Ambushed (The Brindle Dragon Book 4) Read online

  She had no time to rest. She felt more footsteps behind her, trying to rush her while she was on the ground. She rolled backward and up, forcing her body to move quickly and efficiently like she trained. When she was on her feet, she saw two more men closing in on her, armed with a net.

  They tried to rush her, but a brindled streak rushed through the air beside her and barreled into one of the attacker’s chest so hard he was lifted off his feet. Eist took the distraction to her advantage and brought her sword down on the remaining man’s wrist before punching him in his throat as hard as she could.

  He stumbled back, choking, and Eist finished his threat by punching him in the same spot again.

  It felt strange to possibly have someone’s life about to end at her own hands, but she had always known that was a possibility. She wished that she had time to think about it, time to process what had happened, but that wasn’t how battle worked.

  She stood up, readying herself for more. She felt a presence beside her and looked to see Athar and his large dragon push back several more of the slavers. He looked magnificent, for a moment, backdropped with the sparkling lavender of the night sky and glowing a sparkling gold. Eist gaped at him, completely distracted, until something slammed into her gut, knocking the air right out of her.

  “Eist!”

  So many people were calling her name. That didn’t seem like a very sound battle strategy, her mind questioned as she fought for her vision to clear.

  Suddenly a strong hand was on her back and hauling her onto her feet. She found herself pressed to a solid wall of flesh and she realized that Athar was holding her while walking backward, his sword raised and defending against an approaching attacker.

  It was while being forced into a retreat that Eist realized that they were quickly being overwhelmed. There were just too many men, and they seemed to keep coming and coming, their wild cries and greenish-black tint threatening to overpower the glow of everything else.

  Athar pulled her back into what was left of the center circle before letting her go. She could see both Yacrist and Ain firing their bows, but Dille was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where’s Dille?!” Eist cried.

  “Here! I’m here!” Eist craned her neck upward to see Dille sitting atop Veralda’s back as she hovered in the small gap between the trees. She was armed with a bow like the others and had a wild look about her face.

  She let out a little laugh at seeing her friend astride her mount, the first of their class to be able to do so, but it was cut off by a sharp stab of apprehension in her gut.

  “Wha—”

  Ropes shot out of the trees, as if they had been fired by something like a crossbow. Eist barely had a chance to see that they were all weighted with what looked like a large stone bead at the end, and she couldn’t figure out why that would be useful until it hit Athar’s leg next to her and its momentum made it wrap around his thick limb several times.

  He raised his hand to cut on it, but then he was yanked off his feet and dragged through the grass on his front.

  “Athar!” Eist cried, running after him. She dodged the slavers and dragons, and the few of her academy mates who preferred to fight with blade rather than bow. She could feel a strange, almost mechanical clicking from behind the trees, and she assumed that was the source of what was insistently yanking Athar backward.

  “Hold onto something!” she felt herself scream, running as fast as she could. Somehow, he managed to hear her, and his hands frantically scrambled across the ground, trying to find purchase. He managed to find a root and latched onto it, his muscles straining as he held on.

  “Eist!” he groaned desperately. She could feel that clicking in the woods turning into creaks, trying desperately to reel the big man in.

  More ropes shot out. She could hear thunking as they hit some of their targets behind her, but she didn’t let that stall her. Vaulting forward, she rolled over Athar’s back and brought her dull blade down on the rope.

  It didn’t cut, because of course it didn’t, but it did fray. Eist let out a cry of frustration, but before she could bring down her weapon again, Fior was under her and ripping his teeth into what was left of the rope.

  It snapped, recoiling back behind the trees like a whip, and Eist rushed to get Athar on his feet. She rushed to get him back to the circle, but as she did, another student went whipping past her, rope wrapped around their small waist.

  “Fior!” she ordered. “Free them before they hit the tree line!”

  Despite his weight, and the way he limped, she managed to get Athar back to the center. There were less of them now, and the odds seemed even worse.

  “There’s something about the ropes,” Dille shouted from above, circling with her bow in hand. She let loose a bolt, and Eist followed its path to see it slide through a rope that was wound about Freidrick’s arm. “I think they’re—”

  “Cursed, yeah,” Eist breathed, her heart squeezing.

  “If it’s magic, then this could be—”

  “Yup.”

  Him.

  The man from the woods.

  The one who had wanted her dragon.

  Did he know she was here? Had he come to collect? Or was this just bad luck?

  “They’re overwhelming us!” Wycoff yelled, interrupting her thoughts as Arterius blew another wave of fire at a group that tried to rush them. “We need to get the young ones out of here!”

  Fjorin nodded, not even turning to face the group.

  “Everyone who’s able, get on Arterius’s back. We need to retreat!”

  “There’s no way all of us will fit on there,” Ain said, dodging a rope that flew just past his head. “And we have injured!”

  “That’s why I said those who are able. Fly, as fast as you can, get help, have your dragons follow. We will hold them off.”

  “But—”

  Fjorin whirled on them, eyes flashing, and face so determined that even Eist lost her breath for a moment. “An order is an order. If you want to be a dragon rider, you better learn to listen to them! Arterius, Lagre Dem!”

