Wings of Tavea (2 page)

Kiora looked at the book warily, running her finger over the worn brown leather. “Epona said old magic is dangerous.”

“
All
magic is dangerous,” Drustan said, sitting back. “But it’s all determined by the user, now isn’t it? Old magic is used here, both for good and evil.”

“Is it more powerful than nature magic?” Emane asked.

Drustan’s head swiveled towards Emane.

“Don’t look so surprised. Aleric told me about it. I pay attention.” Emane cleared his throat. “Occasionally.”

“To answer your question,” Drustan said, “nature is the source of all magic. Old magic enhances it, allowing one to reach beyond. May I?” He held out his hand to Kiora. Taking the book he flipped through it, quickly finding what he was looking for. “Here,” he said, handing it back. “This should help protect us so we all can sleep.”

Kiora scanned the page. Although it appeared to be in her language, she could only recognize about half the words. The other words were magical terms and phrases she had never heard before. She pieced together the words she could decipher and the illustrations. “A magical barrier. Like the Hollow?”

“On a smaller scale, but yes.” Tapping the page, Drustan added, “This should be easier than what Eleana did. When she locked the old magic, she had to work within the confines of nature magic.”

Kiora walked around the perimeter of the camp while murmuring the incantation, a glittering wave of light following behind her. The wave was constructing a wall as she went, protecting them from the outside world. Smiling, Kiora finished the spell. At the last word the glittering wall flared red, crackling and popping, before melting down into nothing. Kiora jumped back. “What was that?”

Drustan chuckled. “The last word is not
heeon.
It’s
hayon
.”

Kiora huffed, checking the incantation before beginning again. She made her way around the camp, the light following behind her as before. Once the light encased them, she finalized the last word properly. The barrier flashed and was gone.

Kiora’s shoulders slumped. “What did I do wrong this time?”

“Nothing, it worked perfectly,” Drustan said, fluffing his pillow. “It vanishes so no one can see it, just like the Hollow.”

“But if they walked right through it . . .” Emane said slowly.

“Yes, they would find us. But the odds of that are slim.” Drustan waved Emane off. “Don’t go wandering out of it and we should be fine.”

“Oh, slim,” Emane replied shortly, spreading out his bedroll. “The odds are
slim
we will be eaten by an Aktoowa,
slim
we will be discovered.” Grabbing Kiora’s bedroll, he spread it next to his. “You always make me feel at ease, Drustan.”

Drustan placed his arms behind his head. “I could lie to you if you prefer.”

Shaking her head, Kiora kindled a fire on the ground between the three of them. The magical flame did not require wood, nor did it ignite the dead needles that carpeted the forest floor. She plopped on her bedroll and stretched her hands toward the fire, shivering.

Emane slid next to her, putting his arms around her. “You look cold.”

“I am. Does it seem colder to you? Colder than home?”

Drustan stretched out, rolling onto his side to face them. “It’s colder on this side of the mountain. I noticed it when we came through the pass into Meros the first time.” He smiled. “It snows here.”

“It snows at home,” Emane pointed out.

“Not like here. Meros gets just a taste. Here there are times when the snow banks will be taller than you.” He inclined his head towards Emane.

Emane rubbed his hand up and down Kiora’s arm, trying to warm her. “That sounds lovely,” he drawled, rolling his eyes.

Kiora scowled, trying to lock her magic down. Emane’s touch was making her stomach flip and magic leap inside her, wriggling like it was dying to get out. She hated hurting him, and the last time it slipped she’d shocked him. She didn’t want it to happen again.

Emane looked to Drustan. “Why did you leave?” he asked. “If you were so happy here?”

Drustan sighed deeply, a shadow passing across his face. “I was young and stupid.” He shook his head. “There were rumors flying of Witows and I was
dying
to see one.”

“A what?” Emane asked.

“A Witow, a non-magical creature. They are rare over here. So rare, in fact, that many of us believed them to be no more than a legend.”

“So, I am a—Witow.” Emane rolled the word over in his mouth like it was something unpleasant.

