Ambushed (The Brindle Dragon Book 4)

by Jada Fisher

Fior gave out a little warble and shuffled forward, following right along the thread as well. She didn’t know if he could see it or if he just smelled something, but she followed along behind him.

  They walked through the forest far longer than she thought they would, creeping along like bugs, and after enough time, she worried that she was somehow wrong. But then they heard cries, shouts, and the snarling of things that didn’t seem entirely human.

  “Get down, crawl on your bellies,” she said, doing so herself.

  Everyone did, including the dragons, and they scuttled forward as quietly as they could, noises growing louder with every length they covered.

  Then they finally reached it. Eist was just sliding forward, using her hands and knees to crawl, when suddenly there wasn’t anything under her hand at all. She almost let out a surprised cry but managed to swallow it before it could alert anyone to their presence.

  Recovering, she edged forward until she was just at the thin lip of rock that opened up into a massive crevasse.

  Not unlike the canyons to the dry southeast, it was dozens of heads deep and widened enough to be able to fit a whole team of fully-grown red dragons inside.

  Except it wasn’t full of dragons.

  It was full of…creatures.

  They were crooked and inky, covered in teeth and spikes and claws. They hissed, whined or made dripping sort of clicking noises that made her stomach roll. They milled about, abominations made flesh, and Eist’s eyes flicked over all of them in fear.

  “What are they?” Athar breathed.

  “Corruptions,” Yacrist whispered. “I think I read about these.”

  “Read about them where?” That was Ain. Always with his questions. He knew that something was up and wanted answers now. Except he wasn’t going to get any, because there was almost an entire army of creatures that shouldn’t exist below them.

  “That’s not important. What do we do? Do you see Fjorin, Eist?”

  Oh. Right. They had come for a reason, and not just to face down the man that had haunted so many of her nightmares of late. Her eyes followed that blue thread, and it led her gaze further into the canyon, deeper and deeper, the darkness shifting to brightness as her vision translated the world.

  She almost wished that she couldn’t see him at all.

  He was battered and chained, wrists and ankles bound in a line with at least fifty other humans. She saw Wycoff below him, and another student, but no one else she knew. But that didn’t matter as much as how many of them there were. Why were they gathering up men with monsters? Were they food?

  “There,” she said, pointing even though she knew that her friends couldn’t see. “He’s with a couple dozen others. They’re all subdued and chained.”

  Aterius rumbled and started to stand, but Eist pressed her foot back against his closest leg.

  “Not yet. There’s something more going on here.”

  “Yes,” Dille agreed. “There’s something we’re not getting. This all feels…familiar.”

  “Oh, because you’ve dealt with rescuing a kidnapped dragon rider before?” Ain bit angrily.

  “No. But I remember…rituals, somewhere below the ground. And danger. I don’t know how I remember that, or why, but I do.”

  “Great. I’ll put that right under Eist being able to see something that nobody else can and somehow leading us here.”

  He sounded like he wanted to keep going, his patience having run thin, but a raucous bit of laughter interrupted him. Several of the slavers rounded a bend in the canyon, closing in on two of the bound prisoners. They unchained them from the line, then roughly carried/led them back around the bend.

  “We need to follow them,” Eist hissed, crawling along the edge on her belly.

  “Why?” Ain asked. “Since when did our group become so opposed to explaining the why of all this nonsense? We came here to rescue Fjorin, and he’s right there. Let’s sneak down, free some folks, then go!”

  “And what then?” Dille asked sharply. “Once we have them freed, how do they get out? And what happens if the monsters notice us? Do we leave everyone but the people we know to die?”

  Eist could practically feel him roll his eyes. “Fine. I get it. Shut up and follow.”

  Eist kept the slavers in sight as she crawled, following them around one bend, then another. She didn’t stop until they reached a final length of the canyon and found her mouth going drier than ever.

