Ambushed (The Brindle Dragon Book 4)

by Jada Fisher

  For some reason, she didn’t like the way he assumed Dille was the one who didn’t belong. Granted, it was a fair guess, but there was a judgement to his tone she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Actually, my mother was a foreigner and came here to become a dragon rider, so I guess I kind of am too.”

  “Oh, was she now? Funny, I think I would have heard of a beautiful dragon rider from Baeldred flying around. I’ve been a part of this court for an awful long while.”

  Eist shrugged. “You probably have heard of her. Myridepf of W’allenhaus.”

  His face did that thing that that all people’s faces did whenever they heard of her parentage.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yup,” she answered shortly, looking past him for Athar. Where was the giant man? How long did it take to get a drink?

  “Valatos, don’t you have the elder folk to entertain?” Yacrist said, coming up behind the man with a smile.

  “Ah, of course, young master. But I feared too much laughter might be a tax on their poor hearts. Surely you cannot blame me for testing my craft on someone who seems they might survive it.”

  “I don’t know,” Yacrist answered, offering his hand to Eist, which she happily took and stood up. Matters of court were so confusing. She felt like she had talked to far too many people in far too short a time. She just wanted to go back to the academy and hit something really hard with a wooden sword. Maybe even hit that something a whole lot of times. “I recall feeling decidedly ill after hearing a couple of your worst stinkers.”

  “We can’t always expect perfection,” the jester said with a low bow before wandering off. Yacrist gave Eist an exasperated look and rolled his eyes, leading her out of the hall.

  Eist felt relief wash over her. Finally, they were getting away from all the pomp and circumstance. She had wanted to be good for Yacrist’s nameday, but she felt much more comfortable amongst their dragons.

  She thought that perhaps they were heading for the outside, where they could walk in the waning light or maybe even just wait for the others to join them and all head home. But instead, he pulled her into a tucked away alcove under a flight of stairs.

  “You have the patience of a martyr, you know that?” he said with a laugh, looking so spent that Eist had to wonder just how hard the celebration was on him. No wonder he had wanted friends. “I swear, if I have to ingratiate myself to one more noble who is actually a pompous bootlicker, I just might pitch myself off a balcony.”

  “That bad, huh?” Eist asked, amused that he seemed just as done with the affair as she was.

  “Probably not. I have been told that I have a flair for the dramatic.”

  “Hmm, you know, that does sound familiar.”

  He shook his head at that and took a step toward her. Abruptly, Eist realized how close they were and that the subtle darkness of the alcove had shifted into something brighter than day.

  “Your eye changed again,” he murmured, staring at her face like it was some sort of miracle. Which it wasn’t. Now she just had two blown-out pupils instead of one. “You look a bit intimidating, if I’m being honest.”

  “Intimidating?” she questioned, trying not to snort again. Dressed in her seafoam dress with two eyes full of black hardly seemed like a recipe for intimidation.

  “Yeah. You look like something that a mortal shouldn’t see. Like a powerful fey or ancient spirit.”

  “I don’t know about tha…” Eist trailed off, her gaze being pulled by something glimmering on the floor behind him. Craning her neck to the side, she saw faint, glowing footsteps leading in a trail away from them. “What is that?” she murmured curiously, moving around Yacrist to follow them.

  “What is what?”

  “There’s a path. A trail, I think.”

  “What, really?”

  She risked taking her eyes away from it to send him a narrow-eyed look. “No, I’m making it up for laughs.”

  “Well, you never know.”

  She ignored him, turning back to the trail and following it. It led her to the very back of the alcove and a small entrance that she was pretty sure was a servant’s door, which she hurriedly opened.

  Head turned to the ground, she tracked it, concentrating on the urgent feeling she had within her. She didn’t even pay attention to their surroundings, afraid the looking up would let too much light into her eyes and she would lose the path. It wasn’t until Yacrist grabbed her arm and tugged gently that she allowed her focus to break.

