Wings of Lomay (16 page)

Emane yelped, jerking back as the acid spit ate through his skin. “I didn’t do anything!” he yelled, hurriedly healing his hand.

Alcander strode over, giving him a congratulatory pat on the back. “He liked you. A lot.”

Emane looked at him incredulously. “So, if it hates me, it spits at me. If it loves me, it licks me? Both end in the same result,” he sputtered.

“Don’t let him lick you,” Alcander said.

Drustan jumped back from a pen, yanking his hand protectively behind his back as another fox barred its teeth at him. “Why do they always hate Shifters?”

Alcander rushed over, shushing the agitated fox. “Because your kind is not very likable,” he said.

“Funny as always, Your Majesty,” Drustan said, glaring at the fox like it was a demon’s spawn.

This continued for hours, Alcander coaxing the foxes into liking Drustan—some were far more resistant to his presence than others. Emane, on the other hand, learned quickly to be prepared, leaping back as fox tongues whipped out from between bars.

“Who knew they would be so fond of Witows?” Alcander said.

“Yours didn’t like me,” Emane pointed out, skittering back as a fox chirped happily at his presence.

“That’s because
I
didn’t like you.”

Drustan crouched down in front of some lower bars on the other side of the stables. “Now these guys I like.”

“What are they?” Emane asked.

“Marlocks.”

Emane knelt down to look in. The creatures were twice as long as he was, with short, muscular legs and faces that looked like miniature bears. They came in all colors and were leaping and wrestling with each other. Black, brown, white, and reddish fur, all rolling around the pen.

Alcander came up behind them. “The Marlocks’ main strength is their intelligence. They have the ability to understand speech.”

“That, and their speed is unrivaled,” Drustan marveled. “How did you catch them?”

The voices brought the Marlocks out of their wrestling match and running toward them. The first two skidded to a stop, looking intensely curious before the rest of the group collided with them, slamming into the door.

“We caught two of them a long time ago. The rest were been born here,” Alcander said.

Kneeling down, Alcander explained to the Marlocks what he needed. Intelligence glittered in their eyes as they nodded their understanding

“Are you sure?” Emane asked.

“They will be fine. They’re fast enough not to get caught and their threads won’t raise alarm.” Alcander stood and held out his staff, running the light across the walls.

Drustan plucked a key off a hook. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

Alcander took it and inserted it into a small hole near the top of the door. The door shimmered, then dissolved before their eyes. The Marlocks burst from their cage. Alcander opened the next three doors as well, each full of Marlocks. The creatures ran and rolled through the room at lightning speed.

“How long has it been since they’ve been out of these cages?” Drustan asked, leaping out of the way of two rolling Marlocks.

“I don’t know,” Alcander said. “Too long.”

A Marlock clipped Emane with his tail and he fell backwards, landing hard. He scrambled back up before he was trampled by the others.

“Go,” Alcander said to the creatures. “I will call you when it’s time.”

Each and every Marlock stilled, gave a small bow with their heads, and rushed up the stairs.

***

TOO EXHAUSTED TO HOLD on to it anymore, Kiora let her mind connection with Alcander slip closed.

Arturo nudged her cheek.
Sleep. I will be back as soon as I can.

Grateful for permission, she dropped off. The dreams started immediately.

Her mother leaned over her, placing a cool rag against her forehead, telling her it would be all right. It played over and over again, her mother’s green eyes looking anxiously down at her.

Too soon, her mother left, and the dreams turned to nightmares. She tossed and turned, telling herself to wake up, but she couldn’t. She was trapped in her own mind with Morcant and Drustan, Taveans in water bubbles, and Aimon. Each of them dying over and over again. Morcant’s death came with the soul-wrenching pain of losing a friend while the others came with the soul-twisting guilt of killing. Her hands dripped with blood. She scraped at her palms and the back of her hands, trying to remove it, but the blood remained. It was a part of her. When the darkening edge that indicated a vision invaded her nightmares, she threw herself into it headlong.

