Warriors of Wing and Flame

by Sara B. Larson

  “Inara, I’m so sorry. Truly, I am.”

  The gentle, sorrowful murmur wasn’t from my sister, or even Raidyn.

  It was Louk, stepping forward and tenderly taking me into his arms, holding me as tears—so much loss, so much pain, would we ever escape it?—streaked down my face and shook my shoulders. I didn’t let myself relax into his touch, but he held on, refusing to let me go. Both of us stubborn and confused and hurting, but ultimately unable to resist the pull to one another.

  I sensed Sharmaine’s bewilderment, even over the tumult of my own emotions—bewilderment and concern and even a cautious gladness … but no anger, no jealousy.

  That was when I finally curved into his body, letting his arms tighten around me. When I realized she didn’t love him after all. As a friend, yes. But there was nothing else there for him—nothing like what I felt.

  Loukas’s heart beat beneath my cheek, steady and true, and his arms were strong and secure around me. Halvor’s death hurt in ways it would probably take weeks, months, even years to unravel. I’d never felt so confused as I did in that moment, sinking into the comfort of Loukas’s touch while being ripped apart inside with grief.

  Another explosion shook the citadel, and this time, a few pieces of the ceiling broke loose, falling down on us like hail made of plaster and stone. I pulled back from Louk. Just as I’d told my father, now was not the time for stories, it was also not the time for mourning. That would have to come later—if we survived this.

  Father and a handful of Paladin were still arguing over different possible plans, oblivious to our small circle of shared grief.

  Then Zuhra stepped forward.

  “Use me,” she said. When only a few Paladin turned to her, she repeated in a shout, “Use me!”

  Silence fell across the crowd, as more plaster from the ceiling rained down on us and the stones beneath our feet trembled from the onslaught below.

  “He wants my power,” she continued, her voice still near a yell. “So use me as bait. Draw him out. Make his forces split by offering him what he wants!”

  “No.” Raidyn’s eyes were wild. He shook his head as if my father had already agreed to her madness. “It will never work—you’ll sacrifice yourself for nothing!”

  “What about what you did with the Chimera?” My mother spoke up in the brief silence that followed Raidyn’s outburst. “I know they are jaklas, and can absorb power, but there has to be a point when it’s too much, isn’t there? When their bodies literally can’t contain any more?”

  The look on Zuhra’s face, part terror and part determination, melted into sagging relief. She glanced at Raidyn and he nodded.

  Though I’d pulled away, Loukas reached for my hand, taking it in his and holding it tightly. And then he spoke up. “I can help,” he said. “I can control the other jaklas so you will have a chance to stop them and reach Barloc. I don’t know how long I will be able to hold their minds in my control with as much power as they all wield, but I can at least give you all a few seconds.”

  A few seconds. Those words burned through my skull, echoing into a dark space where terror still lived, far beyond the reach of the light that had gifted me with more than just unbelievable power.

  What happened after a few seconds?

  “No,” my father said. “It’s too big of a risk. There are too many, with too much power. You will lose yourself.”

  “I won’t,” Loukas insisted. “And if I do…” His hand flexed on mine and that terror turned to dread. “It will be worth it if it saves everyone else.”

  “I can help him,” Zuhra offered. “I can—”

  “No,” Louk cut her off. “You have to help Raidyn. You two are our only hope to stop Barloc. Your combined power might be enough to kill him before he can absorb it all.”

  I listened as they all made suggestions, as they took turns volunteering to risk their lives to save others. Even Sharmaine offered, saying her shield could be used to protect a battalion long enough to slay at least some of the jaklas.

  And the entire time, the explosions increased in frequency and intensity, until everyone had a fine coating of plaster and dust on the tops of their heads and cracks had begun to form on the walls around us. If we didn’t make a decision and act soon, the citadel would fall down around us, crushing any hope of stopping Barloc and allowing him to reign in Vamala unchecked with blood and horror at his right hand.

