Unleashed (The Brindle Dragon Book 6) Read online

  For a moment, it seemed like he was completely coated in the stickiness, and they took that as their cue to bolt. Eist couldn’t help but laugh as they sped out, taking to the air with several sharp dragon cries.

  The weapons master was left sputtering and cursing on the ground. Eist looked over her shoulder, expecting to see Dille’s new red dragon flying toward them, but it turned out that she wasn’t the spitter at all. Instead, it was Ale’a and her mount that cut through the air straight toward them.

  “Took you long enough,” she said with a grin, her smile glinting almost as bright as her armor. “Follow me. It’s nearly a straight line.”

  “I thought you couldn’t fight with your dragon.”

  Ale’a’s smile was wolfish. “Oh no, dear, I said I wasn’t allowed to. That’s entirely different from not being able to.”

  “Do I want to know why you weren’t allowed?” Yacrist asked cautiously, seemingly surprised by her expression.

  “Oh, probably because Pernicia here ate an instructor in our third year.” That got Eist’s attention and her head snapped to the muscled woman. But she just laughed. “Don’t worry, he deserved it. He put his hands on one too many a student, and Pernicia just didn’t like that.” She patted the side of her large red dragon, one almost as big as Dille’s new mount. “Did you, my girl?”

  Pernicia let out a rumbling sort of chuckle then zoomed forward. Eist looked back to Dille, who seemed absolutely awestruck.

  “So that’s what that was all about.”

  “What?” Eist asked with raised eyebrows.

  “There’s a lot of rumors about why they wouldn’t let Ale’a graduate to dragon rider but still allowed her to teach. The most believable one I heard was that she turned it down and opted to stay in the academy to make sure no one ever had to go through what her class did. I think maybe we owe her more than we ever realized we did.”

  Eist had never been to Margaid before. She wished that she could enjoy the beautiful landscapes they were passing over, but her mind was too focused on the battle that they could possibly be flying into.

  Would there be massive casualties? Would it still be going on? Would the Blight be there?

  Who knew.

  They didn’t run across any ravens on the way, but the longer they flew, the more dragon riders joined them. By the time the coast came into sight, there were around thirty of them flying in a loose formation. Eist could feel Fior beginning to flag, and Gaius had to stop carrying Ain, who had clambered over to Veralda.

  “We’re close,” Ale’a said, probably more to herself than any of them. She actually hadn’t said much since they took off, her square face stern as she leaned forward. In all the years Eist had known her, she’d never really seen the carved woman fly. And goodness, she certainly was a sight, her armor glowing with sunlight and her mount shone a brilliant scarlet. Maybe the Blight would see her and turn right around, metaphorical tail tucked between its legs.

  But perhaps that was being a bit too hopeful.

  Night had passed and the sun was just beginning to rise when the city came close enough for them to see a bit of land devastated from the battle.

  Although there were no creatures, there were trees uprooted, craters in the ground, and large portions of land stained red. Too many bodies littered the ground, with small teams moving about to clear them.

  Eist could make out soldiers from Margaid itself in a tight circle around the city walls. A larger circle around them was completely barren, stained pitch-black. Eist didn’t need an ancient tome to know that it was the blood of those creatures, born from the Blight itself, that had poisoned the ground everywhere they fell.

  And finally, in a much larger circle that was farther spread out, were the bodies of dragons and their riders. The sight of them made Eist’s heart clench, and she was reminded of that same feeling she’d had when she saw the prisoner in the canyon being consumed by corruption.

  So much loss. So much devastation. And all of it was because she had been stupid enough to fall into Farmad’s trap and let Valatos get her blood. If she had just been a little smarter…

  She cut off that line of thought. What was done was done, and she couldn’t afford to waste energy worrying about how she had already messed up. She had to get her act together and focus on the now.

  “There! Those will be the headquarter tents. We should land there.”

