Wings of Lomay (20 page)

“Someday, when this war is over and I have something to offer you besides a life of hiding with rebels, we can see if it fits.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

He kissed her forehead. “It’s magicked. It always fits.”

“Alcander?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t care if you have a castle or not.”

“That’s good,” he said, running his thumb over her cheekbone. “Because I don’t.”

Kiora burst out laughing.

Alcander sent the ring back to wherever he summoned it from and picked her up as he stood. “You need to get some sleep.”

“Wait,” Kiora said. “There was one more thing I wanted to see.”

Alcander’s face darkened as he gently lowered her to the ground. “Kiora, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She walked over to the only framed painting in the room and pulled it off the wall. A lump formed in her throat at the third-person view of what she had already experienced. Her painted image was standing with her hand outstretched toward Lomay, who was melting away in a swirl of gold magic.

Kiora leaned her head on Alcander’s shoulder. “I miss him.”

Alcander wrapped his arm around her waist, squeezing her tight. “I miss him too.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Destroyer

KIORA STARED OUT THE front window. She felt the horde of threads approaching for the winter solstice celebration. They had hours yet, but Alcander told her that many arrived early to be as close to the edge of the cliff as possible.

Emane walked up next to her. “How are you doing?”

Kiora shrugged. “Lately, I have been trying to think of anything besides how I am doing.” She turned her back to the window, leaning against the sill.

“What do you need me to do tonight?”

“I need you to be in the enclosure with Alcander. The slaves will need someone to defend them if the worst-case scenario happens.”

“And what about you?”

Kiora had determined what it was she needed to do, but the truth of it made her ill and she didn’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it. She looked away. “I will distract Jasmine.”

Emane shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Emane huffed. “You aren’t telling me something. I know because you won’t look me in the eye.”

Kiora forced herself to look at him. “Have you ever known something horrible, but you know if you talk about it, it will just make it worse?”

Emane’s eyes widened fractionally before he broke eye contact. “Yes.”

“It’s a little like that.”

“You aren’t planning on getting yourself killed, are you?”

“Emane.”

He held up his hands. “I had to ask.”

She turned back to look outside. The snow had continued for most of the night, leaving a few inches on the ground. It glittered as the sun bounced off it, masking the brown and rocky landscape in sparkling white wonder. The trees in the distance had also been draped in snowy white sashes, completing the masquerade.

“The snow is so pretty. I never knew it could look like this.”

Emane leaned forward, resting his elbows on the window sill. “I know.”

“I went to the library last night,” she said abruptly. “I saw what made you so upset.”

Emane jerked up. “What?”

His tone was so shocked, so horrified, she immediately regretted saying anything. “I’m sorry. I just . . . I wanted to see what had made you upset enough to throw things.”

“What—what did you see?”

Kiora looked up at him in confusion. He was gripping the edge of the window frame so hard, his knuckles were white. His eyes were wide and haunted. “I saw the vision of me and Alcander.”

To her confusion, Emane seemed to relax, sagging forward. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“
You
didn’t paint it.”

She nudged him with her elbow. “You know what I mean.”

He glanced over at her and sighed. In that moment, Kiora saw profound sadness, and her heart ached that she couldn’t fix it. He turned his attention back to the snowy landscape, pressing his forehead to the window. He looked hopeless, resigned—she hated it.

“You don’t need to apologize for your feelings, Kiora.”

She wanted to scream, hot tears of frustration building up behind her eyes. She swallowed, trying to ensure that her tone would be even when she spoke. “I’m not apologizing for my feelings. I’m apologizing because I wish you weren’t hurting.”

Neither one of them knew what to say after that. Emane found an excuse to leave and Kiora stayed, looking out the window, feeling the threads continue to multiply. The cold seeped in around the window panes and her fingers chilled. She was dreading the next few hours in so many ways. But dreading it did not change it.

