by Jada Fisher
“I understand,” Athar said after she was quiet for far too long, his other arm coming up to embrace her fully. “Th-these th-things we th-think don’t like to listen to reason.” He stroked her hair, soft and undemanding. Only what she welcomed and never more. “Like I s-said, we will see. To me, the only th-thing I care about is making sure all of us live to s-see another day.”
Eist nodded, letting herself rest further against his broad, solid frame. “I can get behind that.”
6
Lost with Nowhere to Turn
“So, what you’re telling me is, we don’t have a plan.” Elspeth’s voice cut through the council room, where surely every dragon rider in good health had to be gathered. Every seat was filled, and every small bit of standing room was taken, even with dozens of riders perched up on the scalloped roof arches with their mounts.
Even after all the heavy losses they had taken, there were still at least over a thousand warriors living and ready to fight. Then again, when Eist remembered that dragons could grant riders centuries upon centuries of longevity, perhaps almost two thousand was a paltry number after all.
When she thought about it, students graduated every five years in classes anywhere from seventy to one hundred and fifty. Considering that close to a thousand could be potentially graduated in just fifty years… Huh. Yeah, their death rate was even higher than she had thought.
“And not only do we not have a plan,” Elspeth continued, drawing Eist back to the conversation. “But we don’t even have an idea where to get a plan. We literally have three gods to draw from, and yet we have nothing, absolutely nothing, that we know could help us defeat the Blight?”
“Ex-gods, technically,” the All-Mother said, completely unflinching when basically the whole host glared at her. While Elspeth and Fjorin and maybe even Ale’a had gotten over the shock of learning that the Three had helped aid in their destruction, even if it was inadvertent, the rest of the riders were not so forgiving. In fact, the Three had to constantly stick with Eist and her friends in order to make sure no one tried to gain some ill-gotten revenge. Because while the core of the riders followed the code and lived quite strictly, some of the riders had definitely gone rogue and done their own thing, as Eist had learned when they had wanted to burn her alive for having magic.
And by own thing, she mostly meant exploiting, pillaging, and profiting from their status in a way that wasn’t in line with the code at all.
“I don’t care about semantics,” Elspeth snapped. “I care about answers. Results. Rituals and spells. The answer seems to lie in magic, which is now flooding our world after being released from the veil you were building it up behind, but we hardly know how to use it because of the purge of witches that was done under your names.”
“We are sorry, but if we knew some grand way to destroy the Blight, we would have done it. We were sure that Eist’s plan to save the brindled eggs and bring them to this world was the answer. We’re not certain why it didn’t work.”
“It didn’t work,” Eist said with a heavy sigh, “because of Yacrist.”
She glanced up to the two witches who were sitting with the brindles on the highest balcony, seeing them lean forward with interest. When they had been asked how they knew to show up at the exact right time, they both said that they only did what the All-Mother had told them. But the All-Mother still didn’t have any recollection of that or talking to Eist. It seemed some things might be lost forever.
“What do you… Ooooh,” Dille cut herself off, understanding seeming to dawn on her mid-sentence. “Because when the magic returned, the Blight got the boost from Yacrist it wouldn’t have otherwise.”
Eist nodded. “Exactly. If it had just been the blight, we could have beaten it that day. But because it had fused with Yacrist and I couldn’t separate the two, it was able to use his physical form to survive everything we threw at him.”
“That… That was unforeseen,” the All-Mother remarked calmly.
“Really? You were the one who told me how having a form from our world was going to change all the rules for him.”
“Did I?”
Eist sighed. No reason arguing with someone who didn’t remember. “Moving on. I don’t think you’re going to find an answer based in an old ritual, or any spells really. We’re going to have to come up with something different.”
“Actually,” one of the witches interjected from above. Eyes went up to her as she stood on the narrow ledge she was on. “I think the ritual we were using way back when we almost beat him the first time would work out alright.”
“What ritual? I didn’t think that we were using any specific spell to—”
“No, I’m not talking about how we popped out from where we were hiding and saved the whole lot of you. I’m talking about back before you first plucked us from time, back when M’baya was part of our coven. We tried to do it when we came out of the portal this time, but the conditions weren’t exactly right.”
“Weren’t exactly right how?”
“Well, the sudden deluge of magic surprisingly didn’t help things. The brindles have to tap into the energy of the earth, and that’s hard to do when it’s whipping about, hot as lava and four times as quick. It was distracting, and then there was the fact that our brood didn’t know your guy at all, really, but he had the most powerful roar.” She wrinkled her nose ever-so-slightly. “He is really big for a brindled, you know.”
Several people looked to Fior beside her, who was smaller than even most metallic dragons, the tiniest of breeds.
“That’s big?” someone asked.
The witch made a gesture to all her brindles, who admittedly were a bit more diminutive than Fior. “They’re meant to be glass ramparts. They’re quick, their endurance is extreme, and their ability to disrupt spells and other magic with their roars is paramount, but they’re not the hulking brutes that your reds or greens are. So yeah, your chunky guy there is big.”
“Alright,” Eist said, standing up. “Then teach us the ritual.”