  “This is our only chance,” Father’s voice finally boomed out, silencing the din. “We form our battalions, and do what we’ve trained our whole lives to do.” He went on to explain his plan, to draw out as many jaklas as possible, clearing the way to get to Barloc.

  Grandmother’s eyes met his across the hall and the sea of gryphons and Paladin. “I agree.”

  “That’s settled then,” Father bellowed as more explosions rocked the citadel. “We break into four battalions with as many as are healed enough to fight. We each attack a side of Barloc’s defenders. Each of you know what you are supposed to do. May the Light hold us and keep us safe.”

  “Are you sure you can do this?” Loukas turned to me as all the Paladin hurried to mount their gryphons one last time.

  “Are you sure you can?” I retorted, trying to make my voice sound like what he’d called “teasing,” but staring up at him in desperation, drinking in every feature, every nuance of emotion that crossed his face, the flicker of green flame flaring brighter in his eyes as his gaze roamed over my face as hungrily as mine did over his. I’d already lost Halvor … was I destined to lose Louk today as well?

  “This will work,” he said at last, low and fervent. “It has to.”

  “It will,” I promised, though I knew it wasn’t mine to make.

  With one last look that burned like a caress but that fell far short of actual touch, he released my hand and we both turned to our gryphons.

  Zuhra already sat behind Raidyn, her face set into a determined mask, but I sensed the cataclysm of emotions in her.

  Our eyes met—hazel and blue-fire—and I realized suddenly that I hadn’t given her one last hug, hadn’t said any last words to her … just in case.

  But then my father whistled and there was no more time as we all surged forward, out the shattered window, into the wind that battered a storm toward us and the battle that loomed below.

  FORTY-FOUR

  ZUHRA

  The plan was complex and simple all at once. Four groups of Paladin, each with a “secret weapon” to help make it possible to attack as many of the jaklas surrounding Barloc as possible, hopefully without risking any of the secret weapons’ lives any more than necessary as it would have been to try to use them against all ten of the surviving jaklas.

  Raidyn and I would wait until Barloc was exposed. Then it was our turn.

  For the first time since they’d been reunited, my father had convinced Mother to remain behind. I can’t bear to watch you ride away from me, not knowing if you’ll ever come back again, she’d said, but he’d kissed her and whispered something and she’d finally nodded and stepped back, her eyes flickering to where Inara and I had stood.

  Now I clung to Raidyn, trying to peer over his shoulder, hating having to wait while others risked their lives to give us our chance to kill Barloc. Including Sharmaine and Loukas, who were two of the secret weapons for their groups—Sharmaine using her shield to protect them long enough to attack the jaklas without their blasts reaching the Paladin, and Loukas using his mind control to force the jaklas his group was targeting to stand still and withhold their power until the Paladin could behead them. Gruesome but effective.

  The interaction between Sharmaine, Loukas, and my sister had been baffling … and touching. To see Loukas treat Inara with such tenderness, to witness the emotion that had softened his face when she’d learned of Halvor’s death—I’d already started to step toward her, to comfort her as I always had, when he’d done it instead. And Sharmaine had watched, surprised, but looking almost … relieved. As if she were
happy for him. For them.

  Now, she was flying away, in the center of a group of Paladin I didn’t know, and I could only pray she survived. Inara had already saved her life once today. My sister’s power was immense but it couldn’t be truly limitless. Surely, she would reach the end of it and soon, if she had to keep doing such intense healings.

  There was another shielder, like Sharmaine, in another group, and the final secret weapon was the entire group, including my grandmother, aiming all of their firepower at once on three or four jaklas, hopefully overwhelming their bodies with the sheer amount of combined power, and with any luck, killing them.

  There were so many variables, and so much potential loss.

  I glanced over at Inara, whose gryphon treaded air beside Naiki, her sharp blue-fire eyes watching as the groups split off and dove toward the jaklas below. Those who’d had to fly away over the hedge to get out of reach came back, but we gestured for them to wait—or go back into the Hall of Miracles. A final backup plan if we all failed.