She needed to talk to Arturo. She made her way down the hall, following Arturo’s thread, but when she tried to open the door, it slammed into something. Frowning, she pushed again, throwing her shoulder into it. A flying fox yipped and skittered backwards, exposing its teeth as she poked her head outside. “Sorry.” Kiora slid out. “But try lying somewhere besides right in front of the door.”

They can’t understand you,
Arturo said.

Haven’t you ever tried to talk to something that didn’t understand you?

Of course not. What a dreadful waste of time.

Kiora tiptoed around three foxes on her way to Arturo. He turned and walked alongside her to the edge of the cliff.

The ships have returned.

The same ships that were here last time were now sailing back up the coastline. She shook her head. “They will have to be dealt with before they can enter the fight.”

Which fight?

Kiora knew he was just being polite. There was no way he hadn’t heard enough of her thoughts to know what she was planning. “The one I’m going to start. I have been meaning to talk to you, but I was worried you wouldn’t approve.”

Would it matter if I disapproved?

“
It would make it harder.” The wind picked up and the icy spray from the ocean misted across them. Kiora shivered. “I am going to need your help. The only way I foresee this succeeding is if I can carry out some of the attack from the air.” She frowned, mumbling to herself. “Or if I could figure out how to tap in to nature.”

I will help, Kiora. I will always help.

Kiora smiled, leaning against his side. “Thank you.”

Are you sure you’re ready for this?

Her smile faltered. “No. But it has to be done. Their numbers are too many, Arturo. I have to take them down.”

***

THE THREADS INCREASED EACH minute as more and more of Jasmine’s followers joined the celebration. Kiora stood outside the front of the manor, within the confines of the barrier, monitoring—waiting for the group of rebel slaves. No matter what she had planned, rescuing the slaves was the priority, and they could not risk being discovered until she had located them.

Behind her, Drustan shifted into a winged version of his long reptile creature to carry Emane and Alcander closer to the celebration when it was time. Emane paced back and forth in her peripheral view, grasping and releasing the hilt of the sword that sat at his hip. Every so often, he stopped to stretch out his shoulders, rolling them up and back. His nerves added to her own. Alcander stood next to her, his arms crossed and eyes closed. The muscles in his neck were taut and Kiora could feel the agitation from him as well—there were too many of the enemy.

A new group of threads finally appeared and the air rushed out of her. “They’re here,” she announced.

Kiora climbed onto Arturo while Emane and Alcander climbed onto Drustan. She threw a bubble over all of them and they headed toward the celebration.

Despite the circumstances, Kiora could not help but appreciate the beauty. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the ocean in pink and orange and glittering gold. The cliff’s edge seemed to be glowing as the last of the lights splashed up the side, illuminating the rim. Approaching the cliff were thousands of the enemy—Taveans, Omelians, Winged people and more. All dressed in their finest, each holding some sort of light. Some held glowing magical spheres—others carried torches or candles. No matter where she looked, light bounced as the snow picked up every flicker and threw it back into the air. The mood was joyous and infectious, and in sharp contrast to the darkness of the threads that ran through her.

Kiora felt the threads of the slaves, but couldn’t see them. Where were they? “Drustan, we need to land. The enclosure must be ready before Jasmine arrives.”

Drustan landed approximately fifty feet from the farthest reveler. Kiora quickly put up the enclosure, leaving Emane and Alcander standing beneath Drustan’s giant reptilian body as she and Arturo took back to the sky.

***

SHE FLEW OVER THE celebration, following the threads of good—the threads of the slaves. Finally she spotted them, in the middle of everyone, encircled by Taveans and Shifters who watched the skies.

Where is Jasmine?
Arturo thought as he circled back around for another pass over the slaves.

“She’s probably bubbled, waiting to see what I will do.” Kiora pulled the sheath off her talisman, opening her mind completely to Arturo so they could work as one.

The revelers below them stilled, looking around for the Shadow. Kiora waited as well, wondering if Jasmine would reveal herself—she did not.

Let’s go,
Kiora thought.

Arturo swooped down and caught one of the Tavean guards in the head with his hooves. It knocked him out immediately, and the momentum pushed him into the three guards behind him—clearing a spot for Arturo to land.

