by Jada Fisher
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?”
Only Ain could sweetly offer to protect her while sounding so utterly annoyed. “I’ll do it,” she answered, hand going to the door.
Then she was pushing it open and stepping into a place that had once been a source of comfort to her. It was anything but now.
It still smelled like him, pine and musk and masculinity. His fine clothes still sat in his open chest, and she could see his studies still sitting wide open on his desk.
By the Three. It was too much. Too much. She stood there, watching as memories played over in her head. She could see the two of them sitting on his bed, reading. She could remember them both tucked into his bed, the cots pressed together. She could remember sitting on his floor with Dille as they all studied. They all played inside of her head, one after the other, and she was just swamped with so much loss.
“Hey, are you alright?” Dille asked, a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You can just tell me where they are.”
Eist shook her head. “Those books are what opened the door to allow Yacrist to be possessed. I don’t want any of you to touch them.”
“Seems kind of counterintuitive that we’re letting our possible savior handle them then,” Ain groused.
Eist gave him a look. “I’m not a savior. And I figure I’ve already handled them pretty extensively, so I might as well be the one to risk it.” She couldn’t linger in the place much longer. It was getting to her. His presence was too thick, too there, reminding her of how badly she had messed up.
Striding forward, she went to his chest. She knew it was full of all of his fine, fine clothes and his keepsakes, but that wasn’t what she was interested in. Pushing it to the side, she looked for the floorboard that she had come to know quite well. There was the tiniest of cracks that she could just fit one of her pinkies into, and she wiggled it into the gap.
With a bit of a grunt, she hauled the small board up and, sure enough, there were both of the books in the gap. Dread flooded her stomach as she touched them, feeling almost slimy as she clutched them to her chest and put everything back in order.
When she finally got to her feet, she looked to the remainder of her friends with determination. “I’m ready,” she said, feeling like her throat was full of gravel.
“Thank the Three,” Dille said. “Let’s get out of here. I feel like we’re trampling on the dead.”
But Yacrist wasn’t dead, she wanted to argue. Instead, she just hurried past them and back down to the library. For a moment, she was tempted to take the books to her room, but she realized she wanted them nowhere near her sleeping form.
Her nightmares were bad enough as it was.
And it was in the destruction of their first wall that the tribes all recognized the daughter of all dragons spoke true—
No. She didn’t need that. Probably an interesting factoid about Arwylln, but not relevant to what Eist wanted.
As the spirits of the old world faded, the Three grew in power. Young entities, and unattached to the dragons from whom the magic of the world flowed, the trinity learned all that they could of the strange new world they had won. They built up defenses, hoping to save these new people from the darkness that had destroyed their own world.
Also interesting, but also not relevant. She didn’t understand how she had started at the section all about the creation of the first dragons, but none of it went into the abilities of the brindled dragon.
“I thought you said that you already knew where the section was,” Ain said, peeling an apple with his dagger.
“I thought I did too,” Eist snapped, turning another page. Now she was just in a part about how Arwylln formed the first witches’ coven and how they united to stop the second emergence. Apparently— “Wait a minute,” Eist said, leaning forward. “Um… Dille?”
“Yes?” the woman asked, looking up from whatever she was hastily writing.
“I, uh, I think you’re in this.”
“What?” she asked, shooting to her feet and walking over. “Me?”
Eist pointed to a beautifully-painted illustration that took up two of the large pages, and then flipped the page to another paragraph.
“It was this coven that rode atop the dappled beasts and formed a cage of magic around the Blight. For their dragons worked not with fire, nor water, nor wind, nor earth, but rather with sound itself. The might of their roar could drown out the most powerful spell, rending powerful words to discordant syllables, creating their own incantations.”
“I… I don’t remember that,” Dille said, flipping back to the previous page to look at the illustration again. Sure enough, there was a woman atop what could only be Fior, dressed from head to toe in enchanted armor and shouting mightily.
Eist picked up the book and brought it over to Fior. “Hey, do you recognize this?”
He wuffled, sticking his nose right up to the page before licking it.
“Oh, geez, Fior, no.” She took it from him and quickly wiped it off before his spit could set into the page or make the ink run. “I’ll take that as you don’t remember. Thanks.”
“Does that mean this hasn’t happened yet? Or at least, hasn’t for you?”
“I hope not,” Dille said with a sigh. “I’m kind of tired of time-jumping. My head still feels scrambled from the last time. I still get new memories of your parents every so often. They’re all out of place and jumbled, but they’re, uh…interesting.”
Eist looked over at her friend. “I’d really like to ask you more about that, but we really don’t have the time.”