She found herself in an open and airy room. It looked like the inside of a castle, with white-and-beige marble floors, two-story windows opening out to a balcony, and a chandelier attached to the top of a steep and intricately decorated dome. The chandelier was crystal and glittered beautifully in the rays of the setting sun coming through the windows, throwing mini rainbows around the ceiling and walls.

A fire roared in the fireplace and she noticed the tops of two heads, barely visible over the backs of two high-back chairs. Coming around the side, Kiora craned her neck to see who it was. She gasped and leaped back. Jasmine and Enzo, the new leader of the armies of Tavea, sat staring into the fire. Both seemed unaware of her presence and she reminded herself to relax. It was just a vision.

“They have to be somewhere,” Jasmine said.

“We think the rebels may have made it around the lake and are traveling back toward the canyon where we nearly captured Lomay.”

“All of them, Enzo?” Jasmine snarled. “How is that possible?”

“We have the lake surrounded, my lady. No one gets in or out.”

Jasmine tapped the edge of her chair with long, delicate fingers. “Can’t they? It is my understanding that you have had several incidents.”

Enzo paled, his thick, stocky frame shrinking in his chair.

Kiora couldn’t help but notice how strange fear looked on him.

“You have seen what happens to those who fail me.” Jasmine slowly reached out a finger and trailed it down his cheek, her nail biting into skin. “Lying does not yield less lenient results, Enzo.”

“My apologies.” He bowed his head. “The Solus and Alcander have left the city. We are using their absence to our advantage.”

“How so?”

“We can’t penetrate the entrances. Instead, we are attempting to break through the enclosure beneath the lake.”

Kiora saw a faint flicker of amusement pass over Jasmine’s face. “Continue.” She motioned, leaning back in her chair.

“We are wrapping Dragon fire in magic and sending it to the bottom. Hopefully we will be able to break through soon.”

“Dragon fire,” she said smoothly, nodding.

Kiora was confused. Dragon fire would do nothing against that barrier. Jasmine, in all her power, could barely open a hole, and even then she wasn’t strong enough to fully dispel the barrier. One break in concentration and the hole would have slammed shut. Jasmine knew it too, so why wasn’t she telling Enzo?

“Yes, my lady. We will continue the assault—you have my word. And we are ready and waiting for the return of the Solus.”

“You assume she will return?”

“She has proven herself to be overly soft-hearted. She will not leave her rebels there to die.”

“Perhaps . . .” Jasmine cooed with such kindness, it sent fear stabbing though Kiora. Enzo as well, judging by the way he scooted himself to the other side of his armchair, looking as if he wanted to crawl over the edge and scramble out the door. “Instead of sitting around waiting for them to come to you, you should force the rebels out.”

Enzo frowned. “How would we do that?”

Her head whipped around to face him, her green eyes flashing. “Have you no imagination? Why must I lay out every step? I might as well do it myself.”

“I’m sorry, my lady,” Enzo stammered. The muscles in his neck were tight and bulging, his eyes wide.

“Think about it, Enzo,” she hissed. “Just . . .” She trailed off, going rigid in her chair. “Go,” she demanded.

Enzo stood immediately, dropping into a deep bow. “We will do better.”

Jasmine sat stiffly until the doors closed behind Enzo. She stood, walking closer to the fire as if to warm her hands. “How dare you?” she said to the empty room. “How dare you come here?”

Kiora took a step back in confusion. She wasn’t really here, was she? This was just a vision.

The bright green silk dress Jasmine was wearing rippled behind her as she turned and walked around the room. “I can feel you, Solus, I know you are here.” She turned around, her eyes running past Kiora, but not seeing her. “How dare you ask for a vision of me?” Kiora realized with a jolt that her vision had taken her here, with Jasmine, in the time it was happening. Not after, not before. Jasmine thought she had come on purpose, that she had called it.

Jasmine summoned a Light, holding it up in her hands. The ball was dull and lifeless, just as all the rest were, but as Jasmine placed a finger in between two of the cords that bound it, the Light flared back to life. Closing her eyes, she turned her head to the side, her eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

Kiora’s heart pounded. What was Jasmine doing?

“A Tavean,” Jasmine breathed with a smile. “That is how you did it.”