“Is that it?” Elspeth said. “After a full week of running around like panicked chickens, we may kind of have a plan?”
“Well, we have a ritual,” Ain said. “One that’s never been successfully completed before despite people trying twice. That’s not really a whole plan.”
“He actually has a point,” Fjorin pointed out. “We need to figure out how to find the slimy cad and incapacitate him long enough for these folks to…do whatever it is they’re supposed to do.”
“And while you’re at it, it wouldn’t hurt you to let us flash-recruit some acolytes. You know, people with a propensity for magic that managed to survive your harebrained genocide of our kind.”
“You know, none of us had anything to do with that law coming to pass.” Was that Dryss? Sounded like it.
“No, but you enabled it.” The witch settled back down and gave them all a hard look. “You could have stopped it at any time, the same way you kind of stopped it when you found out your little golden child down there had the magic to save you. You all chose to go with the status quo because…” She made a vague sort of gesture, as if asking someone to give her a solid answer, but of course none came.
There were several beats of silence as the room felt like it shifted uncomfortably. It seemed that there was a myriad of reactions, ranging from guilty, to irritated, to just plain confused, but Eist just let them wash over her. It felt like she had the tiniest sliver of hope, something she had been lacking ever since she’d woken up.
But it was only a sliver, and there was still so, so much more to be done in order for her to feel safe. She didn’t even know if she could feel safe with Yacrist out there, doing…something.
The last time he had gotten away during a battle, he’d come back only to have a battle right in front of the academy. Eist hoped that it never got that bad again, but there was no telling what would happen.
“Alright,” Elspeth slowly, as if she wasn’t sure if she should slap the
witch or grovel at her feet for forgiveness. “We’ll take you to some of the refugee and rebuilding centers in the city. I’m sure you’ll be able to find some magic-inclined there, considering how our world is regulating its enchantment levels.
“Eist, I want you and your crew all learning the ritual just in case something happens. And no one travels alone. We don’t know if there are still followers of his lurking in our periphery, and I don’t want to lose any of you to a knife or some newfangled spell that we don’t know how to defend against.”
Eist nodded slowly. That made sense to her. After Persinnia, she hoped that there were no more plants in the academy, but it was unlikely. Especially considering all the followers she had met during her imprisonment. There were far too many people willing to believe the Blight, and now that he had actually managed to successfully return magic to the world, she was sure that there were going to be even more acolytes.
The thought made her shudder, but no one seemed to notice.
“And everyone else, I want full armor made for all of the brindles. I want the old runes we found in the archives branded into our weapons and shields. I want all of you to study everything you can, because if that thing brings the fight to us again, we’re going to be facing things we never dreamed of. Do you all understand?”
“And what of us?” the All-Mother asked, her chin held high and her voice firm. It was easy to forget that the somewhat plain-looking avatar once was the representation of all warriors and battle, but Eist was reminded by her expression.
But Elspeth didn’t seem impressed. “I don’t know. Is there anything useful that the three of you can do, or is not actively contributing to the destruction of our planet the brunt of it?”
The Storm snorted outright, the sound only halfway swallowed by her tankard, but the All-Mother took the comment with grace.
“Perhaps we could help in your smithy. Tell you what blessings will be worthwhile, and which are ineffectual.”
“Ineffectual because you’re mortal now and our realm is basically godless?”
“Yes. Because of that.”
“Fine,” Elspeth said with a curt nod. “And someone get the deities a guarded room. I’d like to have my quarters back.” Their leader looked to Eist and her expression softened ever-so-slightly. “I’d like to talk with you and your friends afterward. For now, you all have your orders. Disperse.”
There was a murmur of affirmative response and people began to filter out, their dragons slipping away to no doubt be reunited outside. Eist was grateful that Fior was still small enough to stand beside her, and that no one seemed to have the desire to tell her he needed to stay out.
Several moments later, it was just Eist, her friends, the once-gods, and Elspeth. The white dragon’s head dipped all the way down now that the room was clear, her lavender eyes soft and warm.
“Hello there,” Eist said, crossing over to her. “It’s nice to see you outside of battle. I think you and Fior make a pretty good team.”
She let out a melodic warble, and Eist was surprised when the creature pressed her more pointed snout into the young woman’s middle. It was sweetly affectionate, and Eist gently patted the top of her head.
“She’s decided she likes you,” Elspeth said, coming up along beside Eist. “You should be pretty proud. She finds most people boring. She’s been a grumpy old woman since she hatched.”
The white dragon let out a trill that sounded intensely snarky, then her long, slender tongue came out to wave at Elspeth’s front.
“Yeah, yeah, you’ve proved your point,” Elspeth said, laughing gently. It was the most at ease that Eist had ever seen the woman, and she’d been staying in her bed for the past month almost. “You’re embarrassing me in front of my followers.”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want you to appear human,” Ain said, coming up alongside her and going to pat the queen as well. But the white dragon cocked her head to the side, blowing hard out of her nose and sending a sticky mess of snot slamming right into Ain’s chest.
“Funny, she only does that to people she thinks are a bit too arrogant and need to be taken down a peg.” Elspeth gave Ain a blithe expression. “Who would have ever thought she’d feel that way about you.”
