Wings of Tavea (19 page)

Stop, Kiora, you must control yourself. You do not understand what is looking for you. You must keep that bubble up.

Find somewhere to land, please,
Kiora spoke telepathically to Arturo. She was sure if she tried to use her voice, it would crack and she would dissolve into a sniveling mess.

Arturo came down neatly in between two trees. Kiora slid off his back, making a protective barrier like the one she had made when they first arrived. She was shocked to find how much magic she had left after the battle. She was still getting stronger.

The glittering light floated out of her fingertips, trailing behind her as she tied the trees together. The barrier snapped into place and disappeared. Arturo stepped through to join her.

Impressive.

Kiora just nodded.

Arturo settled on the ground and lifted up his wing.
All right, let it out. You have held on long enough.

Kiora practically ran to him, shoving herself under Arturo’s wing, which he wrapped around her, surrounding her in downy fluffiness and warmth. The noises that came out of her were some Kiora didn’t even recognize. Moaning, screaming, crying, choking. No sound seemed to adequately express her pain.

She had taken a life—lives, in fact. She had felt their threads go silent at her hand, never to be in this world again. Amplifying the pain was the knowledge that it would not be the last time. She would have to kill again. This world was not her world. It was not a world where she could choose mercy. There were too many creatures on evil’s side, too many eyes and ears to tell of the girl that showed them mercy. Then they, and all who had associated with them, would be hunted down like dogs. Kiora cried and screamed before finally going numb. She stared, unblinking, into the mass of feathers.

That’s enough.
Arturo abruptly stood, and Kiora found herself ripped from her downy cocoon.
You are entitled to your feelings,
he thought, looking down at her,
but now we must deal with them.

Kiora spoke in a monotone, not bothering to sit up. “I don’t want to deal with it.”

I see that. And tell me, how will this protect your friends?

“
They are better off without me,” Kiora said, pulling herself into a ball. “They will be left in peace.”

No, they won’t
.
Kiora!
Arturo stamped his foot down hard in front of her face.
Sit up and listen to me, now!

Kiora jumped. Arturo had rarely raised his voice to her. She pushed herself up to sitting, retaining her ball by wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on the top of her knee.

You are hurting, and even I do not understand the magnitude of your pain. But that does not change anything. The good you are fighting to save is on the brink of extinction. They have been waiting for the Solus to come, to give them a chance of fighting back against those who oppress them. You are the only one who has a chance of reversing the evil here.

Kiora shook her head. “I am making things worse, Arturo. Lomay already told me that things are waking up and starting to search because of my thread.”

Then instead of running away and crying, maybe it is time to train. To learn what they know, fight how they fight.

“I will have to kill.” She meant it as a statement. But her greatest desire—that it wouldn’t be true—twisted it into a question.

Yes.

She choked.

You are not a child any longer, and not everything in this world is black and white. Is it wrong to kill a killer?

Kiora just looked at him, her eyebrows knit together. The tears pooled in her eyes, causing the opalescent pegasus to swim in and out of focus.

Malena told me you would have difficulty with this concept.

Kiora smiled in spite of herself, pushing the tears over the dam. She loved Malena. “Malena told you to tell me these things?”

She told me to watch out for you. And that you still did not understand why you will need to take lives.
Kiora, life is sacred and something to be protected and honored.

“I know,” she said miserably.

Yes. But what you do not understand is that these things you are fighting do not feel the same way. They have murdered hundreds of thousands of innocent creatures because of what they believe. And they will continue to murder until there is nothing left. If you stand by and allow them to do as they wish, are you not as guilty as they?”

Although the pain did not lessen, an understanding began to fall into place. “If I don’t stop this . . . ”

Then you are just as guilty as they are.

“Either way I will be responsible for death.”

I am sorry.

* * *

BUBBLING HIMSELF, THE FOX, Emane, and Drustan was more than Alcander should have attempted. He realized it a little too late. They were nearing the magical barrier at cave entrance, but he wasn’t sure he would make it. To make matters worse, they had encountered a hunting Aktoowa a little ways back. The second the bubble dropped, the bird would be all over them. Squeezing his eyes shut, Alcander urged the fox onward, sweat dripping down his face.