“Yeah, time does seem to be the imperative thing here,” Dille said before continuing. “These witches surrounded the Blight, with riders and warriors alike, and the being was locked within the throes of their trap, a spinning pool of light opened above them. It was in that circle that two of their number were pulled into the sky, and their power waned almost to the point of breaking.
“It was only with Arwylln’s summoning of both the King and Queen of the Dragons that they were able to shift their plan from one of destruction to one of banishment. As long as the magic of their world persisted, the Blight would be locked within its cage.” Dille stopped reading, her brow furrowing. “That was me. I disappeared in the middle of battle and I almost ruined everything. Why don’t I remember that? You’d think it’d be something I remembered.”
“Uh, I could be wrong, but didn’t it say two of your number? Does that mean there’s someone else hurtling through time with a brindled dragon?” Ain asked. “Are they just gonna pop out when no one’s expecting them?”
“Th-that’s a fair question,” Athar added. “And I know you have gaps, Dille, and th-things are muddled, but didn’t you s-say that you opened a portal yours-self in your coven?”
Dille frowned at that. “You’re right. I do specifically have that memory.”
“Then who are the two that disappeared?”
“I don’t know,” Eist answered. “But I’d like to.”
“So
, what do we do then?” Ain asked. “I get it, your dragon is the only thing that might be able to stop our great and powerful enemy, but clearly there’s a number issue here and we just don’t have them. Your big boy isn’t gonna be enough.”
Eist nodded. “You’re right. But if we need more brindled dragons to defeat the Blight and get Yacrist back, then we should do exactly that.”
“Huh, did I miss some part where they suddenly weren’t extinct anymore?”
Eist shook her head, feeling an impossible, insane, idiotic plan start to form in her head. “Yeah, about that. I was thinking. What if we…changed that?”
6
Thinking Backwards
“Grandfather!” Eist blurted, erupting into the hatchery common area with her friends in tow. The older man looked up at her with surprise, but his shocked expression quickly shifted to one of pleasure.
“Eist, my girl. I haven’t seen you in so long!” He stood, arms open, and she didn’t hesitate. Rushing forward, she hugged him with all she had. He was still all sinew and old age, his form familiar and kept healthy by the dragons around him. By the Three, he was old. “I sent you a few ravens while you were on the battlefield, but I was told you are quite difficult to reach.”
“I was working on some, uh, special assignments.”
He smiled knowingly at that. “ Uh-oh. I didn’t love your mother and father with all my heart only to not know what that means. So, is this the part where I get to stop pretending we don’t know what magic is?”
Eist’s jaw dropped just a little. “You’ve known this whole time?”
“I had hoped you would be spared the burden my daughter had, but once you saved me from my sleep, I had an idea. And then, after your second eye changed, I knew for certain.”
“Huh,” Eist said, untangling herself from him and looking over his wizened face. He was still the loving, if not stern, man that she had always known. And yet, there was a melancholy sort of understanding in his gaze. She realized that he had watched his daughter grapple with impossible odds and eventually succumb to them, and now he was going to have to do the same with his granddaughter. What a cruel fate to have been handed to him. No wonder he had been so reluctant to let Eist become a dragon rider, and how intensely he had prepared her once he knew that resistance was futile.
“Well, I suppose that helps us skip a whole chunk of our explanation.”
“Explanation?” he asked, going over to the firepit that took up the entire center of the room, a stone circle built up several feet. There she saw a pot hanging above the flames. “This sounds like something that would do well with tea. Are any of you thirsty?”
“Are you really asking us about refreshments when we came here to talk about the end of the world?” Ain asked dryly.
“Oh, so something serious then. Definitely a time for tea.”
Before Eist really came to grips with the personal revelation that had just happened, they were all seated in chairs and sipping her grandfather’s brew. Tea wasn’t that popular in Rothaiche M’or, but he’d never given up that part of his Baldred heritage. What he had made for them was strong, and earthy, and it made Eist feel warm. Not too unlike the mead she had drank way too much of, but it felt more real and less fleeting. Like it would protect and fortify her rather than just filling her with a false sort of serenity.
Or maybe it was just tea.
They explained to her grandfather about what had happened with the Blight so far, and Farmad. Even Valatos. And then, although it hurt something terribly, she told him the truth about Yacrist. To his credit, he stayed quiet during the explanations, only opening his mouth to ask questions and clarify things he didn’t quite understand.
By the time she was finished with the outline of it all, her tea was gone, and her mouth was dry again. Athar dutifully handed her his tankard the second time she picked up her empty glass, and she sent him a grateful smile.
“So,” she continued after she chugged down more of the calming brew. “We thought that Dille would use her portal magic to send us to times before previous disasters where we could grab a couple of the eggs and hide them somewhere in the past. Then, once they’re hatched, we bring them all here to fight with us.”