  “Eist, we shouldn’t be here. These parts of the keep are still being renovated and repaired after the last war. It’s dangerous.”

  Only then did she look around to see that they were surrounded by a dank and dingy hall, spider webs and collapsed beams all around them between generous piles of rubble.

  “Come on, let’s go back to the party. This is making me nervous.”

  “No,” Eist said firmly, pulling her arm free. “I need to see something.”

  “What? What could you possibly need to see here?”

  “I don’t know. I just do.”

  Maybe Yacrist wanted to argue more, but she didn’t pay him much heed. Instead she went right on following the footsteps, which were growing brighter and brighter as they moved along.

  Eventually, they came upon a set of rickety stairs, and Eist didn’t even hesitate. They went down, down, down, and Eist guessed by the glimmer in the corner of her vision that it was quite dark.

  “Just for the record,” Yacrist grumbled behind her. “I have no idea where we are. We’re in my own home, and I have no idea where we are.”

  “The Grand Palace is a large place,” Eist answered him blithely, coming to a stopped as they reached a door covered in cobwebs. “A very old place.”

  “Eist, I’m not sure we should open that door.”

  She looked over the entrance, taking in every detail of it, including how it glowed gold. “I’m going to open the door.”

  “Eist—”

  But she had already grabbed the handle. She yanked it open, revealing a room full of books and cobwebs and all sorts of magical, witchy things. Potion bottles lined certain shelves while tomes crowded others. Bones and feathers hung from the ceiling in purposeful formations, and strange statues were crowded across the fireplace’s hearth. What looked like dozens of dead, potted plants sat in the corner. Their leaves and vines had long since crumbled into dust.

  “What is this place?” Yacrist asked, stepping past Eist as she looked it over.

  It happened in a split-second. One moment, the room was bright and golden and full of possibilities, while the next, it was filled with an almost purple-black glow.

  “Yacrist, I think we should go.”

  “What?” he asked incredulously, turning to her with his hands on his hips. “All that bravado about opening the door and now you want to—”

  A bubbling, wretched sound echoed through the room, and he spun just in time to see shadows rise from the floor. The two stared, eyes wide with shock, as they grew taller and taller until inky, almost man-like specters surrounded them.

  “You know what, I think leaving might be a good idea.”

  Yacrist took a careful step back, and the shadows all turned toward him as if they were one entity. Eist swallowed, wanting to back out herself, but then a flash of gold caught her eye.

  There. The path kept going, leading to a decrepit table that had several books scattered across it. Atop the pile a particular novel was practically a beacon, calling to her, beckoning her to take it with her.

  Eist looked from the table to the shadows, licking her lips nervously. She knew she probably should just leave it be, that the strange being in front of her was most likely guarding it, but it was like her whole mind was fixated on the thing.

  “Yacrist, on my count, run.”

  “Why do we need a count? Why can’t we just run now?”

  “Because I need that book.”

  “Book?! What book?”

  “One…” />
  “Eist, are you crazy?”

  “Two…”

  “Eist! You’re not going to—”

  “Three!”

  She dove forward, tucking herself into a roll just like Ale’a had taught them. She came up right beside the table and lunged for the glowing gold, but something wrapped around her ankle and yanked her viciously to the floor.

  Her breath was knocked out of her as she landed, her vision spinning for a moment. When it cleared, she saw nothing but flickering darkness over her. The shadows. She reached up to claw at them, to distract so she could get upright, but her hands passed right through them. Now that wasn’t fair, how could they grab her, but she couldn’t grab them?

  They didn’t seem concerned with fairness, and she felt them dragging her away from the table. She gripped it with all of her strength and kicked at whatever was wrapped around her feet.

  “Hey! Let her go!” Fire flickered toward the edge of her vision, cutting through the shadows. They squealed and scurried back, revealing Yacrist, who was spinning his cloak around in his hand, the edge burning brightly. She immediately wondered how he started the fire. But there was no time to ask.