“No,” Kiora whispered. “No, no, no!” She tried to pull herself out of the vision, but it wouldn’t release her.

Jasmine tapped the Light, her lips pursed. “Taveans are so very particular with their minds—I am surprised. You must be very persuasive.” She looked around the room again as if she would be able to see Kiora. “I think it’s time you and your accomplice are taught a lesson. A little mental pressure on our Tavean friend should be very uncomfortable.” She closed her eyes, concentrating, as magic from the Light began to swirl around her.

Kiora panicked, mentally pulling and yanking against the vision. Still nothing. She watched, helpless, as Jasmine focused her energies on Alcander.

***

ALCANDER STOOD NEXT TO Drustan, ready to intervene, as the last flying fox sniffed his hand.

“We will release the foxes when Arturo arrives,” Alcander said, heading toward the stairs. A sudden blinding pressure started in his temples, quickly wrapping around his forehead. He stumbled backward, falling into the wall.

“Everything all right?” Drustan asked.

“Fine,” Alcander said, straightening. He made it up three stairs before the pain intensified. Grunting, he fell forward.

“Emane, grab him,” Drustan said, pulling him to his feet. Emane placed Alcander’s other arm over his shoulder.

Emane searched him for injuries. “What’s the matter?”

“My head,” Alcander groaned. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Emane placed his hand over Alcander’s forehead, trying to heal whatever was ailing him. It made no difference.

“It’s not helping,” Alcander said through clenched teeth. Excruciating pain exploded behind his eyes and traveled down the base of his neck.

“I have enough magic,” Emane said, looking over at Drustan. “I don’t understand why it’s not helping.”

“Come on,” Drustan said, dragging them up the stairs. “There is nothing wrong with his head. This headache is from outside magic.”

“I have healed magical injuries before.”

“No, you have healed the physical result of a magical blow. If I had to guess by your inability to heal him, his pain is resulting magic that is still in effect.”

The voices of the two pounded through Alcander’s ears, grating on his already frayed nerves. “Stop. Talking.” he said between clenched teeth as they half helped, half carried him up the stairs. Normally he would have been mortified by his helplessness, but he hurt so badly that he could hardly register his embarrassment.

The courtyard was barely lit by a slim crescent moon as they exited the stable, but the faint glow was enough to add to his pain. They were only halfway to the castle when Alcander grunted, jerked himself free of their support, and vomited.

He wiped his arm across his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut. “Arturo said we have to get some warm clothes,” he said weakly. “For the journey. And I need . . . some sleep.” Clenching his staff, he tried to stand back up, but he stumbled. The pressure inexplicably increased and he dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around the back of his head. The sound of a woman laughing jangled in his throbbing mind. Alcander yelled out, curling himself into a ball.

“Emane, find us all some warm clothes. I am going to take Alcander up.” Drustan sprouted wings from his back. He bent down and wrapped his arms around Alcander’s middle.

“I had no idea opening my mind to Kiora would open it to everyone,” Alcander groaned as Drustan flew them to one of the upper balconies. He felt like a child as Drustan carried him through the frame of the shattered glass door and set him on the edge of the bed. His stomach heaved again and he gripped the edge, trying to force the nausea down.

“You would have done it anyway,” Drustan said, walking back toward the door. He spread his wings and was gone.

Curling himself back into a ball Alcander wrapped his hands over his head, trying to shut out the pain and protect his thoughts behind walls.

***

JASMINE OPENED HER EYES. “Despite the pain to your Tavean friend, you are still here. Surely you must realize it is your presence that is allowing me access to him.”

Kiora had realized and was frantically throwing herself against the vision, trying to be free of it. She had always been able to pull out, but this time was different. She couldn’t escape, just like she couldn’t wake up from her nightmares. Fear shot through her. Just how sick was she?

Jasmine pursed her lips before vanishing.

Kiora breathed easier. She looked around the empty room, hoping it was over—that whatever pain Jasmine had inflicted on Alcander had stopped. A moment later, the black began to seep in around the edges of her vision and she sagged in relief, nearly laughing with joy—it was over. But instead of waking up, she appeared in front of the slave camp—right next to Jasmine.