  The great beast let out another massive wall of fire then turned, its tail taking out more of the slavers. The ropes tried to ensnare it, but he was far too big.

  “Here,” Dille said, Veralda coming close enough to the ground for her to offer her hand to another slender girl. “You’re light enough for us to carry.”

  The girl didn’t need any other encouragement and hopped on while Arterius lowered himself as flat as he could to the ground for the others.

  Eist stood there a moment, caught up in indecision. It seemed wrong to leave behind their teacher, Fjorin, and their wounded. Shouldn’t they stay and fight? But she could feel that this was a losing battle. They just didn’t have the numbers. If they could just get away fast enough, maybe they could come back and defeat them.

  But that meant six folks, consisting of four wounded or unconscious dragon hopefuls and their young dragons, would have to hold off an entire horde for at least a couple hours.

  “Eist!”

  By the Three, she was getting tired of people shouting her name. She moved to step away from Arterius, determined to stay and help the others hold the camp, but then thick fingers wrapped around the back of her sleep shirt and she was hauled upwards.

  “Voar!”

  There was a beat of giant wings. Once, twice, then a third time, and they were shooting into the air, much of their lift provided by the dragon’s legs.

  “No!” Eist cried, trying to wiggle out of the strong grip holding her. “I need to help!”

  “You’re just one person,” she heard Athar breathe raggedly just beside her good ear. “Please, f-for once, let someone else handle the impossible odds.”

  Eist craned her neck back to look back at the giant of a man and found that he was gazing down at her with far too much fear and worry in his eyes. They weren’t nearly close enough for him to care that much about if she lived or died, so why was he staring at her
like that?

  “For once, I agree with him,” Yacrist said, voice weak as they rose just to the top of the trees. Eist could tell that their mount was struggling with seven of them on his back, and Veralda was trying just as hard to carry her two. “You’re more helpful going to get reinforcements then possibly dying down there.”

  “I don’t like leaving people behind.”

  “No one does,” Ain said flatly. “But we’re not leaving them behind. We’re getting help. Don’t let your hero’s ego delude you that sometimes retreat isn’t the best option.”

  Eist opened her mouth to argue, but they were right. She was just a third-year, and she didn’t even have a real weapon. She had only just recently passed her own archery exams and wouldn’t be able to keep up in battle like the more skilled archers amongst them.

  Speaking of which, Dille and a couple others were still firing downwards, still felling slavers rushing out of the trees. They kept at it until their camp disappeared from view and there was only the sound of flapping wings around them, the younger dragons fighting to keep up as best they could. Whenever one started to dip too low, Arterius would use his snoot or tail to flip them upwards, giving them plenty of height so they could glide on currents for a while before starting to lose altitude again.

  Eist kept her eyes on Fior, who was sticking close to the red dragon’s side. He had only just learned how to pass his gliding tests. She worried that if she blinked for too long, he might drop out of the sky and get snatched up by the men below.

  “Who were those people?” someone asked. Eist probably knew their name, but she couldn’t think of it. There was nothing outside of the battle, and those they had left behind.

  “Slavers,” Dille answered, keeping the details of who they had been slaving for to herself. Eist was grateful for that. If she mentioned that, there were sure to be more questions. “Which means that they’ll try to take as many as they can alive.”

  “What would slavers be doing this close to Rothaiche M’or? We’re nowhere near the wilds!”

  “I don’t know. But the why doesn’t matter much at this moment. Just that we need to get to help as soon as possible.”

  They fell quiet at that, the minutes stretching on. They flew an hour, maybe more, Arterius growing more and more weary, but the academy or its grounds were still nowhere in sight. Just when Eist was sure that they would take far too long to save anybody at all, several dots came into view in the distance.

  “There!” she said, excitedly pointing into the night sky.

  “There what? I can’t see anything.”

  “Dragon riders!” She was sure of it. She could see the glint of their armor even from where she was.

  “How could they possibly know something was going on?” Ain asked, leaning forward as Arterius slowly lowered himself to an outcropping of rock on the mountain side.

  “I think I see a red dragon. They must have heard Arterius’s call.”

  It was a trait all dragons shared. Those of the same color could sometimes hear their own kind cry out even over great distances. Eist had a feeling that it wasn’t actually them physically hearing anything, but rather a connection they shared in their minds.

  The students slid from Arterius’s back, but Eist stayed in place. When Yacrist went to slide away, she caught his hand and shook her head. Something told her that she didn’t want to be on the ground just yet, even when the three dragon riders landed with them.

  “Are you alright?” one of them asked. It wasn’t anyone Eist recognized, so they most likely had just been visiting the academy on a rest. Some rest.

  “We were attacked in the woods,” she said as briskly as she could. “Fjorin and Wycoff were left behind, along with our wounded. We need to get back to them—”

  “Hold it there. Our orders are to bring you back, not engage in any sort of battle. The council wants us to bring our forces in.”

  “What?” she asked. “So, you would leave the others to die?”

