Warriors of Wing and Flame

by Sara B. Larson

“As you can see,” Ederra said, taking her same seat, “things in Vamala haven’t gone as we’d hoped. This is my other granddaughter, Inara.” And with that, she launched into the entire story we’d told her.

  As she spoke, I tried to force myself to focus on her, not to let my mind wander to Vamala and wonder what had happened to Zuhra, my family, and Halvor after we’d disappeared. Would they be able to figure out where we’d gone? Would Halvor and my sister know I was alive—that Loukas and I had both survived? For the first time since we’d gone through that tear into Visimperum, it occurred to me they might assume we were dead—that they would have believed Barloc might have killed us both.

  Don’t give up on me, Zuhra. I’m still here.

  Halvor … please know I’m still alive.

  For now.

  * * *

  The hedge surrounded me on all sides; it had grown, lengthening to hide the citadel from view, trapping me in the gardens I had once tended that were now sun-scorched, brown, and dead.

  My family stood across from me, all three of them with arms crossed, scowls on their faces.

  Halvor stood beside me. I wanted him to take me in his arms, to kiss away my guilt and pain, but he kept his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers. He didn’t glare at me, but the love I’d once seen when he looked at me was gone, his normally warm brown eyes changed to the color of frozen soil.

  “You have to do something, Inara.” Zuhra had never spoken to me in that tone before, harsh as a winter wind.

  “You were supposed to save us, not doom us,” Mother added, her lip curled in disgust.

  “That jakla exists because of you. Now no one can stop him.” My father’s eyes flashed with burning fury.

  “My uncle is gone forever—because of you. If you hadn’t given him your power, none of this would have happened,” Halvor spat. “And now I’ll never get him back.”

  I tried to speak, to tell them it wasn’t my fault, to apologize, to beg for their forgiveness, but when I opened my mouth, their accusations, their hatred and spite, filled it and choked the words away.

  “Do you know how many have died—because of you?”

  The hedge loomed closer, inching forward as they spoke, leaves peeled back, exposing the deadly barbs beneath, like an animal snarling.

  I shook my head, tears gathering in my eyes.

  I’m sorry, I’m so sorry …

  But the words wouldn’t come out. I couldn’t breathe and—

  A touch on my shoulder jerked me awake with a stifled gasp. My heart slammed against my ribcage; sweat slipped down my spine. I blinked several times, disoriented and confused. I was sitting on the ground, my knees pulled up to my chest, my head tipped back against a wall.

  “You fell asleep,” Loukas whispered. He crouched beside me. “I would have let you keep resting, but it seemed like you were having a nightmare.”

  I stared at him, the horrific dream still fresh and painful. Did my family really feel that way? Did Halvor?

  “I’ll send out two patrols right away. If he’s still here, we’ll find him.”

  Slowly, I remembered where I was—and what was happening. The meeting to decide what to do about Barloc and the threat he posed to the Paladin and human worlds.

  “Thank you, Yemaya,” Ederra responded. “If we can’t find him within the next twelve hours, we will implement the contingency plan.”

  With a few low murmurs, everyone around the table stood, and within moments, the room had emptied out—all except for Loukas and my grandmother.

  “I’m sorry I fell asleep.” I flushed, humiliated that I’d missed such an important meeting—one that had been called because of me. Though I hoped the hatred I’d felt in my dream had been just a projection of my own fears and not reality, the truth remained: Barloc was a jakla now because of me. If it weren’t for my power, he never would have been able to head down this path.

  “I should have offered to let you rest. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal.”

  “No, I wanted to be—”

  A sharp stab of pain suddenly pierced my chest, so intense, it doubled me over.

  “Inara? What is it?”

  I dimly heard Loukas’s question as I clutched at the clean shirt right over my heart, pushing my fist into my breastbone, trying to drive the pain away. The intensity of it stole my breath; I searched for the little bit of power I’d taken back from Barloc, but it flickered feebly and went out, leaving only the expanding emptiness.

  No, no, no.

