by Jada Fisher
Naturally, Fior had a great time as well. His vendor had a brand-new set in from his hunter and trapper daughters, so the little guy really had a variety to choose from. Eist had been saving up from the allowance given to her by the academy since she couldn’t work over the harvest season, so she bought him a particularly large bunch.
Why not, after all? He deserved a treat. Having his human companion injured, then whatever happened with the red dragon, had been particularly stressful for him. Plus, she wasn’t even sure if they’d be able to come to market regularly anymore. Something in her gut was telling her that intense change was right on the horizon, and she couldn’t tell if it was bad or good.
“I’ll hold that for you,” Yacrist said, taking the relatively neat parcel from the vendor and slipping it into one of the packs he brought. Ever since he had become guardian to his needy purple dragon, he had taken to always bringing multiple carrier bags along.
“I can handle it myself,” Eist said tersely, her eyes flicking to the vendor to see if he was watching. But the man had already moved onto the next customer, so she didn’t have to feel too embarrassed.
“Oh, I know you can, but that doesn’t mean you have to. You still get a limp toward the end of the day, so I know that your leg can get to hurting you after a long day. Since this is supposed to be a fun trip, I thought it would be better without all that aching.”
“I do not have a limp!” Eist protested stubbornly.
Surprisingly it was Dille who spoke up. “You do. You need to rest more. The harvest was just barely enough time to heal, and if you always keep pushing yourself as you are, I believe you could develop a permanent hitch to your gait.” Her pretty eyes slid down Eist’s leg. “In fact, right now you’re standing on your non-dominant foot to try to give the other a break. We’ve been walking too fast.
“Please, if Yacrist wants to actually be helpful for once, let him.”
“Actually helpful for once?” he parroted in mock hurt. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
Turning it into a joke allowed Eist to accept the gesture a little easier, and she was sure that Dille knew that. It was just that, even after all their time together, Eist worried about seeming weak.
She couldn’t be weak.
She was already hard of hearing and her blown-out pupil sometimes made it hard to see in particularly bright light. There was enough stacked against her that she needed to be perfect in every other way.
Except…maybe she didn’t have to do that with her friends.
Handing over the bag, they returned to their shopping. Now that Fior was anxiously clambering up Yacrist’s back, trying to nose into the closed bag, they were free to go to the other vendors they liked.
While Dille’s visits with them weren’t as often, Eist still remembered the stall she spent the most time at. Back in the day, it might have been called a witch’s shop, but no one dared say so now. An older woman ran it, just past her childbearing years but not yet in her grey. She had long, red hair that fell in messy, voluminous waves and lavender eyes that probably shouldn’t have been that color but were anyway.
The woman seemed impossibly tall, almost like Athar, and she kept her little stall in a haphazard sort of order. There were herbs and crystals, pretty stones and little glass creations. There were handkerchiefs with pretty stitching on them that seemed important, and little vials of liquid that supposedly had the cure for several small things.
And then the runes.
Some made of bone, some of obsidian, and some of a swirling green and white stone Eist wasn’t familiar with. The girl had seen her friend hover over these runes quite often, her slender fingers gently gliding over everything she was allowed to hold. Eist didn’t really understand why her friend liked these things so much, but she was just glad that she found something she liked.
“Ah, hello my young warriors, and her royal highness.” The woman stood as she saw them, her shadow washing over them like a soothing form of a greeting. She had taken to calling Dille royalty since the moment she had first seen her, telling her she had the profile of nobility and the spirit of ancient kings in her. At first, they had all thought it was just her way of trying to get a sale, but the woman didn’t mind when they didn’t buy anything. It seemed she really did find the thin, dark-skinned girl to be just as queenly as she said. “I haven’t seen ye in a while.”
“We’ve been home for the harvest,” Dille answered with a small smile.
“Ah, I see.” Her lavender eyes slid to Eist, and they shuttled up and down her body. “You have been injured, warrior.”
She had also taken to calling Yacrist and Eist warriors. While certainly not as prestigious as royalty, Eist definitely liked the pet name. It made her feel strong, and like someone wise was recognizing her ability.
“There was an…accident.”
The woman frowned. “All three of your faces do not say accident. Someone hurt you purposefully.” Eist was fairly certain, now that she had read the book and knew that magic was indeed real and not just beholden to dragons, that this woman was indeed a real witch. “And something else has changed…” She tilted her head, her lavender eyes sweeping over all of them now. “You warriors see what you’re not supposed to.”
“What do you mean?” Dille asked, looking up from the new runes the woman had laid out. She didn’t know about the book, and Eist didn’t like the idea that she was out of the loop, but this was not the right time or place to tell her.
“I…” The woman’s voice caught, and she looked away, her brow troubled. “I… Do you feel a storm coming?” she asked, her eyes in the distance.
The three exchanged looks before shaking their heads.
“Ah. I… I think I feel a rain coming on. I think I’ve made enough for the day and should pack it in before I’m drenched.” She indeed started to do that, much to the surprise of the trio, who watched her sudden about-face with curiosity.
