Time Warp (The Brindle Dragon Book 7)

by Jada Fisher

  The young man seemed surprised by the movement and let her manhandle him, something he no doubt wouldn’t allow from anyone else. That trust, that closeness, made her head spin, and the next thing she knew, she was crashing her lips to his.

  He jolted, his body going rigid beneath hers, but she pressed her mouth to his, all heat and questions. Was she doing this right? She didn’t know. She just needed to be close to someone. To feel something other than the deep well of despair that was building in her middle.

  And he liked her, didn’t he? He had to, with the kind gazes and the way he looked after her, and how Ain was always insisting on it. How she could make him blush so easily, and how the few touches they shared seemed so weighted.

  Her hands moved from his head to his shoulders, stroking the muscles there, and he relaxed for a moment, leaning back so her weight was pressing into him. Eist would normally be self-conscious about that, but Athar was so large, she knew she could be wearing three packs and the pressure of her form wouldn’t be enough to cause him even mild discomfort.

  The kiss grew more heated, desperate, and then his large hands were on her torso, one sliding down her spine while the other gripped her hip, as if it was an anchor holding Athar to reality. Eist whined, not sure what to do next or what would quench the hunger in her belly and make her stop feeling so miserable, but at the noise, Athar’s grip went to her own shoulders and he was gently pulling her away.

  She let out another incomprehensible whine, and Athar physically shuddered at it. She tried to press against him once more, craving that solace she had felt, the excitement, in the moment that they had been entwined, but he held her still.

  “No, Eist,” he said, voice wavering. Ragged. “Not like th-this.”

  All of the energy went out of her at that. He said no. And she knew more than anyone that once someone didn’t want something, whether it was a touch or a hug or a kiss, that that was that.

  But she was still a bit to tipsy to slink back to her room like she should. “Why?” she asked, lip trembling. Didn’t he like her? Hadn’t Ain been insisting that he’d been lovelorn over her for years? Or was that all teasing?

  Ugh, she was so stupid!

  “Because you’re not in your right mind,” he said gently, hand coming up to cup her cheek gently.

  “I’m not that drunk,” she countered.

  He allowed her the tiniest of smiles on his flushed face. “Maybe not, but you do have a broken h-heart right now.”

  No. He was wrong. She wanted this. A touch. A something to make her forget everything else. To make her forget that Yacrist was now snatched up and stolen away by her mortal enemy. “I—”

  “Shhh,” he urged soothingly, his other hand rising to mirror the first. Eist let her eyes close, more tears leaking out as her friend held her face so delicately. He was so strong, but he treated her like she was the most valuable, delicate structure he had ever touched.

  “I would be lying if I s-said I never hoped for th-this, but I love you far too much to take a-ah-advantage. You have to heal, Eist.” His thumbs brushed under her eyes, gently whisking away her bitter tears again. “We will get you Yacrist b-back. We’ll make us whole. If you s-still want me th-then, I’m yours, but not until then.”

  Eist just stared at him for several moments, trying to find her voice. He was so nice. Was this the niceness she had been looking for?

  Maybe.

  Maybe not.

  But for the moment, she just wanted to cry some more, before the mead wore off and she would have to face the embarrassment of what she had done.

  “I… I just don’t want to be alone,” she whispered.

  “That’s alright,” he said, gently picking her up and setting her on his cot. Carefully, he wrapped her up in both his blankets and Ain’s before pulling up a chair. Sitting in it, he offered one of his big hands to her. “You never have to be alone as long as I’m here.”

  Eist closed her eyes, unable to look at the depth of emotion in her friend’s gaze. She didn’t deserve him. She didn’t deserve any of them.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, letting herself settle into the exhaustion welling up through her.

  “Of course. You know that we’d all do anything for you.” He reached out and his other hand stroked her hair as he settled. “Now, h-have I ever told you one of my mother’s fav-fa-favorite legends?”

  She shook her head. “No, you’ve never really been one for monologues.”

  “Well, maybe I’ll st-start now.” His voice went low as he began to talk about an ancient warrior maidens who could talk to plants. Eist kept her eyes close and let herself relax. She could worry about tomorrow when she was sober. For now, she was going to enjoy the moment.

  The good ones were always so few and far between.

  4

  Too Unfortunate for a Coincidence

  “I’m just saying, I find it unlikely that we’re just going to happen upon the exact answer we need just in the nick of time, twice in a row,” Ain said with his feet up on a library table, Gaius pacing in the hall just behind him. Although Fior and the golden dragon were the only ones in their group small enough to still fit inside of the halls and dorms of the academy, they were far too big to fit through the archive’s old, old doors, and perhaps that was for the better. There were a lot of delicate things in the ancient library, and Eist would hate it if the two accidentally knocked something over or shattered a relic.

  “Name one other place that would have ancient knowledge about how to defeat the Blight,” Dille countered.

  “I dunno. Ancient dead people?” Ain said.

  Athar picked Ain’s feet up and off the table, setting them on the floor.