  I still couldn’t believe my sister was alive, her power restored, and riding her own gryphon, no less. How had so much changed in only a couple of days? I should have been used to it by now, and yet I was continually shocked by how quickly life could shift course and people could be altered.

  Raidyn stiffened and I focused back on the scene ahead of us, my heart in my throat. The first two groups surged slightly ahead of the last two, so that when the other Paladin who could form a shield threw it up to protect his group, the jaklas to the left of their targets were able to send a volley of fireballs at the outer flank of their group, past the reach of his shield. Several gryphons plummeted to the earth, their Riders dead or dying.

  Inara gave a tiny cry; I glanced at her to see her face contorted with grief, her knuckles white on the reins she clenched, but she didn’t signal her gryphon to move forward—not yet. The other groups got into place and soon all the jaklas were busy contending with each of the joint attacks.

  I stared as Sharmaine’s group surged forward, under protection of her shield, while the jaklas in Loukas’s froze in the act of lifting their hands, veins lit but their ability and will to act stolen by his power. The Paladin in both groups surged forward, gryphons swooping low, so their Riders could leap from their backs, swords lifted. One jakla fell, two, three … four … and then a stream of fire to rival what Raidyn and I could produce blasted through the hole where the three jaklas from Loukas’s group had fallen, incinerating the front row of Paladin who had succeeded in killing them.

  A scream echoed in my ears, and it took a minute for me to realize it was my own.

  Below us, the battle turned into chaos. The Paladin, including my grandmother, had all sent their fire at once at three jaklas, but only forced one into falling. The other two fought back, absorbing power and sending their own blasts, killing a handful of gryphons and Paladin, and forcing the others to retreat. One blast was aimed directly at my grandmother; her gryphon twisted in midair to let it shoot past them and explode against the side of the citadel, but the creature screeched in pain when the edge of the fire singed its wing.

  When a guttural cry erupted from my sister, my gaze flew to Loukas in time to see him collapsing forward onto his gryphon’s neck, as the fourth and final jakla in their section shook free of his hold and sent a blast of fire toward the group. Maddok retreated, swerving back and forth to keep Loukas on his back as his Rider dipped and swayed, nearly falling more than once as Inara kicked her heels into her gryphon’s side and dove for them.

  “No! Inara!”

  But she was already gone.

  Raidyn stiffened but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

  Though six of the ten jaklas had fallen, many more Paladin had died or were dying, and four jaklas remained, closing in around Barloc. The male shielder fell back with what remained of his fellow Paladin, along with the decimated group that had tried to fight fire with fire. Loukas’s group was also fleeing the onslaught of fire from the jaklas, while Inara’s gryphon turned alongside Maddok, so she could reach out and grasp his arm, her veins already lit with power.

  I saw the moment Barloc recognized her, the fury and hunger that twisted his face when he saw the power lighting her veins—power he had already stolen once.

  “No!” The wind whipped my shout from my mouth. I bent forward and yelled, “He’s going to go after Inara!” pointing over Raidyn’s shoulder to where Barloc was pushing the four remaining jaklas forward in front of him, to where Maddok and Inara’s gryphon hovered in midair as she tried to heal him, her eyes shut, unaware of the danger rushing for them.

  Raidyn didn’t hesitate, though we’d all agreed that we couldn’t risk the plan to save others, even those we cared about. He kicked his heels into Naiki’s side and she surged forward.

  But as we watched in amazement, Inara pulled her hand away and Loukas stirred, and then sat up.

  “Inara! Loukas! Go—now!” Raidyn shouted and they both glanced where he pointed, to where Barloc and the jaklas rushed across the destroyed grounds, dodging bodies, to try to reach them, already throwing blasts of fire at their gryphons.

  “Don’t kill them! Just the mounts!” Barloc was shouting, his words barely audible over the ever-increasing wind.

  But Inara and Loukas’s gryphons burst into action, racing away from them toward us.

