Indebted

52

No goodbyes were granted. Esti had briefly felt almost content, a memory of how it felt to belong only just last night, over a perfect never ending feast. Now that was all being taken away from her. This time Esti wasn't sure if she was still strong or lucky enough to fight the odds. Not against an entire team of trained mercenaries and a witch who stank of kelp and magic in near equal measure with a magical device that was unlike anything she had ever seen or heard of before. One that had Esti under the witch's full control.

As she was herded along like a willing sheep among predators, Esti tried to get her head clear. There were four men, walking in formation around her. Each had the easy, rolling gait of a predator. Able to smoothly navigate over the rough terrain without ever misplacing a foot. Shifters. Esti noted.

Feeling a hum of pride from Opal, who was muted, like the dragon was nearly severed from her entirely. Esti had underestimated how much Opal had been improving every single signal her body registered. Her sight, hearing, intuition had all felt sharper until the metal closed around her throat. The sense of pride from Opal spurred Esti to keep trying. They weren't going to roll over easily not her and not Opal. The magic collar might be trying to keep them separated, they would both fight.

The men didn't have the bulk or confidence that a bear would have. The aura was entirely wrong for a dragon, all four seemed to move as a single unit, meaning they likely had a mind link. Part of a pack of some kind, Likely wolves Esti thought, they were the most common shifters. The men worked like a unit, not as individuals, they had trained together, were a difficult foe to face.

Cats tended to prefer only their families for company she knew, and with four men who were unlikely to be related by appearance. Based on the asian eyes, feline shifters were unlikely. Esti wasn't familiar with the multitudes of shifters possible. Regardless, the group of coordinated men would be formidable to fight against. Esti couldn't glean anything from their minds with the collar strangle tight around her neck. Had not had a chance to learn anything before the metal was around her throat.

The dragon might have had a chance in a fight against four shifters. Esti as a human stood no chance at all. She wasn't a fighter. She hadn't ever been allowed to train in the gym of the castle or even learn self defense. The biggest threat she had faced on the farm was rabbits in her gardens, or a bird of prey contemplating a chicken dinner on her farm.

Aside from the obvious danger the gang shifters posed. There was also the witch who held control over Esti through the collar around her throat. Choking her in binds and limitations. Esti tried to steal glances of the witch. She stank, especially compared to the unnaturally scent free shifters. Her hands were worn, the skin wrinkled, dry looking. The cuticles around her nails rough and broken. Nails a different length on each finger, some worn short, others long, all chipped and uneven.

The witches hair was a matted tangle, kelp, seaweed, urchin skeletons and other shells knotted into the long, salt streaked strands that looked like they might be a dark brown originally. Esti's mouth fell open as she watched a small hermit crab scuttle up into the sunlight before disappearing back into the sealife-filled midden heap that counted as hair.

The witches' clothes were ragged, and well past being well worn. Whatever color the fraying garment had once had was bleached away by salt water and sunshine to a muted beige. On par or perhaps worse in comparison to the dress Esti had been wearing when she had come to the castle as chattel enslaved. The woman leading Esti like a dog on a chain might look poorer than even Esti had known, might be used to living rough, but the witch was far from being powerless like Esti had been. Esti could feel, could smell, could sense the magic housed in the thin, starved frame of the witch, only the demons Magnus allowed in court had ever felt stronger to Esti.

The witch was the one with all the power. That much was clear. Esti couldn't do much, not with current circumstances. She rebelled in small ways. Trying to step on uneven stones, making sure she moved as slowly as she could, stumbling, tripping the entire way. The longer she prolonged whatever this escape was, the more likely someone might stumble upon them.

Esti might have overplayed her limited hand, as she heard the witch call out, "Horace carry her would you, we have an appointment and I simply will not be late for my return to court." The witch decreed, and without a seconds warning, Esti found herself hoisted over the shoulder of one of the shifters who had been acting as her guard.

He smelled of sweat. Sour in her nose up close. Though she still could not parse what variety of shifter the man was with any certainty. Esti hated that she yelped as her belly fell over the shifter's boney shoulder. Hating that all she was wearing was the thin nightie. She did not want to react at all, but could not help herself as the wind was suddenly knocked out of her lungs by the impact.

Nearby but not close enough. Atticus could feel Esti was drawing near, they just had to move quicker. Atticus would have bet that Esti was trying to slow the escape of her captives. Doing anything she could to prevent her captors from taking her, wherever it was they wanted to take her.

Atticus was correct, Esti would not go gently into whatever goodnight her captors had planned for her. Esti would only go easily as far as she was compelled. She felt near blinded with her bond muted, with Opal suppressed. Regardless, she was hoping that Atticus would save her, That anyone would care enough to help her.

At the moment her rebellion was limited to scowling, hate filled looks at her captors, and wishing some kind of bad luck would befall them. Directly trying to lay a hex or considering a handy rock or stick a weapon made her feel sick, blinding hot pain sensations growing along all her nerves. Carried like she was a sack of potatoes. Mace had learned a rune that caused an increase in toe stubbing frequency, and of course taught Esti how to use it. Even thinking about the rune made Esti feel pain and sick in equal measure. Not even her thoughts were safe.

Opal the dragon would not soon forget this indignity they were being made to suffer. The dragon would remember the face of every man here. Would find who was ultimately to blame for their current treatment. The witch, the dragon was slowly coming to know intimately. Yes, the leash was containing and controlling all that Esti and Opal were; However, it was a magical link. One the dragon was working to take advantage of, so far Opal had managed to explore the link enough to be able to overhear the witches inner monologue.

The witch was overly confident that the cursed leash and bracelet set she had fished up from the bottom of the ocean would be the key to her next ascension. She had read the same signs in the tides the day she found the powerful magical artifact in her fishing lines. Like she had felt the morning the hyena's had come to the island.  A kismet moment. A chance to return to the dragon court, to a place where she would matter again, where she could find a way to return her mistress to this realm again. The Hyena were simply hunting after the bounty Magnus had broadcast far and wide.

Wakame believed she knew how to read the signs the ocean shared with her. Wakame was in the middle of an important moment, she had felt the recent shift that had rippled throughout the world. Wakame believed this was her moment. She would make history, change the world, she would be instrumental in history, finally bigger than her small life had kept her.

Wakame had summoned the storm that had surprised Esti and the village. Wakame had felt powerful, new magic approaching her sea cave home, had seen the signs that today was a day to act. Wakame was hoping the magic she had sensed was that of another witch. A being who could be easily bound. A dragon had been counter to her expectations. A dragon was unpredictable. Witches were human once they were barred from their magic. Fae were bound by strict rules and laws. Dragons had no such limitations.

Opal smiled to themselves inside Esti's mind. The witch was both smarter than she appeared, but far too arrogant to think she could interpret the signs the world gave without flaw. True, accurate divination was the rarest of magical talents. Opal knew with certainty that Wakame did not have the talent, and only saw signs that gave her confirmation she was already right. A fatal flaw.