“Well, I am feeling very attacked right now,” Ain muttered, pulling his now very sticky tunic away from the skin of his chest. “I think I’ll go take a shower, unless that’s too arrogant of me or something.”
“Well, don’t you want to see your new rooms first?”
Eist perked up at that. “New rooms?”
“Of course. You didn’t think that you were going to be able to stay in my bed permanently, did you?”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure that some would pay real coin to see—” The queen flared her nostrils again, her eyes snapping to Ain, and he raised his hands. “I’m kidding! Just kidding. Ask Eist. She gets my humor.”
He looked hopefully to her, but she let her face split into a slow, slow grin. “You remember once how you slapped me?” she said, sweet as could be. “All those years ago?”
“Aw, come on, you’re not gonna hold that against me now, are you?”
Eist really let him sit in it for a moment. “No, I’m not. But I could, so remember that.” She gave him a wink as he stood there, looking completely surprised by the turn of events, then followed Elspeth as she led them out.
“Normally, we would never move you to the dragon rider wing unless you were graduated and given a job at the academy, or if you’re inducted into the council, but we thought these were fairly special circumstances. So, for the first time in academy history, we’re giving you three rooms. One for you and Dille, one for the men, and one for the…deities, for the lack of a better word to use in polite company.”
“Not that I’m not appreciative,” Eist said with a long breath. “But why are you doing this? I mean, the Three, I understand, but we would survive in our old rooms.”
“You would, but I want you close to both them and me in case something happens. Also, all of your rooms open right into the dragon caves behind the academy, so you’ll have more access to your dragons now that they’re growing more than ever. Especially since one of you has two of the biggest red dragons I’ve ever seen.”
“What can I say?” Dille said with a pleased shrug. “I’m just lucky.”
“What about the witches?” Eist asked, her head spinning with all the possibilities. She hadn’t had a real, actual room since…well, ever. Her bed was behind a curtain in the sitting room of her grandfather’s cabin, and she’d only ever had a dorm at the academy—which had been plenty of room in and of itself.
“Those two have made it quite clear that they have no interest staying in our buildings. Apparently, they prefer the caves themselves.”
“Huh, I really should ask them where they’ve been since we saw them last.”
“You mean you haven’t already?” Elspeth murmured.
“We actually haven’t talked much at all. I’ve been…busy.”
“Busy?”
“Yes. Busy. Taking care of three gods, or once-gods, isn’t exactly a cut and dried process.”
“No, I imagine not. But I suggest you do speak to them as soon as you can. There’s only so much time before things go bottom-up again. “
“I’m sure.” They reached a door and the woman opened it, revealing a slightly smaller and less splendidly furnished version of her own room.
“These are your quarters. Just so you know, while you were incapacitated, the council decided to award each of you a stipend for your time served in Margaid and all the time since. You’ll find a scroll waiting for you inside where you can order certain furnishings and amenities.”
“Wait, what? We’ve been getting paid?” Ain asked. “Forget furniture, where do we get the coin? Or can we write in that scroll how much we want to send to our families? Or can we pay to have our families moved here?”
Elspeth raised one of her white eyebrows, as if surprised by Ain’s
concern for his family, but Eist wasn’t at all. Ain was a secretive mama’s boy, but he was one nonetheless. And considering what he had gone through with his father, it was no surprise.
“Normally, we would allow families to be joined here in time of war, but I am not so certain that this is a place of refuge.” She let out a long sigh. “Several of our academy workers are still filling in the deep crevasses left from the last battle, so I fear your loved ones would be in more danger here than anywhere else.”
“So what you’re saying,” Eist muttered slowly, “is it’s not safe here.”
“No. It’s not. There are some things even our walls can’t protect us from.”
7
No One Likes a Surprise
Life became a strange mix of comfort and discomfort, all tightly wound up in each other until it was impossible to tell where one started and the other began. Often if felt like one would even beget its opposite, until Eist was nothing but constantly on edge.
One day would pass, and then another, and then another, all of them in relative peace, which honestly made everything so much worse. Eist kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the Blight to rain down on them with fire and fury and everything awful.
But instead, it was just…quiet.
And it would have been nice if Eist could find peace in the quiet, but she couldn’t. Every shadow was Yacrist waiting to strike, every beat of nothing was another moment where he was able to plot and plan and amass power.
She had no doubt that he wasn’t spending his time idly, twiddling his thumbs and waiting for her to find a way to defeat him. No, she knew he was connecting to the deepest magics of her world, figuring out the best way to use the sudden wellspring of energy to his own benefit.
Lately, it seemed the only respite she could find was either with her friends or studying magic with the Three or the two witches. But mostly the Three. While the witches seemed more than willing to teach the same ritual they had been snatched out of all those years ago, they seemed to resent Eist more than ever. The young girl felt a bit guilty about that, but she still wasn’t sure that they were right about her being able to just snatch them from time like a leaf from the wind. Sure, she’d physically portalled the male around after their fight, but that certainly was nowhere near just yanking them out of reality in the middle of battle and giving them orders to wait for her.