  What could we do now?

  Our plan had almost succeeded. We’d come so close.

  But the only way the fire Raidyn and I could produce together would have any chance of being enough to kill Barloc was if it was used on him—and only him. And four remained, barring our way.

  “What do we do?” Raidyn shouted over his shoulder.

  Before I could answer, I noticed someone sneaking around the corner of the citadel, a butcher knife clutched in one hand and a mallet in the other. My heart plummeted, dread as cold as the bitter winds that stole through the citadel in the depths of midwinter chilling me to the bone.

  No. No, no, no! But I didn’t dare shout, or point, or do anything to alert Barloc to Sami’s presence as she tried valiantly to sneak up on him from behind. One small, aged, powerless human woman against a monster.

  Raidyn’s stomach clenched beneath my hands, his shoulders stiffening, and I knew he had seen her as well.

  All the remaining gryphons and Riders had fled, even Grandmother because her gryphon was injured and could barely fly straight; all except two who circled back to hover beside us. I didn’t dare look away from Sami, but I recognized Taavi and Keko out of the corner of my eye.

  Inara and Loukas reached us and turned their gryphons around.

  The six of us against the five of them … and Sami.

  “You’ll never win this,” Barloc shouted, still urging his jaklas toward us, though, for some reason, they’d stopped their attacks at our mounts. I could only hope they were running out of power. They were jaklas, yes, but surely even they would eventually lose their strength like all Paladin. Even Barloc had admitted to needing to rest, spying on us while he regained his strength after the strain of opening the gateway. “Surrender now and I’ll let you live. Or I can end you all. It doesn’t matter to me. The rest of my family is joining me later today, so I have time to kill.” His laughter was cruel, bordering on maniacal. I could hardly remember the blustering but scholarly man Halvor had called uncle, the façade he’d created to hide his true desires and intentions, even from his nephew.

  “You killed the only family you have left!” I shouted back, so full of fury and desperation and grief, I couldn’t hold it back. “The monsters you unleashed here murdered Halvor!”

  There was a brief moment, a twitch of his lip, a drawing down of his eyebrows, when I thought my words had struck something within him, some small corner of his heart that still remembered what it was to be human, to have a nephew. But then the tiny flicker of humanity twisted into a sneer. “He was no family of mine—he was weak, like his mother. Good riddance!”


  Rage at his callousness, his depthless cruelty, flashed beneath my skin on Halvor’s behalf, the memory of his sacrifice fresh and awful.

  “Hold your ground,” Father said, before any of us could react, barely loud enough for us to hear him. “There has been enough death today. The six of us will finish this. Now.”

  Before anyone could ask what he intended for us to do, Sami suddenly broke into a run, lifting the butcher knife in the air.

  For a breathless, hope-filled moment, I believed she might actually succeed. Barloc still faced us and she was close—so close—and then with a twist of his lips that looked like a grin, if a grin could be full of malice, he spun to face her, as if he’d known she was there all along and had intentionally allowed us a moment of hope so he could delight in tearing it away.

  She veered to the left, toward one of his jaklas as he lifted his arm. The knife swooped down … the fire that exploded out of Barloc’s hand flashed on the sharpened blade, like the last ray of sunlight in a sunset, breaking across the sky—

  The fire consumed her at the exact moment her knife imbedded in the back of the neck of one of the jaklas.

  “Nooo!” The scream was guttural, wrenching up from the deepest depths of my heart, met and matched by a similar cry of despair from Inara, as the only woman who had ever been motherly to us for the majority of our lives fell to the ground, convulsing, burned but not dead—yet.

  The jakla she’d managed to attack dropped to his knees, blood pouring from the wound in his neck. Barloc jumped forward, mouth parted, as though he would drink it and try to absorb his power before he died too, but Father sent a blast of his fire at the jakla, finishing what Sami had started. The jakla dropped, eyes unseeing, veins flickering and then going cold as his stolen power died with him.