Let Me Fly Free (9 page)

Finally, she stops on a page near the back
of the book and points at a spot halfway down the left page.
“Thlakeen—there it is.”

The entry lacks the illustrations that adorn
some of the others, which must mean the author didn’t know enough
to draw it. The thlakeen is rare, then. The description is only a
few lines long, but confirms what Ronym Kah told me—that the
creature dwells in the sea but can travel on land, that it can
shrink or enlarge itself at will, that it can absorb the life force
of another and thrives especially on draining those with magic. It
even describes the creature as having the head of a shark and the
tentacles of an octopus. If I weren’t looking for these very words,
I would have missed this entry entirely; it’s so small, the
surrounding paragraphs and illustrations about other monsters
nearly swallow it.

“
It doesn’t mention the
weakness you spoke of,” Kiri says, furrowing her brow. “Though that
doesn’t mean the theory’s wrong, only that the humans might have
discovered something the unicorns hadn’t seen before.”

I pinch my lips, realizing she’s right. It
disturbs me that the unicorns could be ignorant of something the
humans encountered. They must be more fallible than I thought, and
I wonder how they can continue acting as if they know all when
clearly they don’t.

“
We should tell them about
that weakness.” Kiri closes the book and stands. “When they
encounter the thlakeen, such knowledge could be the key to
defeating it.”

“
Unless I find it and
destroy it first.” I get up as well, annoyed that her first thought
is to go running to the unicorns.

She gives me a stern look. “The unicorns
have a much better chance of finding it than you do, and the fate
of Kristakai could depend on them knowing what you learned from the
human.”

Her lecturing tone irritates me further, but
I realize she’s right. With their greater powers, the unicorns can
use magic to find the thlakeen, whereas I have only my eyes.

“
Fine,” I grumble. I
suppose informing the unicorns is the more prudent thing to do. And
while I’m at it, I can also ask them why the blazes none of them
told us about the thlakeen’s identity, which they must have known.
If we’d encountered it, at least we wouldn’t have been blindsided
by a creature we’d never even heard of before. We might have been
able to get away from it.

Though I guess it wouldn’t have made much of
a difference to my kind, since they’ve trapped us here with the
monster and refused to let us go. That they’d rather control us to
uphold some ancient agreement than give us a chance to escape like
everyone else makes my blood boil.

I’m about to take flame form and fly into
the night, furious, when I notice Kiri holding up the book with
both hands.

A long, limber branch reaches down from one
of the trees and takes it from her.

“
Please put this back,” she
says.

A warm, inviting sensation fills the air,
and I know it’s the tree responding to Kiri’s request. Like all
nymphs, I can sense the mood of the nature around me. This current
sensation is weak, though; I’m only catching the edges, for the
rest is meant for Kiri. She’s a favorite among the flora, while I’m
forever shunned. I find that unfair, since with her power, she
could transform into a tornado and uproot them all if she wanted.
Perhaps they do not realize that. After all, she’s never pushed her
powers that far, and, with her shy, serene nature, no one would
have any reason to see her as anything but the tender breeze. She
belongs here in a way I never have, and I wonder how I’m supposed
to remain in Kristakai for the rest of my life when the very land
won’t accept me.

Once she’s done, I leap
into the air, changing into my flame form, and Kiri follows. I
sense the trees’ revulsion as I fly through their branches, and
scowl.
Fools
, I
think.
If I wanted to burn you, you’d be
burned already.

Just another example of how I don’t fit
here.

Kiri soars beside me in her wind form as we
seek the unicorns below. Since each is surrounded by an enchanted
glow, which is overwhelmed by the sun but practically blazes in
darkness, they shouldn’t be hard to find now that it’s dark. The
treetops, so colorful by day, are black and blue masses under the
silvery moonlight, and I comb through the branches with my gaze,
hurriedly seeking the unicorns’ light. Armed with the knowledge of
the thlakeen’s weakness, they can finally destroy it, ending its
terror before it kills anyone else.

I also keep my eyes open for the thlakeen,
just in case. If I come across it first, I’m prepared to fight, but
that doesn’t stop tension from squeezing my every muscle.

Then I spot a silvery glimmer beneath the
dark treetops below and know immediately that it’s due to the
presence of unicorns. Cyim’s probably among them; somehow, I can
always feel it in the air when he’s nearby. I blow out a breath and
rush toward the light, glad that I found him so quickly.

As I descend, my intuition is confirmed. A
silvery halo—the Celestial light of the stars glowing within
him—surrounds Cyim’s inky form, making him appear brighter at night
than by day. His white mane and tail are almost blinding in this
moment. He stands by the river alongside Amdyth, whose entire,
snowy body gleams just as brightly.

“
Cyim!” I land before my
Terrene Father, planting my feet firmly into the ground in front of
him, and glare into his amber eyes. “I figured out what the
Infernal invader is. It’s a thlakeen—and you knew that too, didn’t
you? Why didn’t you tell me? I could have run into it—I deserved to
know what I would’ve been facing!”

Elaia, my child.
Cyim’s voice in my head carries an exasperated
sigh.
I promised I’d protect you, as I’ve
protected your sisters and predecessors for generations.

I expect him to hurl an
accusation disguised as a question—such as,
Why do you not listen to me?
or
Why would you question
me?

To my surprise, he
says,
The last time I encountered a
thlakeen, the Age of Unicorns had only begun, and no one has seen
the creature since long before our era ended. An entire age has
passed since then, and the world is centuries into another. I
believed that every last thlakeen had been rendered extinct
millennia ago—their bodies destroyed and their spirits driven into
the Infernal Realm. I could not be certain that the monster we
sought was indeed one of these long-gone creatures.

I blink at the unexpected explanation, then
lift my chin. My coming to him with the name of the creature must
have shown him that he could not keep such things from me any
longer. “Are you certain now?”