Kiora dropped her bubble. She threw a domed shield that wrapped around her and the slaves. The group of rebels were as shocked as the enemy, looking up and around at the shield in wonder. With the element of surprise on her side, Kiora didn’t waste any time. She called wind, shoving it out in all directions, pushing the enemy back.

She assessed the situation. A large number of Jasmine’s followers stood between the slaves and the safety waiting them on the other side. She flipped her wrist, pulling the wind into a tight spiral, and sent it tearing through the crowd. Taveans and Omelians were flung out of the way.

“Go!” she yelled to the bewildered slaves. Arturo rose off the ground within her shield. “We have to move fast.”

There was a moment’s hesitation that felt like eternity. Then one of the Omelians grabbed a Winged man and a Tavean who stood near him. “Go,” he yelled, shoving them forward. That was all it took. They began to run, pushing toward freedom.

Arturo flew just above their heads so Kiora could see where to direct the wind tunnel. She pulled the whirlwind from side to side, picking off any enemies who dared venture into her path. Some of the enemy pushed in behind her, bouncing off her shield, but most were so unprepared at the loss of magic that they stumbled about in chaos.

The slaves broke through the edge of the gathering, leaving the enemy behind. There was now nothing in front of them but miles of barren coastline. Their running slowed and their heads turned this way and that, searching for something they couldn’t see. Kiora looked out with them, seeing it through their eyes. Their path appeared less like an escape and more like certain death. They had no idea that salvation was waiting for them beneath a barrier.

Arturo sped forward, flying her above the slaves. “You will have to trust me,” she called over the roar of the wind. “Run straight. You will find King Alcander, a Shifter, and a Witow. They will get you to safety.”

She couldn’t see their reactions, but she felt their unease. And she couldn’t blame them. She was asking them to have blind faith with their lives on the line.

The crowd pushed and pounded against the back of her shield, trying to get to the escaping slaves. They then moved to the sides of her shield, trying to circumvent her protection. She dissolved the whirlwind and turned, transforming it into a wall of gale-force winds, and shoved it toward the enemy. The wind picked up those closest to her shield and blew them into those behind. They struggled to their feet, putting their shoulders into the wind and trying to force their way forward, but the wind was strong, and the power kept them at bay.

She threw a hurried glance back to confirm that the slaves were running in the right direction. They didn’t turn back, but she saw their confusion and stress in their broken and awkward gaits as they looked around for their invisible salvation. And then they started disappearing, one by one, into the enclosure she had built around Drustan. One rebel veered to the side, about to miss it entirely. Emane appeared and jerked him inside.

And then the moment she had been waiting for. A scream she was overly familiar with burst through the sound of the attacking mob. A black swirling Shadow appeared. The crowd shrieked, falling back as the Shadow advanced. There was no loyalty here, only unabated fear.

The Shadow began heaving—growing. But this time, Kiora knew what lay in the middle. Dropping her shield, she threw out a wave of magic with everything she had. It was white, tinged with green around the edges. It ripped forward, tearing through Jasmine’s shadowy covering.

The Shadow shrank, wrapping closer around Jasmine, but she managed to retain it. A moment later, red and black magic rippled out. Kiora threw the strongest shield she could and the magic connected like thunder, booming across the sky before sizzling around her. It rattled her bones. Kiora wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that her shield had held, or terrified that Jasmine hadn’t given it her all. She didn’t know how many of those hits she could take.

Arturo, search for me.

If she was going to go through with this with as clear a conscience as she could muster, she had to make sure there were no rebels wrapping their threads, hiding amongst the enemy. She needed Arturo to check as many of their thoughts as he could.

Jasmine threw out another black and red ribbon that rippled toward her, looking for a target. It was smaller than the first, but connected with the same boom, and Kiora’s shield thinned under the attack. Her ears rang from the sound. The second Jasmine’s magic cleared, Kiora opened a hole, releasing the usual tight hold she kept on her magic. She loosed a white-hot assault as Arturo swooped down.