Brindle Dragon Omnibus 3

by Jada Fisher

“I do? How curious.” The woman lifted her dress and sniffed at the collar before frowning. “Huh, I would say it’s almost…sour? Like fear?”

  “It’s sweat. Something that bodies do naturally on their own, but since you’re technically brand new to your body, I’m assuming that you’re probably doing more than a standard person would.”

  “I see. In that case, lead me to this bath.”

  “Actually,” Eist cut in, pausing to gulp down some water. “Dille, can you go get Athar to round up the other two? Considering that one is a young boy who may or may not be on the fringe of becoming a man and the other has been glued to the rider’s bar since she found it, and both have a penchant for vomiting, they probably could use their own washes.”

  “That’s a very good point,” Dille said, tucking the book under her arm before heading out the door. Before she was out of sight, she looked back and mouthed to Eist, ‘Bathing the Three. Who would have thought?’

  Eist just nodded in agreement, finding the whole thing surreal enough already.

  “Well, while she’s doing that, we might as well start walking,” Eist said, turning to the All-Mother. “I’m sure you’ll have lots of questions along the way.”

  Why had no one ever taught Eist that gods were so annoying?

  Sure enough, the All-Mother had asked approximately two dozen questions on the trek to the bath, with few of them having simple explanations. Somehow, they made it a bit before Athar, who showed up with the Storm slung over his shoulder and the Grandfather tottering along beside him, a pheasant leg in one hand and a roll in the other.

  The Storm was singing happily, seemingly completely unaware of how much she stunk of stale mead and bile, while the Grandfather was just…covered in food scraps. It actually managed to roll Eist’s stomach, and she couldn’t help but mutter her disbelief to herself.

  “We worshipped these guys?”

  How embarrassing.

  “Huh, I see what you mean now,” the All-Mother said calmly. “They are quite off-putting.”

  “Th-that is one way to put it,” Athar agreed. “I th-think now perhaps I need a b-bath as well.”

  “Good, then you will be able to show Kapunaka how to do things properly.”

  “Wait, do you not kn-now how to b-bathe?”

  The All-Mother shrugged. “It is not something any of us have ever had to do. I think it would do us all well to have more experienced folks with us.”

  Athar sent Eist an uncertain look, but she just shrugged. Who knew that turning deities into regular ol’ humans was going to be so darn awkward?

  “I’ll handle these two,” she said, offering up her hands to help steady the Storm once Athar set the drunken woman down.

  “H-hey! It’s the d-destined one,” she slurred, her eyelids fluttering. “What are you saving today? Hmmm?”

  “My sense of smell,” Eist retorted, draping the woman’s arm over her shoulders. “Come on.”

  The woman followed her easily enough, her frame so light and slender that she was hardly even the same weight as equipment that Eist sometimes had to carry. Thankfully, the All-Mother had plenty of her wits about her and was able to follow along without any trouble.

  A bit of time and two very awkward conversations about consent and modesty later, the three of them managed to get into the female part of the hot springs. There were only a few of the last-year dragon initiates in the place, and a trio of riders, who all gave them plenty of room to find a corner and wash off.

  “Ah, I see. This is nice,” the All-Mother remarked after several long moments spent in the heated water. “It soothes some of the pain.”

  “Wait, you’re in pain?” Eist asked in concern, wondering if the woman had somehow fallen down the stairs or ran into something without telling anyone else.

  “Yes, of course. It seems human existence is pain.”

  “Uh, I don’t know about that…” Eist murmured. Were gods known to be overly dramatic? In a way, it made sense.

  “No, she’s right,” the Storm slurred, her bright, bright red hair almost amber when it was soaked. “Everything about you guys is pain. I duneven get how you guys live. It sucks.” She lifted one of her slender legs from the water. “My feet hurt just from walking. How doessat happen? You need to walk. It’s not like you can fly. And my butt hurts too. From sitting on it. What it was designed for… It hurts.” She giggled to herself like she had told the funniest joke. “And I’ve learned, if I stop with your warm and yummy drink stuff, my head hurts too.”