He shakes his head.
Nothing is certain any longer.

“
What does that mean?” Kiri
asks, and I realize that Cyim must have expanded his psychic circle
to include her in this conversation as well.

Amdyth is the one who
answers.
Nothing as powerful as a thlakeen
has escaped the Infernal Realm for thousands of years, and if one
has entered our domain, it means the magic that keeps the Infernal
confined is weakening. The beast’s presence is a sign.

“
Of what?” I ask
impatiently.

Amdyth turns her face
toward the stars, a touch of fear in her violet eyes.
The Age of Fire.

I shudder at those words. Beside me, Kiri
gasps, her hand flying to her mouth.

Like everyone else, we’ve heard tales of the
prophesied Age of Fire since we were born. Everyone knows the story
of how, in a time so long ago it hardly seems real, Amdyth went to
meet the first Sibyl—a woman chosen by the Celestial Realm to see
glimpses of the future. The Sibyl told Amdyth that someday the
Fiend would rise from his Infernal prison and consume the world.
Not just the Terrestrial, but the Celestial as well, defeating the
Divinity Herself and bringing about the dreaded Age of Fire, which
would last for all eternity. Though I never doubted the
account—Amdyth would never have allowed such a wild tale to spread
if it weren’t true—the foretold doom always seemed so distant. I
imagined I’d be dead for centuries before it came to pass.

But now, I’m not so sure. “Do you really
think the Age of Fire is near?”

As I said, nothing is
certain.
Cyim’s voice is taut—unnervingly
so, since he’s usually so calm.
This
monster could be a new kind of evil manifesting in the Terrestrial
Realm—one that imitates a thlakeen. After all, in the past the
thlakeen have preferred to attack humans, which are easier targets,
to gather strength before attempting to feed on the enchanted. We
could be wrong about its identity, which could keep us from
defeating it.

“
We’re not—this one
did
attack humans!” The
words burst from my mouth before I have a chance to
think.

Amdyth snaps her gaze
toward me.
How do you know?

I pinch my lips together, cursing myself for
the slip. But with the eyes of both unicorns fixed on me, I know
it’s too late to take them back. Besides, I still need to tell them
about the weakness that wasn’t mentioned in the bestiary, so I
suppose I would have needed a plausible excuse anyway. “A fairy
told me. She’d heard that a thlakeen attacked a small seaside
village.” The lie tumbles from my mouth.

A fairy would have informed
one of us before coming to you
. Amdyth
takes a step toward me, her deep gaze unforgiving.

The superiority in her words makes me scowl.
“She’d fled Kristakai and only returned briefly to tell someone
what she’d learned. I was the first one she encountered.” I speak
confidently—so confidently I almost believe my own falsehood. “She
trusted me to inform you—which I just did.”

Instead of questioning me further, Amdyth
turns to Kiri, who’s been standing in silence. No words float
through my head, though, which means Amdyth’s psychic words are not
meant for me.

Frustrated, I watch Kiri, whose wide eyes
radiate innocence. No one would doubt her, and my heart squeezes.
As long as she confirms my tale, I’ll get away with it.

Then Kiri glances at me,
guilt written all over her face. I wish I could communicate with
her psychically as the unicorns do, so I could say,
Don’t you dare betray my secret!
Why does it even matter where I got my
information when the thlakeen is still out there and could kill
again at any moment?

I cross my arms defiantly. “Why are you
wasting your time with these petty questions when I’ve just
confirmed the identity of an ancient evil?”

To my great annoyance, no one responds.

Amdyth must still be speaking to Kiri, for
the air nymph once again turns to face her Terrene Mother. Her long
hair swishes by her face as she shakes her head rapidly, and I
wonder what she’s responding to.

“
I’m sorry,” she murmurs.
“I … I can’t lie. It wasn’t a fairy who told Elaia of the
thlakeen—it was a human. She traveled outside and used her powers
to make him tell her everything he knew.”

Anger explodes in my chest, and I shoot Kiri
my deadliest look. “You rat! You swore!”

She glances at me, eyes full of apology.
“I’m so sorry. But what you did broke a law set in place to keep
the peace between the humans and the enchanted… The consequences
could be greater than you thought.”

“
It was one bandit!” The
look on her face is so pitiful, I want to slap her. Whatever Amdyth
said to her must have made her believe that my actions would cause
a war or something.

I’m not sure which one of them I’m angrier
at.

“
What a wonderful friend
you are,” I say sarcastically, not caring what the unicorns think
of me. They’ve already heard the worst, after all. “You barely kept
my secret for three flaps of a bird’s wing. I should have known
better than to trust you.” I start to say more, but Cyim’s voice
booms through my head.

Elaia!
He glares at me.
Do not fault Kiri
for telling the truth when you would break the laws, then lie to
cover your crime.

“
My
crime
brought us answers!” I glare
right back. “I did what no one else was willing to do! Do you care
at all about what I learned? The beast
is
a thlakeen! Even the humans think
so! That means we can defeat it!
And
I discovered its weakness! The
base of its skull is more fragile than the rest of it—that’s
something even
you
didn’t know!” I put my hands on my hips. “That’s what I came
here to tell you. Because while you’re standing here worrying about
some ancient laws,
I
actually want to destroy the monster.”

That’s enough.
Cyim’s tone is stern, but he sounds more
disappointed than angry.
Your information
may prove useful, but I cannot condone what you did to obtain
it.
He glances at Amdyth.
I will deal with her later. At the moment, more
urgent matters require our attention.

I agree.
Amdyth glances at me with a look that clearly
communicates her displeasure, but the expected lecture does not
come. Instead, she turns back to Cyim.
Gather the others. Though the thlakeen can walk on land, it
must return to saltwater to survive.