“Are we going to make it?” Emane prodded over his shoulder.

“Don’t bother me right now,” Alcander gasped.

He couldn’t hold on. Alcander heard the Aktoowa’s scream as his thread escaped the bubble.

“Mother of Creators!” Alcander swore. He turned to see the bird abruptly changing directions. The fox sped forward as the Aktoowa closed the distance. They flew straight through the magical barrier, nearly slamming into the cliff as the Aktoowa screamed in rage over the sudden loss of their threads.

The flying fox landed hard and skidded forward, just as exhausted as Alcander. Gasping, Alcander rolled off the fox onto the ground. He was more drained than he had ever been. He rolled his eyes in annoyance, knowing Kiora could have done it without breaking a sweat. “I can’t believe she left us,” Alcander growled.

“It’s hard for her to think when she’s hurting so badly,” Emane tried to explain.

“Yes, well.” Alcander’s head flopped backwards, his chest heaving. “It’s hard for
me
to think when I’m dead. That thing was seconds away from having lunch.”

Emane squinted towards the mouth of the cave, shading his eyes with his hand. “Who’s that?” he asked, pointing.

Alcander rolled onto his side, peering over. A Shifter was stumbling out, his silver cuffs glinting in the light. He looked very ill, his face pale white, and he was barely able to place one foot in front of the other. Alcander scowled, weakly pulling himself to his feet. “What does he want? They usually don’t leave the camp.”

“Alcander!” the Shifter choked out. “Thank the Creators I found you.” He ran at Alcander, weaving across the parched ground.

“Is he sick?” Emane asked.

Alcander’s eyebrows were still tightly pulled together. Something was wrong. “I don’t know.”

The Shifter was breathless when he came to a stop before Alcander. “I needed to do something,” he mumbled, his eyes glassed over.

Alcander opened his mouth just as Drustan yelled in alarm, “His thread!”

The Shifter lowered his shoulder and drove it into Alcander’s chest, pushing him out of the boundary.

The Shifter screamed in agony as the bracelets he wore carried out the sentence of betrayal. His eyes rolled back in his head as his body seized. The Shifter was dead within seconds, falling on top of an already weak Alcander. Behind them, the Aktoowa screamed in delight, flying straight at the two magical creatures lying out in the open. Alcander was out of magic, pinned down and helpless. He looked up as the sun glinted off the Aktoowa’s beak. And then something was between him and it. Emane.

The Aktoowa slammed to the ground in front of them and took a predatory step in their direction, sniffing the air.

“Emane,” Alcander grunted, rolling the dead Shifter off him, his arms

still shaking from the exertion of getting them home. “Get inside.”

But Emane stood fast, his feet planted firmly on the ground. The Aktoowa pushed his giant beak against Emane’s chest, inhaling deeply before jerking his head back in disgust. Screaming, it leaned back on its feet, flapping its giant wings.

“Oh come on,” Emane yelled, grabbing his bow and an arrow. “I don’t smell that bad, you big ugly lout.” The Aktoowa turned to escape but never made it into the air. Nocking an arrow, Emane let it fly straight into the Aktoowa’s heart. It collapsed with a thud and didn’t move again.

“That was the dumbest, most ridiculous thing I have ever seen anybody do,” Alcander yelled at him, trying to stand but falling to one knee.

“You’re welcome, again.” Emane offered his hand and Alcander accepted, letting Emane pull him up.

“You are the oddest, most infuriating creature I have ever met.”

“Now really,” Emane said, shouldering his bow. “I can’t be dumb, ridiculous, infuriating,
and
odd.” Wiping his hands on his pants, Emane grinned. “Besides, it’s a good thing you keep me around, don’t you think?”

Alcander reluctantly smiled. “I suppose it is.”