  “Yeah, that’s the part you have to go through to become sober.”

  “Sounds like I’ll just never be sober then. Besides, it’s only a matter of time until your Blight-boy comes and kills us, right? Then millennia after millennia of living and learning will be – poof – gone.”

  “O’Kaino!”

  “Whaaaat? Come off it, Makua. We’ve been alive for so long, we’ve outlived everyone in our home by thousands and thousands of years. Would it be so bad to join them in the beyond?”

  “If the Blight devours us, there will be no beyond. We’ll be trapped in its web of power, only to be used to kill more and more realms.”

  “Ugh, well, that sucks. Guess you better figure out a way to beat it, oh most magical girl over there.”

  “Why me?” Eist countered. “Aren’t you gods? You’re telling me you don’t have any secrets or ancient spells?”

  “To be honest, you found every clue we tried to give you, and even still, he thrives. I am worried…” The All-Mother let out a weary breath, and Eist had never understood a sound so viscerally. “What if there is no way to beat it? What if there is an inevitability to this…this thing. A way to make sure all things come to an end? That we beings who grow powerful, who ascend and make ourselves gods, spirits and leaders, are always kept in check?”

  Eist frowned, her stomach twisting at those words. “You’re not supposed to say things like that.”

  “Why?” the Storm said, her hand flopping about on the ledge of the pool for a tankard that wasn’t there. “Because it’s the truth?”

  “Because the three of you are supposed to give us hope. You’re supposed to know all the answers. You can’t just give up.”

  “Why not? Haven’t you?”

  Eist eyes went wide. “What? No, I haven’t!”

  “Yes, you have,” the Storm countered. “Have you even thought of the Blight or your possessis-possiti…possessed friend since you awoke? Or are you purposefully shoving them to the corner of your mind, like some dirty little inevitability that you don’t want to face?”

  “You can’t know that,” Eist snapped.

  “Oh, I can’t?” She leaned forward and smiled wolfishly. “You don’t think I’m doing the same thing?” She leaned back so hard, Eist wondered if the rocky edge of the spring would hurt her. “Why do you think we’ve been drinking, and eating? And generally trying to do everything that we can? Because maybe, if we bury ourselves in all of these details that are so easy to get lost in, we can forget that our own deaths are looming over our heads.

  “Deaths that we’ve been fighting longer than most of your family lines.”

  “I…” Eist took a deep breath. She wasn’t about to let a drunken ex-deity get into her head. “I forgot my water canteen and I’m thirsty. You two stay here. All-Mother, make sure she doesn’t drown.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a way t’go?” the Storm asked, laughing again. “The mighty god of nature, who one prays to for food, and peace, or vengeance, struck down by drinking too much water all at once.”

  “That’s not really how it wo—” Eist paused and shook her head. “Never mind. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  “Of course,” the All-Mother said, looking most displeased at the entire conversation. “Take whatever time you need.”

  Eist nodded and waded over to the opposite side of the stream, where the gentle steps were that led out to the dressing area. She dried herself half-heartedly with a towel and then tromped out to
the hall.

  She wasn’t surprised to see Athar standing there either, dressed in only his breeches. She had never seen him so bare, and it was something else entirely to see his muscled, broad frame glistening with water.

  “By the Three,” she hissed to herself rather ironically.

  But either Athar must have heard her or sensed her presence, because he turned to her with a rueful smile.

  “Uh, you didn’t leave the Grandfather alone, did you?” she asked quickly to cover her wandering eyes. She certainly didn’t mean to ogle Athar at all, but was it possible that…he had gotten…bigger? He was massive enough as it was, but she felt like she had to tilt her head back further and that his muscles were even more ridiculous than before. Seriously, she saw him eat and it wasn’t that much more than everyone else, so what gave?

  She didn’t know, but it seemed rude to ask, so she just stuck with the Grandfather question. After all, it would probably be pretty bad if an ex-god drowned in the academy hot spring.

