by Walls, Devri
Killian slipped his arm from his mother’s shoulder and stepped forward. He held out his hand to Ky. There was a moment’s hesitation. Killian waited—hand outstretched. Ky stood stiffly, staring at it. Moments felt like hours and Alcander couldn’t breathe, watching, waiting—hoping.
Ky’s hand came up, taking Killian’s.
The breath Alcander had been holding rushed out. A Shifter and a Winged man, together. He couldn’t help but remember the scene he had watched in the Wings of Tavea when Kiora and Emane had arrived—the Shifters attacking a village of Winged people and the massacre that had ensued. But here they were. Two rebels, united against the Shadow, hand in hand. It was nothing short of miraculous.
Alcander was about to reemphasize to the rebels what they would be capable of if they used their natural gifts in conjunction with the Shifters’, but before he could open his mouth, Kiora’s scream tore through his mind. He stumbled forward, falling against the rail of the balcony, his staff clattering to the ground. The connection they both worked to keep closed for his sanity ripped wide open. Swallowing, he pushed himself off the rail, trying to look as if things were under control. But judging by the expressions on the rebels’ faces, he was failing.
He half walked, half stumbled off the balcony and into the room behind it, collapsing just inside the door. Kiora’s mind was open and he saw everything. She was wounded, badly—dying. Deep in the recesses of her mind, she knew it, and unbeknownst to her, he now knew it too. A fiery Dragon claw moved into her field of vision and lay across her skin, searing her flesh. His heart stuttered in his chest. Dying. His worst fears unwound themselves around his mind, squeezing his thoughts into terror.
Emane shoved the door open. “Alcander! What’s the matter?”
Drustan was right behind him.
Alcander struggled to his feet, gasping as the connection faded. “It’s Kiora. She’s hurt.”
“What do you mean, she’s hurt? What happened?” Emane asked. His voice was strained and his muscles were tense. He looked like he wanted to grab Alcander and shake the answer out of him.
Alcander’s color drained from his face. “I don’t know.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Favors and Allies
KIORA!
KIORA MOANED, CURLING into a ball. Alcander, not so loud.
Kiora. His mind came into focus through her haze. His emotions were blaring across the distance, more intense than she had ever felt from him. He had heard her scream and then her mind had gone quiet. He was truly terrified that she was dead. What happened? Are you all right?
I’m fine—don’t worry. Everything is . . . She wanted to say more, but it was too hard and she drifted back asleep.
“Kiora.” Another voice nudged at her ears. She wanted to yell at whoever it was to go away . . . if only she wasn’t so tired.
“Kiora.”
Turning her head, she groaned as the pain in her arm flared to the forefront of her consciousness. She peeled her eyes open. There was a Dragon snout inches from her face. Shouting, she jerked back. Pain stabbed through her arm and she grabbed it, going still at the strange-feeling flesh beneath her fingers.
The Dragon Queen pulled her head back as Kiora examined her arm. The flesh was blackened, with an angry ring of red surrounding it. Her arm had been cleaned and the bandage removed.
“What happened?”
“What happened?” the queen echoed, dropping back on her haunches in disgust. “You tried to die in my mountain. Again.”
Kiora attempted to stand, but the room spun and she fell forward, catching herself with her hands before lowering herself back down. “Ugh.” She gripped her throbbing head.
Her Majesty huffed, looking at Kiora like a wayward child she didn’t know what to do with. “You picked a terrible place to come with a wound like that,” she snapped. “No healers on site and a Pegasus that couldn’t tell us what happened.” Her leathery wings rustled as she readjusted them, laying them neatly down her back. “You’ve lost a lot of blood and you need to get your strength back up. Can you summon your own food, or shall I have some meat brought down?”
“No, it’s all right. I can summon something.” She was exhausted and her mind was still a fog, but magic buzzed beneath her skin, amplifying her discomfort. She summoned some water, fruit, and a loaf of bread.
The queen settled on her throne. “What happened?”
“I took a shot to the arm.”
The queen sighed, spiking the temperature in the throne room. “That much was painfully obvious.”
Kiora took a bite of bread, savoring the extra warmth the queen had just breathed into the room. Maybe it was the loss of blood, but she was freezing. If she was freezing in a mountain full of Dragon, she thought, something was definitely wrong. “We were moving the rebels to the city and two Taveans got the better of me.”
