”

  Eist closed her eyes against his words, but they poured in so bitterly. Playing back the last few moments in her weary mind, she pieced together what he meant.

  When he had been nearly killing Athar, the giant had refused to save himself and instead continued to pull Eist and Dille to safety. If that wasn’t the All-Mother, the protector, warrior and guardian of children, Eist didn’t know what was.

  And Ain, letting his walls drop as he assured Dille she was fine, that the arrows weren’t too deep. Refusing to let his tears fall, refusing to give into the despair. That was the Grandfather, the gentle guardian of the wounded and the fallen, clear as day.

  And finally, the Storm.

  That had been her, rising from her wounds and ripping the arrow from her own body and using her blood to commute her power.

  It really had all been her.

  “No, hold on, my darling. I want you to see all of this.”

  He still held onto her as the dais finished building itself. Eist found herself being pulled onto it with him, forced to look up at the ceiling that had once again completely crumbled to reveal the too-blue sky above.

  “This is it!” Yacrist cried, nearly beside himself with joy and laughter. Eist could barely feel anything, her entire body cold and sluggish.

  She could faintly hear Athar calling for her, sounding like he was struggling against something, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sky.

  She had seen many terrifying, unexplainable things since she had become a dragon rider, but none of that prepared her for what was happening above her head. Eist watched, mouth open, as the sky seemed to crack in two like the ground itself. Thunder crackled, with lightning arching horizontally across the sky instead of straight down. Clouds rolled along the horizon, only to be swept up and drawn into the growing, dark crevasse.

  But in the darkness, in that inky, decrepit blackness, something red and shining came roiling out. Eist hardly had the words for the churning, swirling mass that revealed itself. It seemed to be every color at once, but still burning a violent crimson. There was power there, incredible, ancient power. Stars and cosmos swirled in the miasma, and there was still so much more. Eist felt like she could see people, hundreds of them, thousands of them, flashing across the slick surface like a shadow before disappearing entirely.

  “My gods…” Eist breathed, feeling the overwhelming magic swirling above her. It was like the sun, burning her and filling her with life all at the same time. “Is that…”

  “Their own version of the veil, yes,” Yacrist breathed, raising his arms in either triumph or supplication. “You can feel it, can’t you? All that power they hoarded? Robbed from the world, taken up by their greedy maws until now. Your entire realm is teetering on collapse. Your beautiful dragons, which I know you love so much, diminish in number and power. Your old spirits are gone to dust, giving you just a bit more time.”

  He looked back to her, grin so wide that it could crack his face in two, eyes shining. “I’m going to give your world back to you, Eist. All of this, for you.”

  So many emotions flowed through her, all building up on top of each other in a violent tumult. He was telling the truth. And in a way she knew that, she had known it ever since her dream with the All-Mother, but what she hadn’t expected was to see the manifestation of his truth appearing right in the same sky that she had been born under. The same sky that she had been living under all her life.

  But if that was true… Was everything else also true then? Was he really some sort of savior come to purge her realm of invaders? Were all the tales of him devouring entire worlds false?

  ...no. He had killed so many. She had foiled one of his plans to kill half of Baeldred. It was clear that there were lies and there was truth to both sides, and Eist had to quickly decide which were which, for her entire people.

  But that thought quickly fell from her mind as the sky cracked open further and a rumble sounded from below them. Eist looked down, not even realizing that they had elevated above the temple entirely and were floating higher and higher in the sky. The dragon riders below were trying to rise to meet them, but some sort of barrier stopped them from leaving the temple.

  The rumbling increased three-fold, and suddenly a pillar of darkness shot up all around them. For a moment, it was just like when Yacrist had been pulled back by the tentacle, and Eist let out a startled cry.

  She was surrounded, nothing but the swirling miasma of dar
k all around her as they finally stopped rising. She looked to Yacrist, unsure of what she was hoping to see, but it certainly wasn’t dark, insidious veins seething below his skin, his eyes a complete onyx.

  “This is it, Eist. Behold, the usurpers!”

  He made a dramatic gesture, and then the dark pillar broke right through paradise.

  Eist must have screamed. In fact, she was sure she did. But her mind didn’t register the sound over the thunderous and malevolent boom that seemed to ripple through the entire world. Her heart in her throat, Eist watched as the glowing, vibrant orb shattered and the entire sky became a blinding flash of light.

  She couldn’t close her eyes, couldn’t look away. The entire heat of the cosmos was burned into her vision, brilliant and massive and too beautiful and terrible all at the same time. It was overwhelming, colors and scenes washing over her that she couldn’t even comprehend.

  But then she felt it.

  One moment, she was standing there, terrified and enraptured and caught up in all of it, and the next, she was absolutely drowning in magic.

  It struck her, heavy and thick, like that mead she had drunk with Ale’a and her friends but so much more. It coated every bit of her, steeper and more vibrant than anything that she had ever experienced in the past.

  “Yes! You feel it, don’t you?! Your world is righting itself! I have brought deliverance!”

  He tipped his head back and laughed, and laughed, and laughed, but Eist could barely pay him any mind. She was caught up in everything around her. The light. The magic. The sinking feeling as she watched the veil fall to pieces above her.

  But then, just as suddenly as it happened, the light ended, and the world was plunged into darkness.

  3

  How the Mighty Have Fallen

  Eist stood frozen for a moment, wondering if she had suddenly gone blind, but then the darkness all blinked away, and it was as if the world had just disappeared for a moment in order to right itself. Eyes watering, she looked to the sky to see that it was its normal, pleasant blue. As if paradise itself hadn’t suddenly broken through and been obliterated by a pillar of evil.