  “Are you alright?” he said, running up to her and yanking her to her feet.

  “Yes,” she gasped before lunging back for the book. Yacrist let out an incredulous sound, but she quickly joined him again as they backed out of the room.

  “Grab one of those torches,” he said. “I don’t know how long this stupid thing will last.”

  “Not so stupid if it saved our lives, right?” Eist asked cheekily.

  “It wouldn’t have had to save our lives if you hadn’t risked it over a stupid book.”

  Eist ignored his irritated tone, her heart thumping in her chest as she grabbed one of the ancient torches. Thankfully, it still lit when she held it against his burning cloak, and the two of them backed up the stairs together.

  “How did you know that would work?” Eist asked breathlessly as they went up the stairs backward. One step. Two steps. Three. Eventually, they were nearly a quarter of the way up.

  “Shadows don’t like light, right? Seemed to make sense in my head.”

  “Well, it worked. Seems like you’re still saving my a—”

  There was a bone-chilling screech, then suddenly a gust of cold, clammy wind burst up from the room they had entered. It filled Eist’s mouth and nose, tasting of rot, tasting of death, and she nearly gagged on it. Washing over them like a storm, it felt like it might lift her off her feet and carry her up the steps on its own. But just as abruptly as it hit them, it moved on, leaving her and Yacrist ruffled but alive.

  “Eist…” Yacrist murmured quietly, his tone tremulous.

  “Yeah, that was weird,” she agreed, shaking off the goosebumps that had lined her arms.

  “I know you can’t really tell because of your new vision thing, but our fire is out.”

  Eist looked down at the torch in her hand to see that it was indeed black and useless. She understood just what that meant as soon as she heard the inky, wet slap of hands and feet against the stone.

  “Run!” she cried, flying up the stairs.

  Yacrist didn’t need encouragement, dropping his burned cloak and grabbing Eist’s hand. They pelted up the stairs, her blood rushing in her ears. The steps flew under their feet, one right after the other, and she looked over her shoulder to see the shadows rushing toward them, some billowing up the stairs more like clouds than men, some crawling on the walls, and others rolling up the ceiling like bilious, onyx water.

  They all shifted and surged on each other, merging and separating in a way that made Eist’s skin crawl. The most horrific noises were escaping them, somewhere between wails, screams and curses, making Eist feel like she might be sick to her stomach.

  And they were gaining on them.

  Eist poured her everything into her running, but she was a distance runner, not a sprinter. While she was still able to last longer than anyone else since she fully recovered, her legs didn’t carry her nearly as quickly as Yacrist’s.

  “Let me go,” she called, trying to pull her hand from Yacrist’s grasp.

  He risked a look back at her, but his eyes quickly flicked to the creatures roiling behind them. “What? No!”

  “You’re faster than me. Let me go!”

  His eyes were back to her, and she saw stony defiance. “If you think that after saving your life with forbidden magic that I’m going to let you just die in a staircase, then you’re a whole lot dumber than you seem.”

  “Yacrist—”

  They rounded one of the corners of the stairs and almost collided with a familiar form. They pulled up just in time not to slam into Dille, who was staring at them with wide eyes.

  “What’s going on?”

  “No time!” Eist shouted, grabbing her hand. “Run!” She pulled but Dille stood firm, her eyes going behind them. As she did, another wave of wails sounded from the mass and the girl gasped.

  “Dille, we have to run!”

  The shadows picked up in speed, rushing forward like water and threatening to overtake them. Dille wrenched her arm from Eist’s hold, lifting her hands up as if she was going to hold them off.

  “Stop!” she ordered, her voice echoing off the walls far louder than it had any right to.

  For a moment nothing happened, and the dark shapes were about to swamp the girl, but then it was like something snapped, and a ripple shot through the air.

