Let Me Fly Free (3 page)

Until we know what we are
dealing with, there is little action we can take.
He turns back toward me.
But I promise I will do everything in my power to protect
you.

That’s not what’s bothering
me
.
I can protect
myself.
I grit my teeth, knowing he’d
never understand if I unleashed my true feelings. I don’t want to
cower and hide and hope that my guardians will take care of me. I
want to set something on fire and watch it burn.

Cyim’s gaze bores into
mine.
As for you, my child, I ask that you
remain vigilant and warn everyone you can to do the same. If you
spot anything amiss, call me immediately. Do not attempt to engage
the danger yourself.

I bite back the desire to
tell him that I
want
to fight. But such contrary talk can only earn me a lecture,
and I haven’t the time to listen to one at the moment. So I simply
nod in response.

An otherworldly glow envelops Cyim’s
obsidian body, until he vanishes within its bright embrace. The
light evaporates, and him with it, leaving me alone on the
riverbank.

I soar over the
colorful treetops, looking down on the land below
me. The sun remains high and bright, yet the invisible shadow I
sense over Kristakai—the looming danger from an unknown Infernal
beast—seems to grow darker with each passing moment. As my eyes
scan the woods for signs of the monster, I wonder whether those
below can feel it, too, or if they remain ignorant to the
threat.

In my flame form I am weightless, a part of
the breeze. Glancing back, I glimpse an orange and yellow blaze in
place of my legs, wrapping around my hips and fading into my dress.
Beyond those flames, the clouds are as white and pure as before,
and the forest below no more threatening than yesterday. If the
mysterious evil is nearby, I can’t see it.

I face forward again, and my long hair whips
against my face, filling my vision with its leaping, gleaming
strands; it, too, turns into fire when I fly. Wreathed head-to-toe
in flames, I feel powerful—and ready to fight.

But no matter which way I
look, I spot nothing out of the ordinary, and I find that more
unnerving than if there were an
actual
shadow—something I could see
and track—moving over the land. Yet the beast must be
somewhere
, and it could
strike again at any moment, for all I know. I need to stop it
before it does—never mind what Cyim told me.

My plan is simple: Find the monster and burn
it to nothing. And the sooner, the better.

Listen well, inhabitants of
Kristakai.
Cyim’s voice suddenly rings
through my head, and I pause mid-air, startled. Where is he, and
why would he address me like that?
I speak
to you on behalf of all the unicorns, with a message of grave
importance.

Understanding dawns on me.
He’s not talking to me specifically—he’s psychically communicating
with
everyone
.
Powerful as he is, I know that’s too great a feat for him to have
accomplished on his own; he must have met with the other unicorns
already. They must be pooling their magic to amplify his
abilities.

An Infernal creature has
breached our borders
, Cyim continues, his
tone grave.
We do not yet know what it is
or what it is capable of, but I assure you, we are doing everything
in our power to stop it. Do what you must to remain safe, and do
not attempt to confront it yourselves.

I grimace. I suppose it makes sense to warn
everyone about the monster, but his last words irritate me.
He—along with the other unicorns—wants everyone to do nothing and
let Kristakai’s guardians take care of the problem.

No matter, I tell myself. I ignored him when
he told me that by the riverbank, and I shall ignore him now.

Flying forward once more, I turn my gaze
downward, scanning the trees for anything amiss. But all I find are
the usual laughing greens of the treetops, the smiling purples of
the meadows, and the giggling blues of the river, all sprinkled
with flashes of colored light from where a fairy or sprite or other
enchanted inhabitant has cast a spell. Up close, each of those
places would reveal an even greater mix of colors, swirling in
harmony upon a bloom’s petal or a pond’s ripples.

As if to complement the vibrant colors, I
hear something—beneath the whooshing of the wind and the crackle of
my own flames, a sweet melody floats up in lilting soprano notes,
accented by a countermelody of rising thirds. The voices are too
ethereal to have come from the lips of a creature of flesh… It’s
likely the songflowers—the enchanted blossoms that, despite lying
scattered across Kristakai, all raise their voices at once when
they sense the time is right. Ordinarily, the music pouring from
the multicolored bells, which dangle from clear, crystal stems
adorned with leaves as delicate as dewdrops, inspires joy or
induces serenity.

Today, they carry a
mournful tune, one that seeps into my heart and weighs it down, and
at last I feel the sorrow for the lost lives by the riverbank. The
haunting melody rises and falls like the ragged gasps of a weeping
mourner, and I almost weep as well. But there’s a heat beneath, a
soft tension expressed through dissonant chords pressing up against
the notes. It causes a strange type of discomfort to scratch at my
core, telling me that there is more than just sorrow to be
felt—there is darkness as well. And that heat causes my sorrow to
simmer into anger…
No one
had the right to take those lives from us. This
monster—this invader—must be destroyed, and the longer I dwell on
it, the more determined I am to be the one to purge it from my
home.

Yet I have no idea where to begin. I don’t
even know what I’m looking for, and I hate that I’ve been able to
do nothing so far. As far as I can tell, the trail of death I
encountered is the only sign that the beast even exists.

Suddenly a new wind brushes
against me, and this time it feels different. It’s more than the
empty movements of shifting air… I sense
life
in this breeze. And not just
any life—one I’ve come to trust and take comfort in.