  Without missing a beat, Ain continued, “And would they even have it? Isn’t the big, bad thing about the Blight that no one knows how to beat it? I mean, if they knew, then they would have just done it, right?”

  “Not necessarily,” Dille said. “They could have the spells, but not the supplies. Or they could know the weakness, but not have a spell. There’s a dozen or more different variations of where they knew something that we don’t and finding it will put us exactly on the path we need to be.”

  “Look, I know you guys got that magicky stuff, but I’m just doubting the validity of making this book-scrounging our top priority.”

  “That’s just because you’re worried about getting dirt into that pretty white hair of yours.”

  “Well, yeah, that’s a good part of it. Unlike the rest of you, I don’t enjoy being caked with filth for days on end.”

  “Really? I couldn’t tell by how often you visited the baths in Margaid,” Dille remarked dully, her face buried in her own tome.

  Instead of responding snarkily, Ain just gave a wistful sigh. “Those baths were rapturous. The incense they burned wasn’t too cloying, different baths had different oils, and the soaps they had out!” He shivered and sent them all a heated look. If Eist didn’t know any better, she would think he was trying to seduce the whole group at once. “You heathens don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “I d-don’t like being st-stared at,” Athar grumbled under his breath.

  Ain just laughed and clapped his friend on the back. “Yeah, they might not be for you then. I can’t imagine you going anywhere where people won’t stare at you, my giant of a friend.”

  “Th-thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Eist closed her book, having reached the end and finding herself no closer to her answer. Her skin was starting to get that itchy feeling it got when she felt like time was running out. It was a feeling she knew well, considering she’d been having it for about two years—ever since that red dragon came crashing down in the middle of their training field.

  They’d been at the academy for two weeks, and down in the library every night for almost that long, yet the Blight hadn’t reared its head again. No one from the House of Auber reappeared dramatically, and there weren’t even any attacks. It seemed so un
like the malevolent thing not to press its advantage, which could only mean one thing.

  It was planning something much worse.

  But what could that be? What could be worse than striking while they were still weak and regrouping from Margaid?

  She didn’t know, and that not knowing made her skin itch even more.

  Her eyes flicked to Athar, who happened to catch her gaze and instantly flushed crimson. He gave her the smallest smile before looking down at his lap.

  He really was the gentleman. He hadn’t said a word about her night of weakness since it happened, and Eist couldn’t be more relieved. She had woken up with the worst, and only, hangover of her life and a pounding headache only to find herself swaddled in several blankets and Athar asleep in his chair, propped up against the wall with her hand still in his. He had even taken the trouble to fill up a water pitcher for her in the middle of the night, which Eist had greedily gulped down before figuring out how to extract herself from the incredibly embarrassing situation she’d gotten herself into.

  Of course, Athar had woken up almost as soon as she set the water down and bade her to stay while he went and got Dille. Dille then fetched clothes from their shared room, returned so Eist could get dressed—which naturally meant Athar excused himself to wait in the hall—and they all strode to a very late breakfast together. No rumors. No shame-walking from his quarters.

  He really had her best interests at heart.

  Fior let out a discontented wuffle from the hall, settling down on his belly right outside of the door so that his nose was just in the room. Eist couldn’t resist her not-so-little guy and pushed away from the table.

  “I’m sorry, Fior. This is so boring for you, isn’t it? You can go play with your other dragon friends outside, ya know. I don’t mind.”

  He shook his head and just wiggled flatter to the ground, just letting her know that he was settling in for the long haul.

  “Aw, there’s my guy. You’re such a good boy, you know that? I don’t think anyone understands how lucky I am.”

  “Considering that whoever laid him must have had to have ancient brindle dragon in their blood, and so did whoever sired them, then yeah, I’d say you’re pretty lucky to end up with a dragon that hasn’t been born in so long that even the council forgot they existed.” Dille said, again without looking up from her book.

  “Right?” Eist agreed. “What are the chances?”

  “Pretty incredible when you add that he’s the only survivor from his entire clutch.” She clicked her tongue. “Of course, that lightning had to hit the rarest, most impossible eggs in the hatchery.”

  Something about what she said made Eist’s spine straighten, and she stood, focusing on her friend to watch her mouth more clearly.

  “Say that again.”

  “What? Of course, the lightning had to hit the rarest eggs in the hatchery?”

  Everyone was looking at her in concern, but Eist didn’t care. Her mind was racing, connecting things that she never thought to connect before.

  “It did.”

  “It did what?” Ain asked in irritation. “This isn’t another magic thing, is it?”

  Eist shook her head. “No, this is a me being stupid thing.” She looked to the shelves frantically. “I need hatchery records. And um…weather, I think. Anomalies. Disasters.”

  “Why?” Dille asked, even though she was already on her feet and following Eist to the appropriate shelves.

  “Of all the times, of all the places that lightning could have struck, it did it in the hatchery, taking out every single brindled egg except for one.”

  “Yes, we just had that discussion.”