Emane smirked. “Did you just smile? Not to make a big deal out of it or anything, but I think you may have some head trauma.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Exceptions

DRALAZAR THREW THE LATEST book he had been searching through across the room. It slammed into the wall with a
thud
before sliding down to the pile of books below it. Growling, he summoned another from the bookshelves. They were all covered with dust, some of the pages faded almost beyond recognition. Eleana had blocked the old magic thousands of years ago. There had been no need for them until now.

There had to be a way to undo the magic Eleana had infused Emane’s snake with. There is always an exception, always. But he had been looking for weeks and had yet to find it. Grimly, he looked back to his hand, eyeing the damage. Setting the book on his lap he reached with one finger, pulling his sleeve up. His mouth tightened. The track marks were red and angry and nearly to his shoulder. It was spreading, this curse of Eleana’s, destroying his magic one inch at a time. He didn’t know how much longer he had before it took it all. He shoved his sleeve back down with a hiss, grabbing the book off his lap.

The loud snick of each page as he flipped through the book kept him focused on the task at hand, so he didn’t give into his anger and light the useless pile of material on fire. He flipped past a page, paused, slowly turned back to it. Carefully he read over the text.
Infusing objects with magical protection
. He jerked up, scooting to the edge of his seat as he read. This was it, the spell Eleana had used.

The spell was complex. Not the incantation, but the amount of magic it required. Eleana would have been in a weakened state for a day or so afterward. That would have been useful had he known. Reaching the end of the page he read, and then reread it, before throwing the book across the room.

He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, listening to the repeated clink of his metal ring against the wood. Faster and faster he drummed, as the anger bubbled up inside him.
Raynor!
He mentally shouted. He could feel the Pegasus making his way down the hall into the library.

Yes, my Lord?
the black Pegasus thought as he entered the room.

Dralazar flung his arm to the side, sending the pile of discarded texts flying into the air. “Do you know what I have been looking for?” Dralazar bellowed over the sound of ripping pages and the slamming of books into walls and floors. “A cure for this,” he said, holding up his hand. “Apparently, I need the magic to be reversed by the owner of the magical piece. Which is a problem, because the owner of the magical piece has no magic.” The pages of the books tore themselves from their bindings, sending white and beige parchment fluttering to the ground. “I need to find Eleana now!”

My Lord, the old magic is specific in its instructions. If it says—

“
I know what it says,” Dralazar snapped. Turning, he flipped his cloak behind him as he strode across the room. “Do you know who Kiora is, Raynor?”

My Lord?

“She is the Solus, Raynor.
The
Solus.”

Raynor’s head turned to the side.
The Solus? For . . .
The Pegasus trailed off as he looked towards the cave’s exit, the exit that opened to the mountain pass.

“Yes!
She
is the reason I blocked us off from the rest of the world in the first place. To keep the Solus from interrupting my plans in Meros, to keep it under my control, to keep evil here.” He whirled on Raynor. “And then, and
then—”
he yelled, “she is born
inside
the gate. Away from the world she was supposed to save, raised in a world free of evil. Which happened to be the perfect breeding ground. And Eleana—” He breathed through his nose. “She knew, she
knew
Kiora was the Solus and she tricked me into opening the damn gate.”

We have to stop her,
Raynor thought.

Dralazar chuckled, twirling his ring on his finger. “We have to stop her.” Dralazar crossed the room in a few steps, staring down the Pegasus. “
I
know
we have to stop her. But how?” he hissed, spreading his arms wide in sarcastic questioning. “How exactly? She is already through the gates. The prophecy has already begun to unfold. And I am losing more magic everyday. I can not do anything until I am healed of this.” He shoved his hand under the Pegasus’ nose. “We are running out of time.”

The Pegasus eyed the injury, looking slowly up to meet his master’s gaze.

You need to be healed,
Raynor thought deliberately.

“Yes, I need . . .” Dralazar trailed off, his arm dropping back to his side. “He can heal,” he murmured, his eyes darting around the room. “The bloody Witow can heal.”