  I fought back, tried to calm my racing heart, to force the fissure cracking through Raidyn and Zuhra’s healing back together, refusing to let it crumble apart. Not here. Not now. I wasn’t sure how long it took before it finally passed, somehow, mercifully holding—for a little longer—leaving me panting and shaken.

  I slowly straightened. Loukas and Ederra both watched me, Loukas with eyes hooded and Ederra with thinly veiled apprehension.

  “What was that?” I wasn’t sure if she was asking me or Loukas, but thankfully he saved me the effort by answering.

  “I believe that was the healing beginning to fail. Again.”

  I wasn’t positive—it was there and gone again so fast—but it looked like fear flickered across his face.

  Ederra’s brows furrowed. “You said it took Raidyn and Zuhra to heal her—a healer and an enhancer?”

  Loukas nodded. “Are there any enhancers here at the castle right now? I’m afraid she’s going to need to be healed again sooner than later.”

  Ederra pressed her fingers against her temples. “Yes, Zeph is here. But I’m trying to think of which healer is strong enough to be able to do this with him. If he’s even strong enough to do this—to save her.”

  My heart finally slowed, my breathing returned to normal, and the shakiness abated. But I was still unsettled, frightened by the suddenness and severity of the attack. And Ederra’s words turned me cold with alarm.

  What if the Paladin here weren’t strong enough to heal me?

  How long did I have before whatever Zuhra and Raidyn had done the second time failed completely—and all of it, all the effort to save me, was for nothing?

  THIRTY-THREE

  ZUHRA

  The darkness was no longer sweet, as it once had been. It was heavy and pulsing and insistent. It filled every thought …

  Every feeling …

  Every piece of me.

  I was lost and falling deeper. There was only this abyss—

  This unrelenting oblivion.

  Tug.

  I wasn’t even sure what the curious sensation was, it was so far removed from my memory.

  Tug.

  A flicker of something, so faint, I almost missed it. I couldn’t remember what it was, only that I had once known it.

  Flicker.

  Tug.

  Flicker.

  Light.

  That was what it was, I recalled sluggishly. It was a flicker of light, trying to push the darkness aside.

  But the blackness was everywhere.

  So strong, so complete … in my nose, in my eyes, in my ears, in my heart and blood and soul.

  Tug.

  A flash of blue-fire eyes.

  Tug.

  A flush of heat from a kiss.

  Tug.

  A soul that recognized me, that had intwined itself indelibly into mine.

  Raidyn.

  The moment I remembered his name, the light, though small, surged forward, driving through the inky black until it reached me. The once-familiar brush of his soul against mine made me shudder. He spoke without words, a feeling given meaning, as his light tangled with the darkness inside me, battling to unravel its immovable grasp, its inky claws trying to drag me away from him and light and anything but everlasting darkness.

  Come back to me.

  Fight it.

  Fight for me.

  I was weak and frightened, and I knew there were reasons I should stay in the dark; pain and guilt and horror that awaited
me if I let him pull me back into the light.

  But Raidyn was also there.

  And my family.

  Inara.

  No. Not Inara.

  The darkness pulsed. Pain, too dark and deep to bear, bared its teeth.

  But Raidyn’s light, his gentle, beautiful soul, refused to let go. I felt him wrap that healing light around me, filling me with it. Softly at first—careful, so careful … but as the darkness slowly, angrily receded, the light grew stronger, brighter, warmer, until it filled me as completely as the black oblivion had.

  Together. We’ll face whatever comes together.

  Soul to soul, he spoke to me without sound.

  Come back to me.

  I love you.

  A radiant beam, of light and hope and knowing, as warm and powerful as anything I’d ever experienced, pierced through the darkness, a straight shot to my heart. Words spoken without sound, soul to soul, left no room for doubt or disbelief. There was only wonder, that he truly could love me.

  And finally, finally, I turned to him fully, embracing his light, letting him pull me back, up, up, up, through dark, through pain, through oblivion, back to life.

  Back to him.

  * * *

  Sound returned first, but it was distant, a buzz of voices that I couldn’t separate from the sluggish beat of my heart. All except for one.

  “Zuhra,” Raidyn said, soft and achingly gentle. “Open your eyes.”