“What city?”
Kiora recounted everything that had happened since they last spoke. In conclusion, she pulled out the talisman that hung around her neck to show the queen. Kiora wrinkled her nose at the sight of it—it was covered in dried blood.
“You found it.” The queen gave her a knowing look. “You didn’t come here because you were injured, did you? You were already on your way.”
“I was.” Kiora drained her glass and summoned more water.
The queen leaned against the back of her throne. “You have come back because you want us to fight.”
Kiora toyed with the grapes in her lap, nervous at the warning tone in the queen’s statement. “That is why I am here, yes.”
“And if I say no?”
Kiora raised her chin. “Then I will make plans without you.”
The queen held a look of grudging respect. She glanced down to the uneaten food in Kiora’s lap. “Go ahead—eat. Manners are overrated. We can still talk with food in your mouth—I can’t have you passing out again.”
Kiora grinned and shook her head as she popped some grapes in her mouth.
“You said you would make plans without us. What plans?”
“I have considered a few options, but I can’t finalize anything until I know what I have to work with. That’s why I am here.”
“I see. Is it your intent to kill Jasmine?”
“I don’t see any other options.”
“Kiora, even with a matching talisman, that will be nearly impossible.”
“Her talisman has an exception—they both do.”
“The talisman itself is the exception.”
“No.” Kiora shook her head, leaning forward. “If the talismans are connected, it will void the magic in both.”
The queen stilled.
“It was the only way Belen could find to undo what he had done. If we connect the two, Jasmine will have to fight with only the magic she has—just like everyone else.”
“She will still be very powerful, Kiora. She is the daughter of a Creator.”
Kiora leaned back. “I know. I still need more power on our side if we are going to stand a chance. If we take out the ships along the coast, near Lomay’s, it would free a path for you to join the battle. ”
The queen was silent. Her gaze slid over Kiora’s head and focused thoughtfully on the back wall. “No, Kiora. I’m sorry.”
The queen had told her the last time she visited the mountain that the Dragon would not fight. Despite that, Kiora had held on to a flicker of hope that the queen would change her mind once she saw the talisman. That hope died in her chest, leaving an empty hole—despair quickly slid into its place.
“I cannot sentence my people to death. Too many would be lost on a fight that is not ours.”
Kiora stood. Her legs wobbled beneath her and she had to concentrate on remaining steady. “May I speak freely?” she blurted.
The queen’s lips pursed. “You are about to say something you think will anger me.”
“It might.”
“Continue.”
“You asked me last time I was here why Morcant’s
scale was brown. Your scales match your surroundings, and Morcant lived in a dirt hole in the ground. He hated it. He missed his freedom and the green hills he had once called home. But he had been hunted by my people after the last war in Meros, and because of his unwavering loyalty, he had been shunned by his own kind, so that dirt hole was where he lived for a thousand years.
“I asked him why he remained on the side of good. After everything he had been through, he had every reason to side with Dralazar. Your son said something to me that day that I will never forget. He told me that the actions of others didn’t change what he knew to be true.” The queen opened her mouth to speak, but Kiora rushed forward. “And then, when I almost lost myself to Dralazar’s influence, he told me that I couldn’t listen with my ears. He told me that I could only listen with my heart, and follow what I knew to be right.”
The queen evaluated her, nostrils flaring. Slowly, she unfolded herself from her throne, reaching her full height without taking her eyes from Kiora. Her expression of stony displeasure never wavered as she extended her tail. “Get on.”
Resigned, Kiora wrapped her good arm around the queen’s tail. Her audience was over—her speech had done no good whatsoever.
***
THE GUARDIANS WERE HARD at work with the Shifters, crafting swords for the rebels. Malena and Leo would summon the metal needed and infuse it with enough magic to penetrate Dragon hides. They would then pass the lengths of metal to the Shifters, who would heat it with Dragon fire and shape it to the Guardians’ specifications. Once the swords were approved by Malena, she would infuse the metal once more and submerge them in water to cool them. They were pushing out weapons as fast as they could.