  The crevasse widened considerably, going from big enough to fit a team of riders and their dragons all the way to larger than a couple banquet halls. Torches lined the roughly-hewn walls, casting the entire area in flickering light that only barely registered on the edges of her vision. There were weapons, bones, and clothes everywhere, scattered in piles nearly as tall as Eist. There were claw marks on the ground, on the walls, and she was too far to be sure, but it looked like teeth littered the ground as well as far too much blood.

  But despite all that gore, dominating the center of it stood the man who had left his scar in her mouth and his face burned into her mind. His hands were raised, and at his feet was a swirling pool of thick, viscous purple-black.

  “Is that water?” Yacrist asked from beside her.

  “No,” it was Dille that answered. “Whatever is in that pool isn’t from this world.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I don’t—”

  “—know,” Yacrist finished for her. “Yeah, that seems to be the theme of things lately.”

  “Shh,” Eist hissed, watching as they lead one of the two prisoners forward.

  “What is he doing?” Ain hissed, wiggling forward as well.

  “I don’t know,” Eist answered. “But we should stop hi—”

  Before she could finish her sentence, one of the slavers physically threw a prisoner forward and they stumbled into the pool of black, falling head over heels until they were submerged with only their arm reaching up frantically.

  Eist surged forward to help them, but Athar’s strong grip on tunic yanked her back. She watched in horror as that man raised his hands and suddenly all the light in her vision winked out at once.

  She slapped her own hand over her mouth just in time to muffle her startled yelp. She hadn’t seen nighttime as itself in months and the sudden lack of light was absolutely terrifying. Yacrist quickly pulled her free of Athar’s hold and pulled her to his chest.

  When she opened her eyes, everything returned to normal, her vision rolling from the center of her gaze outward. Breathing hard, she looked back to see that the man had let his hands drop, and the prisoner was beginning to stand from the puddle at his feet.

  Except it wasn’t the prisoner at all anymore.

  His human form, hair, skin, and flesh all began to slough off as his body bubbled outwards. Limb stretched and cracked, causing more thick black liquid to bubble up from each wound. Spikes uncurled at major joints while bones cracked and rearranged themselves.

  All of that happened in just under a few breaths, horrible hisses and screeching filling the air until Eist wrenched herself away from Yacrist to slap a hand over her good ear.

  And then, once the silence fell, a monster stood in the center of the pool.

  “Go, my child. I will have purpose for you soon.”

  “He’s building an army.” Dille’s voice was rightly horrified. “He’s turning the humans into beasts.”

  “He’s corrupting them,” Yacrist added.

  “Just like the healer, but she kept on her human skin.”

  “Bring the other,” the man said, interrupting them with an order.

  The guard began to grab the remaining prisoner, who was crying frantically, and Eist knew she couldn’t let that happen again.

  “Dille! Shoot the guards, then I need you to make sure no one else makes it around the bend.”

  “What? What are you going to do?”

  She scuttled onto Arterius’s back, full of determination. “Make sure he can’t ever change anyone else
again.”

  “Eist, you can’t just go down there alone!”

  But she was already leaning into Arterius. “Dive and make that man burn.”

  It was as if she had unhooked the dragon from a leash. He surged forward, roaring mightily and launching himself down into the chasm so fast her head spun. She felt her butt begin to lift up slightly, but then a strong weight hit her back and arms wrapped around her.

  She didn’t need to turn around to recognize the impressive width of Athar, and instead kept her eyes right on her target.

  The sorcerer looked up, his eyes going wide in a way that truly satisfied Eist before he was obscured from her vision by a cloud of fire that poured from Aterius’s mouth. They continued their dive forward, the red dragon landing hard, his jaws snapping where the man had just been.

  When the smoke and fire cleared, Eist felt her heart skip, hoping that everything was finally over. But instead of a crumpled, evil man, she saw the sorcerer holding Arterius’s jaw open with two hands.

  “Th-that’s not possible.” Athar breathed.