Drustan sat up on his elbow, his eyes bright. “Yes, but you are not just a Witow, you are a human.” He leaned forward in excitement as if willing them to understand the draw. “A Witow was rare enough, but humans were truly the things of myths and legends. A entire species made almost entirely of Witows!” Drustan shook his head. “The thought was ridiculous, but the rumors said a valley existed with a human camp.” Relaxing, he continued, “Most just laughed, but some of us were young enough—” Drustan’s lips pressed into a thin line before adding, “and stupid enough to go looking anyway. There is a reason you don’t go traipsing into unknown magical territory—you don’t know what wars are going on under the surface. But the idea of finding a human camp was of particular interest to a Shifter.”

He cleared his throat when Kiora’s eyebrows rose in an unspoken question. “I can’t shift into anything I haven’t seen,” Drustan explained. “I can piece things together easy enough.” He shrugged. “But perfectly imitate a species almost no one has seen? Impossible.”

“So you came to Meros to see if the rumors were true?” Kiora asked.

Drustan nodded. “A group of us Shifters came, all young and restless. At first it was just an excuse to set out on our own and get away from home. But the closer we got, the more we realized the valley was attracting an unprecedented amount of attention.”

“I don’t understand why a group of people with no magical ability would be so interesting to you all,” Emane grumped, putting his palms on the ground behind him and leaning back.

“It was unheard of. I suspect some were hoping that if they could learn how you were born without magic, they could learn how to strip it from their enemies. Now that would be a formidable weapon . . .”

“Wait a minute,” Emane interrupted, holding up his hand. “You mean they wanted to experiment on Witows just like you wanted to experiment on me?”

Drustan groaned, flopping flat on his back. “Are you going to hold that against me forever?”

“I might,” Emane said thoughtfully, leaning back again. “You could have killed me.”

Drustan eyed him. “I suppose ‘experiment’ would be an adequate description,” he admitted. Placing his hand back behind his head and staring up at the canopy, Drustan continued. “We were so excited when we got to Meros. We spent weeks practicing the human form, moving amongst them to see if they would notice. The fact that they couldn’t feel threads flabbergasted us.” He paused for a minute. “We were so engrossed in our new subjects we didn’t realize what was happening until the gate had already been sealed.”

“Did you ever try to get home?” Emane asked.

“Of course. We tried everything we could think of but the magic was tight. We even tried the border by the sea. We swam under, trying to make it out to the ocean. It was no use; the magical barrier went straight to the seabed. We waited and waited, hoping the gate would be opened. But after a few thousand years you lose hope.”

“How could you side with Dralazar after that?” Emane asked, resting his arm on his knee.

Drustan smiled grimly. “Don’t forget, Dralazar and Eleana
both
closed the gate. We hated them equally for a time. That is why we switched sides so often—it depended on who we were most angry with at the moment.” He stopped again, his jaw working. “Except for last time,” he said tightly.

“What changed?” Kiora asked.

“Dralazar showed his true colors. The things I saw him do—” Drustan’s voice broke, and Kiora saw a pain in his eyes that spoke to something he wasn’t saying before he turned his head away. “I swore I would never fight with him again,” Drustan finished, his voice wavering.

“What did he do?” Kiora asked, wanting to further understand Dralazar, but not really wanting to hear the answer.

Drustan slowly looked back at Kiora, his eyes haunted and empty. Clearing his throat, he returned his attention to the canopy. “You remember Orrin?”

“Of course.” How could she forget. He had lost his mate protecting Kiora from Dralazar.

“His mother was in charge of working with the Fallen Ones to find the Hollow during the last battle. The Guardians were clever—they set up an enclosure that mimicked the Hollow and then hid elsewhere. Orrin’s mother brought Dralazar to what they believed was the home of the Guardians for the final attack. When they found it empty Dralazar was furious. Had I been there, I . . .” Drustan gritted his teeth before rolling away, turning his back to them. “Dralazar pinned her to a tree, binding her arms and legs with magic. She tried to shift, but the Fallen Ones attacked on Dralazar’s orders. They sliced and burned until she had lost too much blood to shift. Then they left her there to die.”

Kiora’s heart ached for Orrin and his mother. But Drustan’s inability to look her in the eye scared her. Much worse had happened, she was sure. He just didn’t want to tell her.

“Dralazar wasn’t like that before, in the other wars?” Emane asked.