  “I left him with a couple of reputable r-riders who happened to be in th-there. He’s fine.”

  “Ah. I see. What brings you out here then?” Why was she being so weird?

  She supposed that they hadn’t really talked since the whole battle two days ago, when he was nearly strangled trying to save her life. Was he tired of all the danger and drama that came from knowing her? She supposed she wouldn’t be able to blame him, even if the idea made her heart hurt.

  “S-s-sometimes, th-these deities can be a little…m-much.”

  Eist let out a relieved sigh. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  “I’m s-sure. The St-storm seems to be a handful on her own.”

  “I mean, you would know, you’re the one who had to carry her here.”

  He chuckled at that, leaning against the wall. Eist came over to stand beside him, and there was a moment of tension between them before he gently set one of his giant hands on her shoulder.

  Eist relaxed at the touch, letting herself just be for a moment. The silence was nice, but eventually words came bubbling out of her. “What are we going to do?”

  Athar didn’t answer right away, because he was rarely the type to do so, but his large hand gently squeezed her shoulder. “M-most likely, we will have to go b-back into the baths and round up what used to be our entire t-trinity before they turn into holy prunes.”

  Eist allowed herself the tiniest of laughs. “I more meant beyond that. I thought we threw everything we could at the Blight. When I had him on that dais, that was probably the most vulnerable and worn down that we will ever have him. Even with all of the brindles, who were supposed to be the answer to defeating him, he managed to get away.”

  “We’ll find a way. I kn-now it.”

  “I’m glad one of us has faith.”

  His hand slid down so that his arm was draped around her, and he gently pressed her into his side. It was almost a hug, but with just enough room to allow her not to feel claustrophobic. “How c-could I not? Anyt-t-time I th-think I know something, you’ll go and p-prove me wrong. And I’m happy to b-be wrong, because if I wa-wa—if I was right, then we all would have been dead a long time ago.”

  “Well, when you put it like that…”

  Finally, Eist turned into his side, letting her face press against his muscled ribs. He was so strong, and so warm. His scent curled through her nose, fresh and masculine and wonderful, putting her at ease for a few moments. It was strange to have so much comfort from just a simple touch, but it helped that it was on her terms and she knew she could reject it at any time.

  “Why didn’t you want the Grandfather to fix your stutter?”

  “Th-that question is a b-bit out of nowhere.”

  Eist shrugged, stepping around his front and leaning against him so she could crane her head up to look at him. Still, he was so tall, she still could only make out the bottom of his chiseled chin. “I’m curious. I know you don’t talk much because of it. I know you’re, what’s the word…self-conscious. He could fix it. Why don’t you let him?”

  Athar was quiet again, and she waited. She would wait as long as he needed. When he finally did speak, she was surprised by his answer. “Why haven’t you asked him to fix your hearing?”

  “Why haven’t I…” Eist trailed off, her mind catching up with his question. “I… I hadn’t even thought of that. I mean, the last time we touched, I absorbed his power without his consent, so I’m not sure I’m up for a round two.”

  “But if he could. If he came out r-r-r— If he c-came out now and t-told you that he could, would you take him up on it?”

  Eist opened her mouth to tell him of course but caught herself at the last moment. Would she? A couple of years ago, she would have said yes without hesitation. But a couple of years ago, she wasn’t where she was now. She wasn’t so solidly…herself, even though everything she thought she knew seemed to be flying away from her. And if she could hear just like everyone else around her, she couldn’t really fly with Fior then? Not like she did now. Sure, those two other witches had managed, but in their trip to the past, Eist had learned about the things they had to put in their ears and the special helmets they had to wear, and how having it knocked off could be the death of them.

  No, being hard of hearing was who she was and made her perfect for Fior. It was strange to think that, after so many years wasted resenting her disability, but in one cool rush of realization, she realized that she wouldn’t give it up at all.

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “Th-then you understand.”