  Though it took an enormous effort, I did as he asked, forcing them to peel open. My eyelids were scratchy and remarkably heavy, as if they’d been sealed shut, not just closed. The sun was bright overhead, too bright. I winced at the onslaught. But Raidyn was there, bending over me, his veins lit with power, though it was quickly receding back. His eyes were dulled, hardly any fire left in them.

  “Raidyn?” His name was a mere croak, my voice gravelly from disuse.

  He smiled at me, a tilt of his lips that was full of both relief and pain. He cupped my face with one hand, the other still rested on my sternum, just above my breasts. Everything was muddled; he’d healed me—that much was clear. But … from what?

  “Zuhra?”

  At the sound of Mother’s voice, Raidyn finally sat back, withdrawing both of his hands. The sun was hot overhead, the air thick, heavy with humidity, as if a storm had recently passed by, but I shivered, chilled.

  I tried to sit up, but my head swam.

  “Whoa … take it slow.” It was my father who spoke this time. “You will probably need to rest for a bit before you can do much.”

  He knelt next to Raidyn, and Mother did the same on my other side, taking one of my hands in hers. Her fingers were warm on mine, a testament to how cold I was, as she was usually much colder than me.

  “What happened?” I made myself ask, though I was afraid to find out. My memory was hazy; I vaguely recalled losing Inara and Loukas—but my mind darted away, shying from that recollection as soon as it arose, like a skittish horse—straight into flashes of a clearing, of Halvor being shot, of men rushing at us with weapons lifted, of fire that consumed, of bodies there and then gone—

  “Zuhra, ssshhh, just breathe, sweetheart. You need to rest. We can talk about what happened later.”

  I didn’t even realize I was wheezing, fighting a rush of panic, until my mother spoke, stroking a piece of hair back from my forehead. I looked to her; she’d never been so gentle with me before. But her touch wasn’t what I needed. I turned for him, but found my father instead. The only person I truly wanted to see was Raidyn. I needed him to hold me—to hold me together.

  I needed to know what I’d felt when he’d healed me was true.

  “Raidyn.”

  The trembling whisper sent a flash of hurt across my mother’s face, but my father quickly moved, his face a mask, letting Raidyn scoot back up by my head.

  “It’s the sanaulus, my heart. Don’t take it personally.”

  I barely registered my father’s murmur, as Raidyn took my hand in his, his eyes on mine. He looked as exhausted as I felt, but he was real and he was there. And because of him, so was I.

  “You can close your eyes and rest. It’s going to take a little bit before you regain your strength.” He stroked my hair back, over and over, methodical and soothing. A small corner of my mind that was working a bit better than the rest wondered why I needed rest when he’d healed me—I’d never needed to rest after any other time.

  But the majority of me, that felt as though I might never have the strength to move from this spot on the ground, succumbed to the exhaustion and his touch and with a helpless flutter, my eyes shut and I drifted off once more.

  * * *

  When I woke again, the sun was gone, all light erased, there was only darkness, inky black and never-ending. For a brief moment of suffocating terror, I thought I had sunk back into the abyss—that Raidyn saving me, dragging me from its endless hold, had been nothing more than a feverish, desperate dream.

  “Zuhra, it’s all right. I’m here.” Raidyn’s actual voice—real, and right beside me, not a memory—was the only thing that cut through the building panic. I turned toward it instinctually, though I still couldn’t see anything. “You’re safe. I’m here.”

  I blinked a few times and slowly, my eyes adjusted to nighttime in the forest. Not the darkness where I’d been caught for … I wasn’t sure how long.

  Raidyn lay beside me, less than a foot away. He reached out for my hand, curling his fingers over mine. I was still so tired, the exhaustion delved deep into my bones, but unlike the first surfacing, memories came flooding back all at once, an agonizing barrage of reality—and stark horror. Barloc and my sister on the ground … both of them disappearing through that tear of light … the horrible hours that followed … the attack by the river …

  What I’d done to save us.

  All those men I’d killed.

  My stomach heaved, but there was nothing but bile to rise up into my throat. Guilt coated my skin like ice. I shivered and squeezed my eyes shut, but when I did, I was assaulted by images of the stream of fire blasting out of Raidyn’s hands, incinerating an entire garrison of men in mere seconds.