  But the man only had a grin on his face again. Cold. Predatorial. And entirely too happy to see her. “Eist! What a pleasure seeing you here.”

  She didn’t waste any time answering. Instead, she jumped to her feet and ran up Arterius’s neck, sliding down his head with her blade ready to strike. She moved to bring it down on his head, but her sword hit something solid and she was thrown backward.

  “Eist!”

  She hit the ground hard enough to drive the air from her lungs, but it was nothing compared to what usually happened to her when she was outclassed. The man took a step toward her, Arterius’s jaw still in his hands, but he was distracted as several arrows rained down, taking out both of the guards and the monster trying to step out of the pool.

  Well, almost taking down the monster. It let out a disgruntled sound and tried to get up again before three more arrows pierced the top of its horned skull.

  “Look at that. You’ve brought friends this time. How is it you got so close without us noticing? There are all sorts of enchantments around here you shouldn’t have been able to break, dear.”

  “A lady never tells her secret,” Eist groaned, rising to her feet. The man tensed suddenly, and then he physically flipped Arterius. The dragon let out a surprised bark, which the sorcerer ignored entirely, taking another step toward her.

  “Oh, and to think I almost missed your sass. I see you’ve learned nothing since the last time we met.”

  “Run, Eist!”

  Suddenly a huge mass slammed into the side of the sorcerer, sending them both toppling to the ground, and it took her a moment to realize it was Athar. He must have surprised the magic user enough for him not to defend himself.

  Eist took advantage of the lapse and rushed him, swinging her blade to land right across his skull - see how well he could cast spells with a broken crown. But instead of striking true, he just caught her sword.

  “None of that now,” he said, squeezing his hand. Less than a breath later, the blade shattered in her hands, sending shards flying everywhere.

  Eist’s fingers went to one of the knives at her belt, the only real weapon she was allowed to carry at all times, but then he was abruptly on his feet with his hand around her throat. She hadn’t even seen him move.

  “What’s this now?” he said, pulling her up and closer, lifting her feet from the ground. “Oh, why, Eist, your eyes are doing something quite interesting, aren’t they?” It didn’t seem possible, but his grin only grew bigger as her legs kicked desperately, her nails biting into his hand like that would convince him to let her go. “What have you been up to while I’ve been gone, you mischievous little thing?”

  Well, if one was out of options, why not resort to old tricks? She couldn’t answer him, so instead, she summoned all the spit she could into her mouth and launched it at his face.

  Strangely, he seemed surprised by that, and he moved to wipe it off, his expression darkening. Eist used that moment to her benefit, swinging one of her legs back and then whipping it forward to slam her foot into his groin as hard as she could.

  He let her go at that and she stumbled back, coughing.

  “I put up a lot more of a fight when I’m not tied up,” she hissed, finally pulling her knife out.

  He stumbled to his feet, his hands raising as if he was going to use the magic on her, but before he could, there was a flash of copper, bronze, and black in front of her, and she felt the air explode like only Fior could do.

  The man went flying backward, slamming into the opposite canyon wall, his body pressing deeper and deeper as rock cracked around him. Fior didn’t let up, his mouth open and whatever sound he made pouring from it. Once more, Eist could barely hear the strange disruption. It made her bones rattle but otherwise left her unaffected.

  “That’s my boy,” she said. “Keep holding him, okay. Don’t let up until he’s not breathing anymore.” Perhaps it was cruel, but the world would be safer without the strange man in it, and none of her bladed weapons seemed to be able to kill him. Running to Athar, she helped him up from the ground.

  “What happened?”

  “You tackled a sorcerer to save my life.”

  “Did it work?” he asked, looking down at her so sincerely, she would have blushed if they weren’t in the middle of a battle.

  “Yes. I need you to grab the keys off those guards and go free the prisoners, okay? But you have to wait until after all the monsters leave.”

  “And why would they leave?”

  “Because I’m going to make them chase me.”