  It was a dragon rider that Eist didn’t know who spoke, their thick finger pointed to a row of light tents toward the outer circle. She could make out maybe three large ones, with dozens of smaller ones in between.

  Fior huffed gratefully when she squeezed her knees in the signal to land. Soon, they were all thunking to the ground, some of the dragons having had an easier time as long-distance flyers than others.

  “By the Three,” Ain grumbled, sliding off of Veralda then crossing over to help Dille down from her newer mount. Eist figured she should probably ask her what the name of the gargantuan red dragon was, but that could wait until later.

  Later being after they all filed into the open flaps of the largest tent.

  Unsurprisingly, Elspeth and several more of the council were there, a map spread between them. There were multiple pieces and marks on the hastily-drawn landscape, looking much like Eist had always imagined a war headquarters to look.

  Elspeth’s head snapped up, then almost immediately snapped to the ground, her lavender eyes landing on Eist. The young woman could feel the weariness in the woman’s gaze and tried hard not to sag under its weight.

  “I hear that the castle fell in Rothaiche M’or,” she said hollowly. “And that the Lord and Lady of the House are both missing, along with most of their staff.”

  “That’s right,” Yacrist answered uncomfortably.

  “I have a feeling that you lot know exactly what happened?”

  Eist nodded, surprised by the reaction. She had expected orders to go back to the academy or demands for what they were thinking by coming here. Not this weary sort of acceptance.

  “Do you remember that man in the woods I saw years ago? And how I told you he was the same one in the canyon?”

  “Is this more magic—” a council member started to sneer. They didn’t finish their sentence, however, because Elspeth had flicked out a long, thin dagger between her fingers so quickly it had been almost impossible to see, and the blade was resting lightly against the man’s chin.

  “Let’s not start with any of that, shall we? I’ve had a very bad day.”

  The council member put his hands up and stepped back, allowing Eist to continue.

  “Well, he laid a trap…”

  Bit by bit, Eist told them everything. From her wounds, to the portals, to Valatos and beyond. The only thing she left out was Yacrist using forbidden spells. Because, although she had the cushion of her parents and Dille had literally traveled through time, Yacrist could easily be an orphan in the next few days if his parents were never found.

  If any of her friends objected to the omission, none of them said. Yacrist even squeezed her shoulder in approval.

  By the time she finished, she was left looking at a cluster of faces that ranged from skeptical to horrified.

  “The Blight is back,” Elspeth breathed, sagging against the table. “Everything we’ve done, and we’re right back where we started.”

  “We barely survived the last time we faced this creature down,” someone else remarked. But Eist couldn’t turn her head to see who spoke. Seeing Elspeth, who was always so strong, so assured or even aloof, reduced to a trembling gasp was almost too much. Eist felt like she’d experienced a whole lot of ‘too much’ lately, and it was beginning to get to her.

  “So what do we do?” Fjorin said, standing up from a corner. Eist hadn’t even seen him there, and she felt the tiniest bit of relief at his friendly face.

  To everyone’s shock, it was Dille who spoke. “From what I know of the Blight, it’ll attack at night this time, most likely from the sea. It th
rives on the chaos of disrupting sleep and schedules. If we’re going to fight it, we need to prepare for multiple skirmishes here, keeping it busy and stopping it from spreading while also hunting for old knowledge that could shut it out.”

  “Knowledge like what killed my parents?” Eist asked.

  Dille nodded. “Yes. Exactly like that.”

  Elspeth straightened, taking in a deep breath and becoming every bit of the leader that the legends spoke of. “In that case, have the healers swamp the fields and tend to survivors. I want the non-riders to handle resupplying our entire force.

  “Get food from the city, enough for everyone. And we’re going to need to request the royal navy. This is going to be a marathon, not a sprint, and I want as few of us to die as possible.”

  People started to move, all rushing off to where they could help, but Elspeth stopped Eist’s group from leaving with a single hand on Ale’a’s sizable bicep.

