by Jada Fisher
Or at least she thought it was a town. She couldn’t be quite sure.
Someone ran to her, asking if she was alright. She wanted to tell them that was a stupid question considering there was a literal arrow poking through her body, but the horse collapsed before she could get a single word out.
Huh, the fellow really had pushed himself to get her to safety. She would have to thank him. Not that he would understand her, and not that she would live till morning, but still… It would be the polite thing to do.
She let out the tiniest of chuckles at the idea that her last thoughts would be about manners with a horse, and it was in that breath that she slipped into the dark.
12
Out of the Cauldron and into the Fire
Eist was aware that she was moving as she came to, although that was about the only thing she was aware of. Reality was still wobbling and bobbling this way and that, not making any sense as she rumbled along.
“Oh, she’s awake!”
Eist blearily looked up to see what might have been a familiar face over her, but it was too slippery and mired with strange colors.
“You’re back at the academy now, Lady W’allenhaus,” the other face said. They sounded familiar. Did she know them too? “You just arrived, and you’re being taken to the healers. Do you remember what happened?”
Eist wanted to shake her head, but she couldn’t really move. She couldn’t really do much of anything, except stare up at them while sweat ran down her face and her tongue flopped uselessly in her mouth.
It seemed an eternity until they had her somewhere else and were gently laying the gurney she was laid across onto a cot. The soft bed felt nice under her, but she realized that she shouldn’t be able to lay down at all with an arrow in her.
Looking down, she saw no arrow, only haphazard bandages and blood-soaked cloth under that pressed to where the bolt once had been.
One of the faces seemed to understand the question she couldn’t say. “They told us when you and the horse collapsed, the fall pushed the back of the shaft through you. It’s too bad, because that’s what caused you to lose a lot of blood.”
“And she’s still bleeding,” someone else said. “Why is she still bleeding?”
Because a dragon licked it. Obviously.
Wait.
Dragon?
Fior!
Where was Fior!?
Her eyes shot opened and she tried to reach up, but instead her whole body just shook, and something filled her mouth. The faces grew alarmed, and more faced joined them, until finally Eist slid back right where she was before.
Huh, this was turning out far too similar to the last year for her taste. And the academy had only just started. How was she going to get to her classes?
And where was her dragon?!
The next time Eist rolled to consciousness, she heard voices. She couldn’t open her eyes, so she just hung there, pain enveloping every one of her senses.
“I don’t understand. We’ve cleaned the wound, packed it, but her fever is going up and her blood is…turning.”
“There has to be an infection somewhere in there. Did you check her head? She had bruising and cuts up there, and one of her friends told us that she took a direct blow there.”
“They’re angry, but no puss, no indications if infection.”
“We have to have missed something. What of her dragon?”
Dragon? Fior?
“He’s recovered. He never leaves her side.”
Recovered? Had he been hurt?
“Good. Let’s hope he doesn’t have to.”
“…you think it’s that bad?”
“If we don’t get the fever in check, it will be.”
“Where is she?!”
That voice she knew, it was Yacrist, but why did he sound so angry?
“You really can’t be in here!” someone else said. They sounded familiar. Were they important? Eist couldn’t tell. Her head hurt.
No. Wait. Everything hurt.
“I don’t care! Let me see her!”
Suddenly his face was over hers, but it looked like it was melting down into his neck. Did he know how silly he looked? He looked silly. Strange boy.
“Eist, can you hear me?” he asked, his fingers roving over her face. He opened one eye, then the other, which made her flinch away, but he held her in place with the other hand.
Then he opened her mouth, which felt like it was pasted shut. When he finally pried it open, the cool air felt nice against it, but she could tell he was recoiling.
Oh.
Did she have bad breath?
She thought she had an excuse for it, the situation being what it was. He didn’t have to be so rude about it.
“I know what this is,” he whispered, his eyes going wide. Or they seemed to go wide. Like really wide. Did he know that he looked silly?
Eist sighed and wanted to slip back into sleep. Nothing made sense and thinking was so incredibly hard already.
“I know what this is!” he cried, louder. Suddenly he was gone, and Eist heard more commotion.
“Sir, unhand me!”
“Listen! I know what’s going on! She doesn’t have an infection, she’s being poisoned!”
“I know you’re her friend, but she isn’t showing any symptoms of poiso—”
“That’s because you’re not looking for the right poison! I read about this! That arrow she was shot with had water of the blood moon on it, and I would guarantee my life on it.”
“That’s a spell,” the healer murmured, and Eist felt herself quickly fading into blackness again. “That’s not real.”
“I assure you, it’s real and it’s killing my friend! So, you better do something about it or I will!”
“Young Lord, I know that your father is the Lord of the House, but I think that perhaps you should leave and think about what that means when you interact with public servants.”
Ugh. They sounded annoying. Why was everyone so annoying?
Eist didn’t know, and she was pulled down again.