Before they wandered off, however, the woman spoke once more.
“Your highness!”
Dille turned to look at her and saw that the woman was holding out a small crystal pendant, sharp at the bottom with twine wrapped in a very specific pattern at that top.
“This is for you on your travels. Everyone knows a queen needs protection.”
And then she went right back to her hasty packing, leaving the three to wander away wondering what had happened.
“That was a bit odd,” was all Dille said, although Eist didn’t miss how she slipped the thing into her bindings under her shirt. Normally the girl would have never been able to afford such a pretty thing, so it was nice to see her get something out of the bizarre experience.
They continued on, their mood quickly returning to normal as they went to get food next, Eist’s belly grumbling from skipping breakfast. But as they walked, Fior started to misbehave. He stopped trying to get into Yacrist’s pack and instead dropped to the ground, scuttling in anxious circles around them. It was almost like he was trying to herd them, and he almost tripped her twice.
“Fior,” Eist tried to say authoritatively. “Stop that. You’re being a walking hazard.”
He stopped circling and they went to move on, only for him to grab onto her booted heel and yank so hard backwards that this time, she did fall.
“Fior!” she snapped, now actually angry. “Why are you being such a bra—”
Her reprimand faded when she saw her little boy. His eyes were narrowed and sharp. She hadn’t seen them like that since the attack, when he had tried so hard to defend her. His dark, brindled mouth was pulled back into a snarl, showing pink gums and the tiniest rows of ivory teeth.
She knew better than to ever ignore a message like that.
“Uh, guys, I think Fior needs to get away from the crowd for a little while. Something is bugging him.”
“Maybe it’s that storm Abremma mentioned.”
“Who’s Abremma?” Yacrist asked, leaning down to extract Fior from Eist’s foot and then han
ding the violently-wriggling dragon over to her.
“The woman at the herbal stand we like.”
“You know her name?”
“You don’t?”
As much as Eist normally loved their banter, she didn’t have time for it. She quickly got up and started heading away from the crowd. Somewhere that she and Fior could breathe.
He didn’t seem to be calming as she increased her pace, his shovel-like head turning this way and that like he was looking for something. Eist was so engrossed in his actions, and if they were getting worse or better, that she didn’t even look up until Yacrist grabbed her shoulder and roughly yanked her backwards.
“What are you—” she started to hiss at Yacrist but stopped when she noticed that they weren’t alone.
In fact, it seemed that they were surrounded.
10
Piggybacking on a Nightmare
There were seven burly men, all dressed in bits of armor and thick clothing, and all with weapons at their sides. They were in no way guards, or military men, which left thieves, mercenaries, assassins, brigands or bandits.
None of those boded well for them.
“Alright, easy there,” Yacrist said, his hand leaving Eist’s shoulder and slowly going for one of his packs. “I’m reaching for my coin purse now. I’ve got a few gold crowns in there, that should help you live large for a couple weeks, right?”
Gold crowns?! Eist had only held one of those once in her life, and that was when she was burying it at her parent’s funeral. Since there were no bodies to lay at rest, the academy had provided her family with a coin forged from gold melted by the white dragon herself. To think that Yacrist had several of them was mindboggling!
And yet it certainly wasn’t the time to focus on money. Not when there were seven enemies so close that she could smell hints of whatever game they had last eaten.
But as Yacrist stepped forward, his purse held aloft and non-threateningly in his hand, the closest brigand knocked it to the side and dove forward.
That seemed to be some sort of signal, because suddenly all the men were swarming forward.
Eist dropped into a fighter’s stance, although she knew she didn’t stand a chance, but instead of attacking her, two of them dove straight for Fior.
“No!”
And suddenly she knew exactly what was happening.
They were trying to take Fior.
It was like the healer situation all over again. Her blood started rushing through her, her heart beating so hard that she was sure they could hear it. Anger, and the need to protect him. She couldn’t let them take him. She wouldn’t be alive without him.
She’d die before she let them take him from her.
Now it was her turn to tackle someone, and she did it with all of the momentum that she could build up, her shoulder slamming into his spine. He let out a gasp and rolled away, but another kicked her right in the ribs, sending her rolling across the ground.
But the rest of her friends seemed to understand what was going on as well and set upon the ones trying to wrestle Fior into submission. Dille rushed forward, grabbing the hair of one of the men with both of her hands and twisting as hard as she could while Yacrist was swinging his pack of bones around as a bludgeon.
As for Verelda and Alynbach, they were going at the men’s legs, biting and yanking and snarling in a way that was actually quite intimidating.
All of that washed over Eist, but she didn’t let it distract her. She lurched to her feet and ran at one of the men trying to wrap a chain around Fior, bringing her leg up right into his chin.
He tumbled backward, blood leaking from his mouth, but two more men replaced him. Eist realized that more were joining the fray, and now there were ten of them—with only two being down and out for the count.
Eight full-grown men, and six younglings—three humans and three dragons. It wasn’t nearly a fair fight, but Eist didn’t let that stop her.