“He was more careful in the other wars. Or maybe I was just blinded by hate.”

Kiora stared at the fire, chewing on her bottom lip.

After composing himself, Drustan rolled back to face Kiora and Emane. “What is bothering you?” Drustan finally asked after staring at Kiora for some time.

She started. “Hmmm? Oh, nothing.”

“It would be wise to just tell me.” Drustan pointed out. “The other option is going to leave a hole in your lip.”

Kiora smiled. “Am I that transparent?”

“Yes,” Emane and Drustan answered together.

“Nice to see you two agree on something.” She laughed. “I was just confused, that’s all.”

“About?” Drustan urged.

Kiora rubbed her hands together over the fire. “I understand things happened with Dralazar, things that made you change your mind about him, but what about Eleana?” She glanced up at Drustan before looking back to her flickering distraction.

There was silence for a while, with the exception of the crackling fire, which Drustan was now also intently staring at. “Suffice it to say,” he began cautiously, “that I finally understood her pain.” Standing abruptly he added, “I am going to take a look around.” Without further explanation he strode out of the barrier and into the forest.

Kiora watched him go, her mind wandering. Epona said the Ancient One, Lomay, was on this side waiting for them. What if they didn’t find him? What if Lomay couldn’t find them? What was she supposed to do? Being the Solus wasn’t much use when she had no idea who to save.

CHAPTER TWO

Illusions

THROUGH HIS BUBBLE, DRALAZAR watched Layla pick her way through the rocky land that surrounded his cave. Interesting. He was sure Layla was aware that she shared the gift of magic with her sister, Kiora. But Dralazar would bet she unwittingly found her way here by following threads. Doing so had caused Layla’s thread to hum with her own magic.

She is angry, My Lord,
Raynor thought, stretching his wings out before laying them flat across his back.

Dralazar glanced over to the telepathic, black Pegasus.
Angry that I lied to her?

No, My Lord. She is angry at her sister.

A grin spread across Dralazar’s face. After the battle for Meros, Layla had surely known that Dralazar lied. Not only lied to her, but used her. Yet Layla’s anger was not directed at him, but at Kiora.

Layla tripped out of sheer exhaustion, crashing into a boulder three times her size. Leaning her forehead onto the rock she screamed, pounding her fists against it.

As he watched the pitiful display, a plan began forming in Dralazar’s mind. He detested taking on pupils; it’s why he didn’t teach Layla before the first battle. But now, given his need to cut Kiora as deeply as possible, training this one might be worth it.

Dralazar looked to his left. Soolan’s thread was closing in. The thickheaded dragon had finally picked up on Layla’s thread. Either that or the screaming caught his attention.

Shall we stop him?
Raynor asked.

“No.” Dralazar folded his arms. “Not yet.”

Soolan flew overhead, casting a large shadow over Layla. She froze. Dralazar could nearly taste her fear. Slowly Layla turned her head to see what she already knew was there. The dragon swooped in behind her, slamming into the earth and sending the small rocks that lay scattered between the boulders hopping across the ground. Layla stumbled to the side, trying to keep her feet beneath her as she frantically looked for something that did not exist—a place to run.

The giant dragon pulled its head down until it was eye-level with Layla. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t hear you?” Soolan bellowed.

Layla’s mouth gaped like a fish on land. She took a trembling step backwards.

Soolan’s eye was bloodied and swollen shut from Emane’s arrows. It only added to his hatred of anything human. He peered at Layla with his good eye. “I should incinerate you right now. You and your kind, worthless slime.”

Layla clenched her fists before shouting, “What are you waiting for, you big ugly lout? If you’re going to kill me, get it over with already.”

Dralazar laughed out loud.

“Stupid, too,” Soolan remarked.

Scowling, Layla glared at him. “If you don’t want to ‘incinerate’ me, then what do you want?”

“What do I want?” Soolan grinned, exposing rows of sharp teeth. “Incinerating you is on the list, make no mistake. But it’s so much more fun when I am close enough to see the fear in your eyes.” Leaning in further he demanded, “Why are you here?”

Layla took another step back, her ankle rolling on a rock. She sidestepped to keep on her feet. “I-I don’t know,” she stammered.