  “You’ve already been flying for quite some time, yes? Your call was heard at least an hour ago. By the time we were to go back to them, they would all be dead.”

  Eist looked to Arterius. “Does this seem like a dragon whose rider is dead?”

  “Sometimes denial can be a strong thing. Now come, give that poor dragon a rest and come with us back to the academy.”

  Eist felt her temper snap, and Dille seemed to be just as heated. “This doesn’t make sense. You’re dragon riders. Since when do you abandon each other to hole up in the academy?”

  “Since there was an attack on the western border and they want all of you home now to take inventory of what we have available to fight with. Now please, I know you young ones are no doubt scared, but everything will be better when you’re safe and sound behind the academy walls.”

  Eist bit her lips, willing herself not to say what she wanted to. For being grand warriors and diplomats that she had once looked up to, the dragon riders before her didn’t look so great at the moment. Then again, they were just following orders.

  Stupid orders.

  Eist looked to Dille, her eyes questioning. Her friend just gave a solid nod, her face a flat mask. Then she glanced to Yacrist, who let out a long sigh.

  “You’re about to do something stupid, aren’t you?” he said, leaning close to her good ear and whispering lightly. The feeling of his breath on her skin sent goosebumps along her arm, but she ignored it.

  “Probably.”

  “Did you say something, young lady?” one of the other dragon riders asked kindly.

  “No,” she answered calmly before then turning to Ain and Athar.

  “I don’t th-th-think we sh-”

  “Do it,” Ain said firmly, putting a hand on his friend’s large chest.

  “Fior, come.” Eist tried to say it as relaxed as she could, as if she wasn’t planning something. He lifted his head curiously from where he was resting on the ground and scampered up to her. She could tell he was tired and didn’t know if he could do what they needed to do.

  Unfortunately, it seemed the action didn’t go entirely unnoticed. The other dragon rider took a step forward. “Come on now, why don’t you let this big guy rest?”

  Shrugging, Eist laid her palm on the red beast’s flank. “Arterius?” she murmured. “Take us to your rider.”

  He let out a mighty roar and surged upwards, Veralda barking in surprise and rushing to follow after them. Eist heard the cries of the other dragon riders as they yelled for them to stop, but it wasn’t like they could do anything about it since their orders wouldn’t even allow them to go and save another of their own.

  They flew back much more quickly than they had left, Eist hunkering her body low to not catch the wind. Normally, a dragon would have a saddle, but obviously Fjorin hadn’t had time to properly put his tack on when they had been ambushed.

  “Hey,” she said, directing her voice toward his head as best she could. “Can you tell where he is?”

  A rumble rolled through him, making her whole body vibrate, and she took that as a no.

  “Okay. I, uh, I need you to do me a favor, okay? Think of him. Think as hard as you can.”

  There was another rumble, but it seemed more agreeable. Eist smiled and pressed her face into his scales, closing her eyes.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Ain asked from behind her.

  “Hush,” Yacrist hissed. “Just trust her.”

  Eist shut them out, focusing only on the dragon below her. She felt his heartbeat, the rough grit over a couple of his scales that had been scarred since his last shed. She felt him breathe in and out.

  Her world suddenly expanded, and she was acutely aware of everything around her. Fior, pressing his rounded snout into her side. She could feel all of their heartbeats, and the flap of dragon wings.

  And she could feel fear.

  So much fear.

  He was close.

  And then, when she sat up, she opened her eyes and looked.

>   “I see Fjorin,” she murmured, her eyes catching a tiny ribbon of blue shimmering into the woods. “Arterius, I see him. Will you let me guide you to him?”

  The dragon let out a warbling sort of keen, which Eist took as a yes.

  “What?” Ain asked behind her. “What do you mean you see him? What’s going on?”

  “Hold tight,” Eist answered honestly. “I think you’re all about to meet the guy who’s tried to kill me twice.”

  “Good,” Dille said firmly. “I might have a word or two to say to him.”

  “You’ll have to get in line.”

  10

  So Much Worse

  They flew over the trees until the sun started to rise, and Eist knew that it was too dangerous to keep going that way. They were following the blue string as best they could, even if Ain and Athar both seemed to have hundreds of questions they were barely keeping back.

  Their questions could wait, because every so often, the blue thread would give a little shake and then dim a bit. Eist didn’t need a forbidden magic book to know what that meant.

  “We’re close,” she said to the others, not willing to turn her head to them. “We need to take to ground. Try to be as quiet as you can, Arterius.”

  Another rumble and they were slowly lowering back into the tree line. The ground was rougher, rockier than when their camp had been, but Eist could make out inky, glowing footsteps all around them. The slavers must have come this way, but why? They were almost up against the westernmost mountain barrier that separated civilization from the dangerous and monstrous wilds. What could possibly be around that would be useful for them, and why would they need slaves for it?

  “Keep low,” she murmured, creeping along and still following the blue thread. “We’re almost there.”

  “Almost where?” Ain hissed.

  “We’ll explain later,” Yacrist said. “Just worry about what we might find and not why we’re here. That’s for if we survive.”