  Several things happened all at once. There was a chorus of pained screeches, ear-piercing and vile, then the shadows were bursting into smoke that quickly began to sink down back toward the room.

  And then, silence.

  “How…how did you do that?” Eist asked, not able to stop her voice from shaking.

  “I…” She paused and turned to face them. Eist swore she had never seen her friend so scared. “I don’t actually know.”

  It was Yacrist who came to his senses first, stopping them from just standing there in shock. “Come on, let’s go back to the party.”

  They rushed back up, Eist repeatedly looking over her shoulder to make sure that the shadows stayed away. When they finally reached the alcove again, they all stood there, breathing hard.

  “So,” Dille said once she was capable of speech. “I think I might be a witch.”

  6

  Old Warnings, New Threats

  None of them spoke about what happened at Yacrist’s party when they returned home. If Ain or Athar thought anything of the group’s silence, they didn’t say so.

  They didn’t speak about it the next day either. Eist was glad to use the remaining day of their weekly break to digest exactly what had happened and what it meant. Too much had happened in far too small a time, and she couldn’t wrap her head around it.

  The next day, they had intense exams from their strategies class. The next, it was the history of war. The next week was spent prepping for more weapons efficiency evaluations. Eist was finally getting better with a bow and wanted to move on to crossbows, so she poured her everything into making sure she would pass the test.

  Soon a week drifted into two, the academy settling into a rhythm, and none of the trio mentioned the nameday celebration at all.

  “Hey, what was the book you risked our lives to get?”

  Eist looked up from the bowl of fruit she was putting together for Fior, who was waiting patiently on the bench for his supper. He’d been doing brilliantly with his gliding lessons, and he was so close to passing that she wanted to give him a reward.

  “I don’t know,” she answered Yacrist honestly, tossing both Alyn and Bach a strawberry. They caught them eagerly and quickly swallowed them down without even chewing.

  “Don’t you think it might be important? Your vision led you there after all, didn’t it?”

  Eist shrugged, finishing filling the bowl from the food pantry and sitting in front of Fior. Yacrist busied himself with getting meats and other fare for his dragon
, but she could feel his gaze on her back nonetheless. “I’m a little preoccupied with things right now.”

  “I’m sure you are, but still, shouldn’t we at least look at it?”

  Eist sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just…not right now, Yacrist. Okay?”

  She felt him set down whatever he was doing and come around to her front. “Hey, are you alright? This isn’t like you to get flustered.”

  Eist looked up at him, feeling exhaustion and irritation swamp her. “I’m not sure I know what is or isn’t like any of us anymore.”

  “What do you m—”

  “I see things that aren’t there. Dille used magic, literal, ancient magic to banish a bunch of shadow things that shouldn’t exist. And you still have the book that saved my grandfather. I know you’re still studying it.”

  “It saved your life. It saved your grandfather’s life.”

  “That doesn’t mean we should treat it casually.”

  “Who says I’m treating it casually? I take everything it tells me seriously. And, I gotta tell you, there’s a lot in there that explains what we saw.”

  Eist ground her teeth. She didn’t know why, but she knew that book was dangerous. That it needed to be avoided. That it was opening a door that none of them could shut.

  But it had saved her life, just like Yacrist said. What if it helped again?

  She shook her head. “It’s just…too much right now, okay? Let me get past our mid-year evaluations, and then maybe I’ll have room in my mind for more turmoil and doomsday.”

  “What if mid-year is too late?” Yacrist asked plainly.

  Eist looked up sharply, wishing for once her new sight would kick in so she could see what colors he glowed. “Why would you say that?”

  “I dunno. But it feels like something’s coming, doesn’t it?”

  It was almost a mirror of her conversation with Dille, and Eist couldn’t help but sigh. “Yeah. It does.”

  Eist paced one of the hallways that faced out into the courtyard, going out onto each balcony and trailing around the borders before slipping back in. Her face was flushed, and she was covered with sweat, courtesy of the nightmare that had plagued her.