  “Zuhra.” Raidyn’s voice was a low murmur, soft but insistent. “You saved us. None of us had enough power to stop that many men. Many of them would have still died, but all of us would have died with them.”

  I nodded, even as tears slipped over the bridge of my nose and down my temple to soak into my hair and the soil beneath my head. I’d known that when I’d chosen to put my hands on Raidyn’s arms. I’d known I was choosing our lives over theirs. But the reality of so much death—because of me—was something I didn’t know how to live with.

  “Don’t cry, meaula amarre.” Raidyn tenderly wiped the tears from my face, scooting closer so he could gather me into his arms. I curved into his embrace, burying my face in his shoulder. But instead of stopping, my tears turned into sobs that wrenched through me. He held me as I shook, soaking his shirt. When the torrent finally passed, leaving me rung out and weaker than ever, he still didn’t let me go.

  We were silent for a long time; the only sound the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear, and the whisper of the wind brushing the leaves overhead. He waited for me, let me gather my thoughts.

  “It drained me entirely,” I said at last, a statement, but he still said, “Yes.”

  “How long was I…”

  There was a pause, and then he said, “Two days.”

  I stiffened. I’d known it must have been a while, but … two days? I’d thought I had no tears left, but to realize I’d lost two whole days was such a shock they leaked out the corners of my eyes once more. I didn’t even realize that I’d still managed to cling to a tiny shred of hope that Inara had survived, until the realization that we’d lost so much time when we could have been in Visimperum searching for her tore me apart once more.

  “It drained me as well. Your father had to use what power he still retained after that attack t
o heal Halvor—though only enough to save his life. They had no choice but to wait for me to wake up on my own, and it took half a day,” Raidyn explained quietly. Halvor was alive then, I realized with relief. At least he had survived. “Your father tried to heal you too, when I was still too weak. But he couldn’t reach you. It was…” His arms tightened around me. “I have never been so frightened in my entire life.”

  He didn’t have to tell me any more—I knew the rest. On the second day—today—he’d finally succeeded in bringing me back. I shuddered when I thought of the darkness that had held me captive, how close I’d come to giving in to it entirely, letting it take me away from him.

  From everyone I loved, that I’d sacrificed so much to save.

  And though it hurt to even let myself cling to any hope, I couldn’t give up on Inara either. Not until I knew for certain she was gone. We’d both defied death before, more than once; was it possible she could have done it again?

  If not, then what had it all been for?

  I opened my eyes again, but this time, though it was still dark, I could see the shape of the trees above us, and the stars overhead, like glitter spilled across velvet, distant but brilliant. And Raidyn, his blue-fire eyes glowing in the night, looking down at me.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “For what?”

  “Everything,” I said. “For saving me. For giving me a reason to come back. For always being there for me.” I paused, gathering my courage. But if there was anything I’d learned over the last few weeks, it was that there were no guarantees of how much time we’d have together. And I couldn’t face whatever was ahead without telling him, out loud, how I truly felt. “Did you mean it … what I felt when you healed me?”

  He stared down at me, the fire in his eyes intensifying. “Yes, all of it.” His voice was husky, low in his throat.

  Heat blossomed in my heart—and pooled in my belly at the burning hunger in his gaze.

  He lifted one hand to cup my jaw, his thumb brushing my lower lip, sending a wave of need through my body.

  “I’ve never been more scared than when I thought we might have lost you forever. When I reached you today, with barely a flicker of life left…” His voice grew hoarse and he stopped. His head dipped, his lips found mine, brushing a soft kiss to my mouth as if he couldn’t wait one moment longer to do it. Before I could even react, he’d pulled away again. “But you came back to me, meaula amarre. You came back to me, and I realized I’d hoped you would know how I felt about you, because of the sanaulus. I didn’t want to say it out loud and risk having you not say it back. But I don’t care anymore. I am not risking another day going by when I don’t tell you how much I love you, Zuhra. Because I do. I love you. My heart, my life, my soul are yours.”