“
Elaia…” Her voice
surrounds me, soft and breathy.

I pause midair, recognizing her at once,
though she’s invisible at present. The wind grows stronger for a
moment, then dies down as a pale, narrow figure clad in azure
materializes before me. Colored wisps extend from her hips in place
of legs; like me, she can transform into her element, and has done
so to reach me. Silver-white hair, tinted with just the slightest
hint of gold, billows across her delicate face, and she brushes it
out of her ice blue eyes with slight fingers, revealing slim
eyebrows knit with worry.

“
Kiri,” I say.

Before I can continue, she throws her
slender arms around me, pulling me close. “I was so worried about
you.” Her breath sweeps against my ear, and her cool arm presses
into my bare back. I return her embrace, though she’s so slight, I
almost fear I’ll break her. Or that one of her jutting bones will
impale me … which is not a very charitable thought, I know. But
holding her is about as pleasant as wrapping one’s arms around a
bundle of sticks. She has angles where I have curves, and though
her skin is as smooth as my own, it always feels thinner.

Yet I still find her beautiful, and the
moment she starts to draw back, I seize her anew and press my lips
against hers. It’s a familiar kiss, a quiet kiss. One we’ve shared
many times in the past year.

She presses her forehead against mine, one
hand still holding my face. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Cyim’s
warning made me fear the worst…” She trails off, her expression so
brittle, a single cruel word would bring her to tears. “I don’t
know what I’d do if I lost you.”

I suppress a sigh. Any fool
could tell that Kiri is in love with me, despite the fact that I
warned her not to be from the beginning. I’ve never had any desire
to bond with another nymph, though most claim that such a pairing
is the peak of happiness. But just because I don’t want to fall in
love doesn’t mean I don’t want a lov
er
—a sure and comforting presence
that keeps me warm at night. I enjoy Kiri’s companionship, but her
muted sweetness often feels as hollow as the element she embodies.
She’s too nice, too gentle, too quiet. Beautiful, but boring. Just
like Kristakai… Before today, that is.

Again, not very charitable,
I know. Which is why I’ve often wondered whether I should break
this courtship. But her attachment to me is the very thing that
keeps me from confessing the truth—that I
don’t
reciprocate her feelings and
never will. No one has ever looked at me the way she does, as if
I’m the most important person in her life. And if I lost that, who
knows how long it would be before I inspired such an emotion in
another?

In any case, now is hardly the time to fret
about such things—or cause her sorrow. I may not be very kind, but
even I know that to break her heart when evil threatens us all
would be beyond cruel.

I give her my best, most reassuring smile.
“Oh, Kiri. You should know better than to worry about me.”

The corner of her mouth flickers, but her
eyes take on a sad tint, and as she drops her hands and draws back,
I wonder if my thoughts somehow carried into my tone or expression.
She casts her gaze downward and says, “We shouldn’t linger in the
sky. For all anyone knows, the monster can fly as well, and there’s
no place to hide should it choose to attack.”

“
That’s true.” With only
air surrounding me, I suddenly feel exposed. It never occurred to
me that the beast might be able to fly as well, but given that I
know absolutely nothing about it, that’s perfectly possible. It’s
equally possible that the Infernal creature can
not
fly, which would mean that our
ability to soar above the treetops could be our best defense. I
consider bringing this up, then realize there’s no point. We can’t
stay up here forever, after all. Already, I’m starting to tire from
my flight, and the last thing I want is to drain all my energy,
then find myself too weary to fight back should I encounter the
monster.

So I accept the small hand she extends
toward me and let her lead me quickly toward the ground. Soft
leaves brush against me as we enter the treetops, weaving around
the curving branches. I revert back to my usual form, turning the
flames that were my lower body back into legs, and my feet land on
a grassy forest floor. Kiri makes her descent beside me, but though
she, too, returns to a solid state, she appears just as ethereal as
when she was a gust of the wind.

Tall, dignified trees now stand around us,
their narrow white and brown trunks draped in blue-green ivy.
Though their branches intertwine above, they stand several yards
apart from each other, meaning there’s little chance that they’re
concealing anything.

Then again, the riverbank offered no cover
either, and yet the monster still managed to vanish. Perhaps it
truly is invisible.

“
What were you doing up
there?” Kiri asks.

“
What do you think?
Searching for the monster so I can set it ablaze before it hurts
anyone else.” To emphasize my point, I flick my wrist and conjure a
small flame.

She gives me a skeptical look. “You don’t
even know if it’s vulnerable to fire.”

“
Anything
can burn,” I retort.

“
Anything
Terrestrial
. But this
creature is Infernal, and we know nothing about its powers or
abilities.”

I start to reply, then stop
myself as I realize she’s right. Recognizing how foolish it was for
me to assume that the rules of the Terrestrial would apply to an
Infernal creature, I huff. I suppose I should add a few extra steps
to my plan: Find out what this creature is, figure out what it’s
vulnerable to,
then
seek and destroy it.

“
Good point,” I say
reluctantly. “Have you heard anything? Cyim didn’t seem to know
much.”

“
I asked Amdyth about it,”
she replies, speaking of the unicorn who created her—her Terrene
Mother. “All she would say was that something dark is awakening for
the first time in generations. I hoped she would elaborate, but she
left it there.”