As she pushed up toward consciousness again, Eist knew it would be her last time. She couldn’t say how, she only knew that it was.
She was going to die.
The tiniest warble drew her attention, and she felt a familiar head nudge against her. She couldn’t open her eyes to look at him, or move her hand to pet him, but she knew that it was her little dragon.
But there was something else there, and she heard another familiar voice.
“Don’t worry.” It was Yacrist. Was he alone? Why was everything so quiet? Was it night? “I’ve got you. Here, open your mouth, love.”
She couldn’t, and she felt his fingers gently pry her cracked lips apart. Then something poured into her mouth and she nearly choked on it.
“Shh, shh, I know it tastes foul, but you have to get it down.”
Foul was an understatement. Eist had been dying for goodness knows how long and she’d rather go back to that than drink anymore of the rancid concoction.
“Fior, I need you now. Can I have your tail?”
Eist couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard a knife being drawn, then a sharp whimper from Fior. She tried to flick her eyes open in alarm, but when she did, she still couldn’t really see anything.
The bandages were being pulled away from her wound and then more liquid was poured into it, then something else shoved inside. It felt like someone was ripping her whole ribcage out and she lurched upwards, gasping and clawing.
“I know! I know! I’m sorry, but I have to do this. I have to save you, okay? You’re not allowed to leave us, Eist!”
Yacrist pushed her back down and quickly began muttering things in a language she didn’t understand. Her whole body seized as he did, whipping around the cot weakly. She felt like she was on fire, and something was harshly yanking her limbs in all sorts of directions. Why was he doing this to her? She was already dying, so why was he trying to kill her?!
“What are yo
u doing with her?”
There were more voices, then running feet, and then she was vaguely aware that someone was yanking Yacrist away. But he fought to stay at her side, and both Alynbach and Fior backed him up.
All Eist could do was writhe, her mind scattering. Her vision was only coming back to her in flashes.
Yacrist fell against her bed, something in his hand that he pushed into her mouth before pressing against the bottom of her jaw. Eist’s jaw closed despite herself, and it was some sort of bitter herb.
The moments passed as more voices joined and tried to pull Yacrist away, but as they did, Eist felt herself relax. Her seizing stopped, her muscles relaxed, and after a long bit, she was able to chew.
Slowly her teeth ground together, and the more of the herb that mixed with her saliva, the more she felt the agony consuming her fade.
“I need to finish curing her! There’s just one more step!”
“You need to get control of yourself now, young Master!”
“Gilcrest, look!”
The sounds of scuffle stopped and Eist felt as if all of the eyes were on her. She still couldn’t see entirely, but her vision was slowly coming back at the edges. Her body was going limp, while the sweat seemed to dry from her form.
“What in the Storm’s name is that?!”
“That’s the poison!” Yacrist snapped. He must have wrestled from their grasp because she could hear him running toward her. How loud were all of these people being that she could hear them? Especially considering that she no doubt had some more damage from Fior’s bellow.
“Eist, your finger is going to have a bit of a poke and burn, but I promise that it’s worth it.”
Sure enough, she felt a blade on the pointer finger of her right hand, then the digit was engulfed by a flame. There was more sizzling and hissing, then finally, Eist fell into a peaceful slumber.
13
Dark Horizons
This time, when Eist awoke, she didn’t feel gripped by death or rotting from the inside out. She also could think clearly for the first time in what felt like an eternity. And the first thing she realized was that, while she was indeed quite sore, she was mostly incredibly thirsty.
Her eyes flicked open and she saw her grandfather, Dille, Yacrist, Athar, and Ain all there, sitting around her bed in almost a perfect mirror of the end of last year. Fior was at her legs, curled into a weary-looking ball with a bandage around part of his tail. She really needed to stop doing this whole injured thing, otherwise people would start to think she was doing it intentionally.
“Eist?”
Naturally it was Yacrist who spotted her first. Her eyes slowly slid to him, and she noticed he had a black eye and a busted lip. Were they from the bandit fight? Or had he procured those trying to heal her?
“Water,” she rasped, her tongue feeling like rock in her dry cavern of a mouth.
He scrambled to get her some, and suddenly everyone was roused from their sort of half-slumber. Her grandfather’s hands wrapped around hers and he peppered her fingers with kisses.
“Oh, my little girl. I really thought you were going to leave this old man all alone.”
She tried to rasp an answer, but her body refused. Thankfully, Yacrist gently helped her up and held a tankard up to her mouth.
Eist tried to chug it down gratefully, but he wouldn’t allow more than sips to trickle into her mouth at a time. She supposed she should be grateful he wasn’t letting her make herself sick, but she was just so thirsty!
But Yacrist had patience where she did not, and he continued to hold the tankard as long as she needed, which was quite a while. When she eventually was done, he set the cup aside and tried to lay her back down.
“No,” she whispered, barely able to hear herself. “I’ve had enough of that. I want to sit up.”