  “I know you. You’re one of the guardians of the academy, aren’t you?”

  A lot of firsts were happening as Eist watched the tall redhead blush. “I think we both know that’s not an official title.”

  “All that matters to me is that it’s true. Look, battle camps like this have a lot of wounded and people who are easy to take advantage of. We’d all like to think that nothing would happen, but there will always be nefarious souls looking for gain. I need you on patrol with anyone else you trust. It’ll take you out of most battles, but it’s vital.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ale’a said with a grin. “I’m not here for glory. If you need me to prowl for predators, then I’d be happy to prowl for predators.”

  “Good.”

  The women shared a nod and Ale’a headed out, no doubt to tell Pernicia their new task. Eist felt like she was seeing other sides to people, sides she never knew existed, and it was certainly an education.

  “Now, as for you lot, you’re all students, right?” They nodded and for a moment, Eist was sure that the leader of the council was about to send all of them back home.

  “I’m going to put you all as aerial second waves to defend the coastline. You won’t be in the main part of battle, but if what this young—” Elspeth paused, tilting her head to the side. “Weren’t you much younger yesterday?”

  “Yes. The portals Eist mentioned seemed to have…changed my body.”

  “I see. Well, as I was saying, if what you say is true, you’ll still see plenty of the fight. And when you’re not in battle, I need you in the Margaidian archives, hunting for the answers. I will join you when I can, but I don’t have the same magic in my blood that you lot seem to.”

  “Actually,” Ain said. “Athar and I don’t have a lick of magic between us. They just keep us around for our dashing looks.”

  Elspeth did not seem amused. “I’m sure. I want you to report to me each day at midday if we’re not under attack. Can you do that?”

  Eist nodded. “I can.”

  “Good.” Elspeth reached out, her hand resting on Eist’s shoulder. “I know you are young, but it seems that the curse of W’allenhaus puts great responsibilities on your head. We are counting on you a great deal, young dragon hopeful.”

  “I won’t let you down.”

  “Bold words.”

  Eist felt herself smile, a bit of hope curling in her middle. “I’ve been told I’m a bold kind of person.”

  “Who knows,” Elspeth said, dropping her hand. “Maybe that’s exactly what we need.”

  4

  The Monotony of Violence

  Waves crashed against the shore, a deceptively soothing sound considering the battle enveloping them all. Eist couldn’t hear the slosh of the waves so much as she could feel them, but the undercurrent of their tempo was ever-present as she scanned the battlefield with her enchanted sight.

  If she thought the canyon had been a horde, the scene before her was truly overwhelming. Thousands upon thousands of creatures had welled up from the earth like oil, spilling toward the city and out into the larger battlefield of dragon riders.

  The only positive seemed to be that the beasts were single-minded, spurred only by their lust for violence and bloodshed. They were not Farmad, or even Valatos. Eist shuddered at the thought of abominations as relentless and intelligent as that pair, her fingers pressing against the scar in her middle.

  It was difficult, but she tore her eyes away from the battle so that she could look over the sea once more. She and her friends—along with three other riders—were the second wave assigned to the coast. Dille was still certain that the Blight was going to come from that direction, one that would normally be unguarded. Their job was only to delay and mitigate damage until the first wave was able to divert from the main battle.

  Eist’s stomach bubbled with apprehension. She hadn’t even graduated yet. Her halberd was one that she had technically stolen since they’d snuck out with Ale’a, and the longest she had ever ridden Fior was the day previous. Yet now she was in battle, and a key part in making sure their formation had enough time to shift if the Blight did indeed attack directly.

  She remembered all of the legends she had heard about it. How it consumed people whole and left nothing but bones and armor behind. How its great arms could cleave a dragon in two. The thought that she and her friends would somehow be enough to distract it was mindboggling.

  “Does anyone feel like a very small tadpole that’s been thrown into much too large a pond?” Yacrist asked from beside her, his unease clear in his voice.