  “But does that sound right to you? The hatchery had things in place to protect it from storms, but that single bolt of lightning bypassed them all on a clear night and almost kept an entire dragon race from coming back. What if that’s not the first time that happened? Think about it. I know brindles grow slow, but how could an entire color just poof out of existence? What if…” She caught her breath, pulling out several books and handing them to her friends. “What if they’re being targeted?”

  She could feel the revelation practically rolling off Dille. “You think the Blight wanted to destroy the brindles?”

  “Why would it want to do that?” Ain asked.

  “Exactly,” Eist answered, turning to hand him several scrolls. “That’s what I’d like to find out.”

  “I cannot believe this,” Eist said, looking at the records in front of her. It was in-depth explanations of several battles with the Blight, starting from its third emergence and going all the way to when her parents had sealed it away.

  “What can’t you believe?” Dille asked, looking over her shoulder.

  “Look here,” she said, pointing to the large piece of parchment that they had spread over the table and the hastily-scrawled timeline that Ain had written out about all the freak fires, lightning strikes, floods or anything that had effected the hatchery.

  “We found five disasters that effected the hatchery, counting our lightning strike. Of those five, three of them happen within a month of a Blight emergence attack. And ours coincides with the healer trying to summon the Blight through the veil itself. Or…other things.”

  “That can’t be a coincidence,” Dille breathed.

  “No. It can’t. I know this isn’t the most solid evidence, but this really makes me think that each of these freak incidents weren’t accidents or acts of the gods at all. I think they were concentrated attacks on the brindled dragon clutches that happened to be there.”

  “Okay,” Ain said slowly, rubbing his chin. She appreciated how he questioned everything, making sure that they hadn’t missed some detail or loophole. “I’m willing to believe that maybe this great entity is trying to destroy all brindles. I’ve seen your Fior drive some really powerful people right down into the depths. And, you know, skip time itself. But how were there always two dragons with brindled blood that knew to have a clutch right then and there? And why did they stop after? If they were trying to replenish brindle numbers, why wouldn’t they just…go at it until that worked?”

  “I think it’s part of their magic,” Dille said. “You know how they start to hatch more and more eggs before war is coming? How they just know? They did that with our class, and if it hadn’t been for the lightning, there would be over a hundred and fifty of us right now.”

  Eist nodded. “My grandfather told me it’s something they don’t purposefully do. It’s not that they plan it. It’s just more of them go gravid and seek out partners. It’s probably the same with these dragons who happen to have whatever combination they need to have brindled eggs. The mother and father sense that they have a duty to do something, and once that task is done, the instinct is gone.”

  Ain rubbed his head, and Athar patted his back supportively. “I can’t believe it. This is all starting to make sense. So, let’s say the Blight was systematically killing any brindles and it’s been using natural disasters to cover it. Wouldn’t it need, one: someone on the inside to tell them when there was a brindled clutch laid; and two: a real good reason to do so. I mean, think about it, brindles are strong, and sure, Fior’s done some major damage, but not enough to justify the extermination of his entire species.”

  “I think it has to do with their magic,” Eist said, going back to the shelf. She felt like there was just one more thing they needed to find. Something that would be the final piece to their little puzzle and suddenly everything would make sense. “You didn’t see it, but that battle ended because Fior and I were able to call upon the magic that was in the ground itself. Magic that wasn’t there before Yacrist…” She lost her verbal footing for a moment but quickly tried to recover. “…was lost. I think something about having a full-grown, brindle dragon unleash its power, combined with the Blight taking a physical form, changed something.”

  Ain groaned and pushed the books in front of him aside. “Let me guess. This means more research?”r />
  Eist nodded. “More research. We need to find out what sets brindles apart and what kind of tie they have to the natural magic of the world.”

  “That’s the st-stuff you said we’ve l-lost because of the ban on magic and decrease in dragons living full lives?” Athar asked quietly.

  “Yes. Exactly. The good news is I think I know exactly where the information we need is.” Ain perked up at that. For being such a smart man, he really hated the drudgery of poring over ancient tome and ancient tome.

  “And the bad news?” Dille asked.

  Eist’s stomach twisted as she answered and, no matter how straight she tried to keep her voice, there was still a heartbroken warble in it. “It’s in one of Yacrist’s books.”

  5

  The Bones of a Plan

  Eist looked at Yacrist’s door uneasily. Considering the furor in the city and the academy, none of the workers had cleaned out his dorm. That was what was normally done after a student passed, and in any other instance, his room would be stripped bare. They were lucky, she supposed, but it certainly didn’t feel like luck at all.

  “You don’t have to go in th-th-there,” Athar said, his voice low and comforting.

  “No. I’m the one who knows where he hid them. It’ll just be in and out. We’ll all go in there, you guys will stand by the door, I’ll grab the books, and that will be that.”

  Ain snorted beside her. “Please. I know I like to pretend I’m above all of this, but I’m just gonna say it. Going in there will be weird. It’s gonna hurt.”

  Eist shifted from foot to foot. Sometimes Ain was a little too honest since his about-face those years ago. “Then stand out here then.”

  “And let all of you softies go in there? Absolutely not. Now, do you want to open the door, or do you want me to do it for you?”