  He looked like he wanted to argue, but then the entire world blinked out and they were both flying through the air. Eist couldn’t comprehend what happened until she slammed into another wall then fell face-first onto the ground. Rolling onto her side, she spit out the blood that was filling her mouth and looked up.

  Her vision was hazy—had she hit her head?—but she could see that the man had managed to break away from the wall and was pinning Fior to the ground with a massive rock he seemed to have torn up from the ground.

  “You don’t even know what kind of gift your little dragon is, do you?” he snarled, barely audible over her ringing ears. “So much power wasted on some brainless acolyte!”

  “Stop!” Eist cried, fighting to her feet. “Let him up!”

  “Now why would I want to do that? I’ve experienced your dragon’s shout twice now and neither time was very pleasant.”

  “Well, like you said earlier,” Eist gasped, staggering forward while reaching for another knife. “I didn’t come alone.” She ran at him, drawing his attention to herself. Once more, it seemed to work. He raised his hand, no doubt ready to cast some spell or another, but then claws dug into his shoulders from behind and Veralda was flying high into the air with him.

  He let out a swear, kicking in surprise before reaching up for the beast. But she was smart enough to suddenly flip backward, flinging the sorcerer in the air only for Ain’s golden dragon to crash right into his side. The man spun several times from the force of the blow, and before he could recover, the giant mouth of Athar’s dragon, Ethella, snapped around his middle as she shook viciously.

  Finally, the man let out a shout of pain and seemed too overwhelmed to formulate an attack. Which was right in time, because suddenly, the monsters and the slavers from before were pouring in from the two channels that led into the area.

  She really needed a sword.

  The wave of monsters was within range first, so she ran right at them, angling herself toward the canyon wall. Using a discarded shield against a rock as a ramp, she ran up it and launched herself in the air, planting one foot against the wall and using it to propel herself into one of the largest spiked beasts.

  She gripped the longest spike and used all her momentum to yank the beast to the side. It stumbled, and she brought her knife up to gouge the spike free from his black, bubbling flesh. The moment her feet hit th
e ground, she whipped the spike around and buried it in one of its six or so eyes.

  The creature let out a croak and then melted into a puddle not too unlike the pool the sorcerer had used. But Eist didn’t have time to be repulsed, because four spindly arms were wrapping around her and pulling her off her feet.

  But not for long. She heard a heady but very human roar behind her, then the strike of a sword. She stumbled forward as she was released and looked back to see Athar standing there.

  “Could you stop doing that!?” he shouted, his stutter gone in his anger. “You don’t have to save the world by yourself! We’re all here for you!”

  As if to emphasize his point, three more arrows rained down, taking out several of the monsters.

  “You don’t get it.”

  “No, I do. I understand what it’s like to think that you can’t count on anyone, that you only have yourself. But it’s not like that, so stop. Please.”

  Eist didn’t know what to say to that, so she gave him a guilty shrug. “Uh, not exactly the best place to talk about this, huh?” Another monster charged her, and she parried its swipe with her stolen spike before running it through its concave chest.

  “Fine. But if we both surv-vive, th-this conversation isn’t over.”

  “Whatever you say,” Eist said, bending backward so that Fior could launch off her middle into the face of another beast, his teeth latching onto the top of their head.

  The world devolved into a mess of fighting. Landing blows and blocking them, pain blooming when she got hit. She felt a clawed hand score her back, and later, teeth sunk into her calf, but none of them were anything compared to what had been done to her before.

  That was what the healer or the sorcerer didn’t understand. They’d made a mistake by showing her how much torture she could survive, and nothing else really phased her.

  A beast grabbed her spike, wrestling with her for it, and she headbutted it for the effort before kicking it away. Rolling back to gather herself, she saw that almost all of the insidious, sickly creatures were through the chokepoint.

  “Fior, now!”

  Her dragon dropped from the shoulder of the beast it had been fighting and glided toward her, landing facing the horde before his jaws opened once more.