  Eist smiled, ever-so-slightly, and let her head rest against him. Funny, her crown just barely reached under his chest. She was sure she looked like a child compared to him, but he never treated her as such. She was always respected in his eyes. Always someone admired, even if he was frustrated with her.

  “One day, when all of this is over, I think I’d maybe like to court you,” she admitted, cheeks burning.

  He allowed his massive arm to come up and squeeze her gently in another almost-hug. “I th-think maybe I’d like th-that.”

  “Only maybe?” she teased.

  He let out a laugh that was more of a rumble, but it made her whole body flush. “Let’s s-see how you feel when th-the end of our world isn’t knocking at th-the door and our outlook isn’t s-so grim.”

  “You know, for someone who’s supposedly had feelings for me since he first laid eyes on my little gremlin self, you certainly are having a measured reaction.”

  “You were n-never a gremlin.”

  “Don’t try to change the subject. I can’t help but feel there should be a little more excitement at me admitting I can see myself feeling the same way once all of this is over.”

  “Don’t worry, th-the excitement is th-there.”

  “But?”

  “I did not s-say but.”

  “No, but it was implied.” Eist leaned back enough to look at him truly. “What is it that you’re not saying?”

  Another pause before he answered, and when he did speak, he sounded so weary. “What I am not s-saying is th-that th-there are many th-things that can change how you feel or do not feel, and I won’t h-hold you to anything until you have the ch-chance to ch-choose.”

  Despite his meandering way of saying it, she knew exactly what he was trying to allude to. “You mean how I feel if we save Yacrist or not.”

  She could feel him frown. “P-perhaps. I know he holds a place in your heart, and I do not res-sent him that. I know th-that he confessed to you and circumstances s-stole your ch-chance to answer. If we manage to free him, I would un-under-un-un—” A deep breath. “I would get it if your heart led you away f-from me.”

  Eist’s heart ached at the thought of a life without Athar. Certainly she was close to Yacrist, and yes, she still wondered if something could have worked between her and the young lord, but as more time passed, the more she knew the difference between the camaraderie and attraction she felt for both of the men. But getting
those words out of her mouth so she could explain it properly to Athar was a completely different matter.

  Thankfully, he seemed to be just as patient for her responses as she was for his. “He does have a place in my heart. In my memories. But after everything that’s happened since the Blight possessed him, I don’t know if I can ever… If I can…can…”

  Eist took a deep breath through her nose, but it still didn’t quell the panic rising in her. “Sometimes, when I close my eyes and try to think of the good memories we had together, I only see him choking me, or trying to kill one of you, or chaining me back up again. Even if we were to save him, even though I think I could have loved him once, I don’t think that can ever happen now.”

  Eist could feel the mountain of a man trembling slightly under her, and she looked into his face again. “What’s wrong?”

  “Noth-thing,” he replied quietly. “Just wishing I could rip the B-blight apart with my b-bare hands. Feeling guilty that I’ve f-failed you so already.”

  Eist stiffened at that. “What? You haven’t failed anybody.”

  “Th-that is not how it feels. I can’t help b-but th-think if I had done s-something different, been s-smarter, or st-stronger, you never would have b-been put into that situation at all. That maybe if I was a b-better asset to you, that we could have d-defeated everything already.”

  Eist stared at him for several moments, digesting each word that fell from his lips. “That’s an awful lot of responsibility to take on for things that were completely out of your control.”

  “Well, I g-guess I learn from the b-best.”

  “Oh really? What do you mean by that?”

  “You kn-know ex-ex-exactly what I mean. Have you ever st-stopped blaming yourself for Yacrist b-being taken?”

  “No. But that’s different.”

  “Different how?”

  She wanted to have a quick retort, to say that she was the daughter of two legendary dragon riders and that she had destiny sewn into her bones. But all of that seemed far too arrogant and false. She blamed herself for Yacrist because she just should have been better and that was that. But even after all that she had done, she still didn’t quite measure up.