“One issue with that,” Grandfather said, looking like he was struggling to keep his expression calm and collected. “Assuming that this time-hopping happens like it’s supposed to, and that you somehow manage to get back without getting lost as your friend did for all those decades, who’s going to lead these brindled dragons?”
“I don’t follow.”
He shifted in his seat, reaching to pour himself more tea, which he then sipped at length. Eist could feel her friends’ impatience growing, but her grandfather had always been this way. He liked to think before he spoke, lest he had to take something back.
“Fior has you. He had Dille for a short time. Or a long time, I suppose, depending on how you look at it. What I want to know is, if you hide all of these dragons away to protect them, then who will care for them? Who will raise them? And when it comes time to bring them here, will you bring all of their riders too? Just pluck dozens, or maybe even hundreds, of humans out of their times and homes and thrust them into a battle here? And when all of this is over and done, if we are victorious, will you be able to send them back? You’re talking about permanently altering the paths and destinies, the histories even, of people you’ve never met.”
Eist went pale. She hadn’t thought about that at all. “Could we just arrive in their time and make sure they make it through their hatching and adoption?”
“We could,” Dille said, her tone sounding just as uncertain as Eist’s. “But what’s to stop the Blight from targeting them for elimination the same way it targeted Fior, and then you? We’d be killing children.”
“And it’s not like you can hang around them and make sure they get through the academy just fine. I know Dille already lived for decades in other lives, but I don’t think that’s something we should try twice. What if it goes wrong?” Ain pointed out.
“He has a point,” Dille agreed. “Ugh, this is such a mess. Are we crazy for even trying this?”
“It’s insane, that’s for certain,” Eist said, gathering herself. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not possible. There’s just…a step that we’re missing.” She looked to her grandfather. “Any token wisdom to throw in here?”
He smiled at that, teeth still white and whole. “You know, I just might. There was a caretaker back when I first started here, all those hundreds of some-odd years ago. She was a real spitfire, but a bit weird. She lived off-academy, and everyone always said she had a secret.”
“Great. More secrets. And this has what to do with us?” Even after all these years, Ain really hadn’t developed many manners.
“Well, I’m pretty sure her secret was a dragon.”
Eist’s eyes went wide again. “Why would a hatchery worker have a dragon?” While the people who helped tend to the eggs and help distressed dragons were granted the long, long lives that came from working with the enchanted beings, that didn’t mean they could just ride around on the magnificent beasts.
“Because I think she might have been a dragon rider. Just one long forgotten. If there’s anyone who would know about raising and hiding a dragon, it’d be her. I think I only saw a glint of a scale once when I went to visit her home in the mountains, and that was the only evidence I ever found.”
“Alright, so we go to the past, before the…”
“Earthquake,” Athar supplied quickly.
“Right. Before the earthquake. We find this woman, talk to her, and see if she’s willing to help raise some brindled eggs, then actually save the brindle eggs, and then…” Eist paused. “How do I get further into the past? And how do I get back? I could try to learn Dille’s portal magic, but I don’t know how reliable that will be. And if I’m going to be hurtling myself through time… Well, I’d like it to be reliable.”
“I think that maybe I migh
t be able to link myself to Fior,” Dille said nervously, rubbing her face in her long, slender hands.
“Wait, that’s a thing you can do?” Ain asked, head perking up.
“I…think so?”
Eist’s stomach flipped. “I don’t know if I want my fate relying on an ‘I think so’.”
“Well, it’s something we used to do back in the first great war. We were able to communicate from days away. But I’ve never tried it through time. And I think we can all agree that moving through time is a lot different than moving over distance.”
“Eist, do you really want to risk your life over so many uncertainties?” Grandfather asked, looking at her sternly.
“Do you see any other options?” Eist asked. “We have to awaken more of the magic that’s within the earth, while also holding off the Blight, and I don’t see a way to do that without these dragons.”
“I still want to know who those two people who disappeared from the battle were. You know, the one that might have ended the Blight once and for all,” Ain said, cleaning underneath his nails with his knife.
“That can wait until after we save the entire world.”
“You mean if we save the entire world.”
“No, I most emphatically do not.”
Grandfather cut in on their banter, setting his tea down with authority. “If you are absolutely sure that this is the only way to kill that thing once and for all, then I’ll tell you every single thing that I can about the hatchery and everyone I’ve ever known. But, Eist, I need you to promise me that you won’t do this insane hopping through magic portals idea unless you’re as sure as you can possibly be that you’ve taken every precaution to come home to me.”
His hand stretched out on that last part, tanned and leathered and dappled with light age-spots. His fingers wrapped around hers, and it was just like she was a little girl again.
Goodness, she missed these moments with the last remaining member of her family. She had let the fight in front of her steal too much precious time away from him. There was no making that up. Those moments were gone forever.