  “That’s one way to put it,” Ain remarked, counting the bolts in his main quiver for what had to be at least the third time. Eist also didn’t miss how he had three more quivers slid into a multi-strap holster attached to his saddle. Clearly, he had been paying attention in their strategies class where their professor had taught them that an archer is only as good as the number of arrows they carry.

  Dille, however, had her bow attached to her tack, but it clearly wasn’t her main weapon. No, her offense was clearly the vials in all the pouches attached to both her and Veralda while her older dragon was outfitted with what looked like generic assault armor from the academy armory. When she had time to pilfer that was beyond Eist.

  As for Yacrist, he had his longsword and shortsword while Allynbach hovered nervously, tipping close to Veralda’s side. Eist noticed that Fior kept glancing at and leaning toward Dille’s other beast, and she wondered what kind of adventures the two had gotten up to for her mount to be so enamored with the gargantuan dragon. And also how Dille managed to end up in two different times but somehow always ended up with an overly-large red dragon.

  That left Athar, who kept looking to her with an expression she didn’t quite understand, even with her gifted vision. He had a shield strapped to his back, a pike in one hand, and a broadsword in another. Eist didn’t even know people actually used one-handed broadswords outside of legends, but the massive blade looked quite at home in his large grip.

  They almost looked like they knew what they were doing, which was good, because the corner of her gaze caught movement.

  Snapping her head in the direction of the dark water, she saw a disruption in the waves. It started small, a slosh of bubbles in an almost invisible circle, but it quickly grew. Soon, the bodies of fish and other sea creatures began to float to the surface, dead and covered with slick, inky black.

  “There!” she cried, pointing with her halberd.

  The others looked, and she could almost feel them all collectively hold their breaths. The bubbling grew more violent, and then a glistening dark point breached the surface.

  Bit by bit, it rose, revealing a skull-like head that sloped down into slick, aquiline features. Not quite human, but not quite like the exotic squid that Margaid was known to export, it was truly a terrifying creature.

  And that horror only grew ten-fold when dozens of tentacles shot out of the water, reaching for the shore to no doubt do harm.

  “Now!” Eist cried, zooming forward.

&
nbsp; “Remember, distract and disarm,” one of the dragon riders in their group cried, just barely audible on the edge of Eist’s senses. “This is about mitigating damage. Protect yourself and don’t take risks.”

  As if going into battle itself wasn’t a risk.

  But Eist didn’t say that. Instead, she hunkered down against Fior’s back and used her hands against the sides of his neck to tell him where she wanted him to go.

  While they had learned all those important verbal commands to pass their tests, she had long since picked up that she and Fior worked best through touch. And apparently that ability had grown quite a bit for him in the fifty years they had been apart. It only took the slightest pressure of her fingers, and he was darting in that direction, looping, or ducking.

  It didn’t take long before they had a group of tentacles after them, streaking through the sky in a desperate attempt to either spear them or pull them down. Eist did her best to just keep dodging them, before an idea snuck into her head.

  It couldn’t be so simple, could it?

  Well, the Blight seemed to be a physical being, for all that it was a great and insidious thing of magic and death. Maybe it could fall prey to physical handicaps.

  “Hey, Fior, want to try something no one in their right mind would do?”

  He let out a trill that she could feel vibrate against her chest.

  “Alright then. Follow my lead. And make it artsy.”

  Pressing her fingers in, the two of them dove right between two tentacles that were surging for them, shovel-headed ends slapping at air. Carefully, Eist went right, and then up, and then left, circling around and diving through until she was satisfied. With a sharp turn, the two of them surged upwards, grasping tentacles hot on their heels.

  Only to be jerked backwards by the sudden knot they tightened themselves into. Eist stared, a bit in shock that her plan actually worked and that three of the legs were all bound tightly in each other. It would have been comical if Athar didn’t go streaking by with his broadsword, cleaving the tentacles in two.