Dille rushed forward, arranging pillows behind Eist so she could lean in an upright position. Yacrist was still incredibly careful as he set her against them, his hands strong and comforting against her. Normally, she wasn’t much for being touched, but considering everything he had done to save her life, it made her feel a bit safer.
“So…” she muttered to all the faces once she was settled. It was strange to feel like the center of a theater production, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. At least with the healer incident, she was drugged up. Now, she mostly felt clearheaded and entirely aware of the situation.
“You just had to throw yourself into the wagon, didn’t you?” Dille said finally.
That seemed to break the uncertain tension, and they shared a weak sort of laugh. Eist couldn’t help but glance at Ain and Athar, the people she knew the least in the room, and saw that they mostly looked relieved. She should get to know them a little better, perhaps. If there was one thing this whole experience taught her it was that she needed more allies, because she had just made one powerful enemy.
“They were going to take Fior,” she answered matter-of-factly. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“Uh-huh, sure you didn’t. You just had to be the natural-born hero that you’ve always insisted on being,” her grandfather groused. “You’re lucky you’re hurt, or I might tan your hide myself for being reckless.”
“You haven’t tanned my hide since I was seven and I insisted on trying to play with logs in the fire.”
“That doesn’t mean I won’t now.”
“Uh-huh. Go ahead if you want to. I was hurt much worse the last time I was here. Turns out being poisoned has a really quick recovery time.”
“Oh…” It was Yacrist who murmured that in surprise. “You heard all of that?”
Eist nodded. “Probably not all, but enough. I guess it’s a good thing that you didn’t listen to me.”
“Didn’t listen to you about what?” Grandfather asked.
“Have none of you n-n-noticed her eyes?”
It was Athar’s low voice that cut through the relieved banter and they all fell silent. Eist looked to him uncertainly, and she flushed as she felt everyone’s gaze on her.
“Oh…” Yacrist breathed again before standing. “I’ll get a healer.”
“What’s going on?” Eist asked, panic rising in her for the first time since she had awakened. “What’s wrong with my eyes?!”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” her grandfather said, holding her hands once more. “What’s important is that you’re alive and you and your dragon are both here.”
That only made her panic worse, as did the healer’s expression as they approached.
“Oh!”
“Would everyone stop saying that and just tell me what is going on!?”
“Your witch’s eye,” Dille murmured as if the words didn’t want to come out of their mouth.
“What about it?”
“You’ve got two of them now.”
“What?” No! That wasn’t possible! “Get me a looking glass! Now!”
Her smallest friend rushed off, coming back a few moments later with an ornate looking glass. Eist grabbed one of the candles from her bedside and peered into the thing, her breath catching as she did.
Both of her pupils were blown so wide that there was barely any color left, leaving her looking like an owl, or perpetually terrified. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but Eist found herself close to tears that there was yet one more thing setting her apart.
“It might have been the blow to the side of the head,” the healer said just loud enough for Eist to hear. “Such injuries have been known to cause this phenomenon.”
Eist just leaned closer to the mirror, the candle almost close enough to her matted hair to light it. But a curious thing happened as her face was illuminated by the small flame; the closer the light got to it, the more her pupil shrank until it was back to normal.
“What?!” she repeated with even more surprise as she looked up at the others. It was only then that she noticed that it was actually nighttime, the hall cloaked in restful darkness with the flickering of candles where they were n
ecessary.
“Curious,” the healer said, leaning toward Eist’s still-battered face. “Would you mind closing your eye and putting your hands over it gently for a moment?”
Eist did so, waiting until they spoke again.
“Now open them up.”
She did, and once more, the room seemed as bright to her as if it was mid-afternoon, with shadows just beginning to cast themselves over the hall.
“I see.”
“What’s going on?” Eist asked, feeling more confused than anything.
“It seems that your injury has given you a sort of adaption. When you’re in the dark, both of your eyes are expanding to be witch’s eyes. When you’re introduced to a bright enough light, this one returns to normal. I have to say, I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
“No,” Eist mumbled, her mind spinning. “Of course you haven’t.”
“I guess you and your dragon match even more now. The two of you really are special, aren’t you?”
“I guess so,” Eist agreed numbly.
The conversation settled, and everyone returned to gently talking about how grateful they were that she was alright, and asking how she was, and plans for the future, but it all sort of fell as background noise onto Eist’s ears.
Her world was changing. Magic was real and vibrant and there were people out there doing what they shouldn’t, piercing the veil and reaching into places that no mortal should tread. It made her wonder what was fairytale and what was truth, and even if the Three themselves were far more tangible than she had ever thought. It was alarming, and her feet felt like they had no place to plant themselves.
Something had changed. She could feel it. What was once certain was now uncertain, and facts were quickly turning to lies. But what she did know without a doubt was that the man she had met was not only important, but he now had a personal vendetta against her. She could feel it in her bones that it was far from the last time the two of them would face off.