She grabbed one man’s armor and yanked it as hard as she could, kicking her foot toward where his legs joined.
She missed, but it was certainly enough to get his attention, and he flung himself backward. Eist barely managed to dive out of the way, but then the man righted himself and she found herself face to face with a fighter who was twice her size and double her height.
He threw a punch and she ducked under, aiming her own blow toward his armpit. But before it landed, something snapped into the side of her head and the world spun.
Pain bloomed like a cloud in her head and she couldn’t see or really comprehend anything for a moment. She was faintly aware that she collided with the ground, but it took several moments for her vision to clear.
When it did, she felt something warm and wet down the side of her head. Blood? Probably blood, but she didn’t have time to clear it. Because the first thing she saw was three men hauling Fior off, chains wrapped around his writhing, fighting form.
No!
No!
She couldn’t let them be separated. She knew that if she let him out of her sight that she would never see him again. It was clear that these men didn’t understand that they were a package deal.
Picking herself up off the ground, she ran forward with all of her strength, swinging her arms and pushing herself to her absolute limit. She closed in on them just as a wagon came thundering out of the trees that led toward the forest.
One of them flung Fior into the wagon as it pulled to a stop before getting in himself. She knew that she had to be in that wagon. She had to.
The next guy got in and the wagon started to roll forward again. Eist was almost there, and she could hear her friends frantically calling as they chased after her, but she didn’t pay them any mind.
Her whole world was Fior. All that mattered was getting to him.
The third of the men that was holding Fior got in, and for a moment, her stomach dropped, but then she noted the two that they had injured had picked themselves up and were also rushing for the wagon.
Tucking her head down, she forced herself to go even faster, her feet to hit the ground even harder. She had to reach the wagon before they did.
And she was close, she was oh so close, but with the wagon moving away from her, the recently-recovered bandits were at a better angle. She was going to lose them.
No! She couldn’t. It was either die or get into that wagon.
A high-pitched keening filled the air. She didn’t need to be close to have it strike her right down to her core. She knew Fior’s crying for her when she heard it.
That gave her a final burst of strength, and she was almost to the wagon. She was slowing though, and she could feel her limbs turning to lead. The last of the bandits jumped onto the back of it, his thick, calloused hands grabbing the wooden back, and Eist knew what she had to do.
With all of the energy she had left in her body, she pushed off the ground, flying through the air and just barely managing to grab onto the back of the man’s leather jerkin.
Her fingers bit into the cloth and she prayed he didn’t fall off as her full weight hit him. Holding on for dear life, she pulled upward until her legs were able to wrap around his hips, effectively sealing her to him.
“Get her off me!” the man cried, unable to reach behind him while he was holding onto the wagon. Someone inside punched for her, but Eist moved her head to the side and took it on the shoulder instead.
“Blast it, just pull them both in. We’ll deal with her later!”
Sure enough, more hands gripped them and hauled her into the wagon, viciously prying her off. She was thrown toward the back, and yet relief filled her when she heard Fior whine beside where she landed.
They were together.
She glanced back the way she had come, seeing the men glaring at her, and behind them, her friends still trying to run toward the wagon. Other people had finally noticed what was going on as well and were running too, but just like in the healer’s hall, they weren’t going to get there in time.
&
nbsp; Bit by bit, she saw her friends grow smaller in the distance until something hit her head again and she slid into darkness.
11
One’s Company, Fifteen’s a Small Army
Eist came to in waves, as if her consciousness was trying to abandon her and all the stress she caused. With each new surge of reality, she became a little more aware of just how much her body hurt and her head thundered like the sky in a storm.
She didn’t know how long it took for her to open her eyes, but it certainly was a while, and it took even longer for her to actually see. But slowly, the swirling and foggy world solidified enough for her to know that she was in some sort of camp in the middle of the woods.
Her face was pressed into the cool earth, grass and leaves providing a thin blanket to protect her from the dampness of the dirt. Her eyes slowly took in as much as they could without her turning her head only to make out more trees and a group of four horses.
Four?
Hmm. That was interesting. The wagon had only had two, which meant that the camp she was in contained more than just whoever was in the wagon. That didn’t bode well for her, and she guessed it was time to check on her enemies.
But when she went to sit up, she found that she couldn’t. Wiggling a bit, she realized that her arms and feet were bound, with her hands tightly trussed up behind her. Smart. That way she couldn’t even chew on the ropes and get her hands loose.
It seemed that she clearly wasn’t the first captive that these men had dealt with, which didn’t bode well for her either. Then again, since they were clearly in the dragon-taking business, they were most likely used to more challenging prey.
Fior!
As if he could hear her mind calling out for him, she heard a whimper somewhere by her feet. He was worried, and he was scared, and her entire body called out that she needed to hold him.
Eist rolled onto her back, ignoring the protest of her hands and forcing herself to rock forward. She finally managed to get into an upright position, and her whole heart squeezed tightly. She wanted to reach out for him, to pet him, but the only thing she could do was weakly rise to her knees and lean to rest her cheek on his head.