The rebel captains that Emane and Alcander had chosen were comfortable enough with sword fighting that they had begun working in small groups, teaching the others. This allowed Alcander and Emane a little freedom. They moved outside of the training rooms to watch the sparring through the open doors, keeping a healthy-enough distance as to not interfere. Einar and another Tavean charged each other. Their swords clanged, the sound of metal on metal echoing across the courtyard.
“Are you sure they’re ready?” Emane asked.
“They don’t need to be as good as you,” Alcander said. “Just good enough to defend themselves against unarmed enemies and Dragon claws.”
“It’s the Dragon claws that concern me.”
“Our time frame is what concerns me. We need to get to Tavea.”
Emane glanced over at Alcander. “I haven’t forgotten our conversation. Are you ready to tell me what else we will be collecting while in Tavea?”
There was a long silence. “There is something there that belongs to me.” Alcander said, his eyes not moving from the sparring. “Something I would very much like back.”
“Something important enough to die for? Because Tavea wants you dead.”
“Judging by the amount of Tavean threads outside, I am fairly certain the number left guarding Tavea will be small.” He finally looked over. “I wouldn’t ask you to go if I thought we were going to die, Emane.”
Emane huffed. “Let’s say we go with your insane idea of returning to Tavea. How are we getting the animals back here? And where can we store them? They are not exactly small enough to share a room with.”
“The Shifters can do a little remodeling while we’re away. If we consolidate the rebels and fill the tunnels to capacity instead of leaving them spread out as they are now, we should have one full tunnel that is not in use. We can have it changed into a stable.”
Emane crossed his arms. “If we try to bring the animals in, we will lose another entrance. We are still surrounded.”
“Not if we use one we have already lost.”
“The army has manned all those entrances—tripled the one the Shifters were guarding last time.”
“With the element of surprise on our side and the number of flying foxes we are bringing in, I expect we can cut a path fairly quickly. In addition, if we use the entrances we know to be heavily guarded, it will work to convince the enemy that they have already found all the entrances there are to find. If that happens, they will relocate their forces—”
“Giving us free use of the other entrances,” Emane muttered. “All right, fine. I see your point. But can you bubble all of us without Kiora?”
Alcander blanched. “Not exactly. I may be able to hold it for a couple of minutes, but that is all.”
“And we are back to the beginning. How do you plan on getting the foxes here?”
“I have it under control, Emane. Stop worrying so much.” Alcander turned and walked away, leaving Emane staring at his back.
“That’s it?” he yelled. “You expect me to go into Tavea with you and all you’re going to tell me is, ‘I have it under control’?”
***
THE QUEEN STOOD ON the stone ramp with Kiora and Arturo.
“Thank you for the help,” Kiora said.
The queen examined her wounded shoulder. “You are welcome. I wish there had been another way to stop the bleeding.”
Kiora climbed on Arturo, trying not to wince.
I am not sure whether you were brave or stupid—saying what you did. Arturo thought.
It doesn’t matter—she won’t help.
“Kiora,” the queen said tightly. “Before you go. That white streak—you haven’t always had that, have you?”
Kiora’s fingers went to her hair. “No. Why?”
“You changed, didn’t you?”
“Yes, back in Meros.”
“That’s what I thought.” The queen lowered her head, coming eye to eye with Kiora. “Although we will not fight, I can offer you this—the change you experienced not only increased your ability for magic, but it gave you the potential to tap into the very essence of nature, just as the Creators did in the beginning. It provides a constant and unending supply of power.”
The air rushed out of Kiora. The implication was huge. “But how?”
The queen pulled back. “I don’t know, little one. I was never privy to such power. All I know is that to harness nature, your body must be prepared. But even then, nature will choose whether or not to answer your call.” The queen spread her wings and turned her back to Kiora. “If you are to have a chance at killing Jasmine, you must find out how to use it.” She leaped off the ledge and dropped back into the bowels of the mountain.
Kiora stared at the empty space, her questions crowding forward. Arturo, did you know?
No.
How could you not know? she demanded.
The Creators never made mention of it in their writings. Besides Jasmine, the queen is the only survivor from that time.
A giant red Dragon winged upwards, landing on the ramp. The stone shook beneath them. “It is time to go,” Silan rumbled. “Your audience with the queen is over.”
“Of course,” Kiora said, still thinking on the queen’s revelation. “Our apologies.”
Where are we going now? Arturo asked as they flew out of the mountain.
I need somewhere to practice.
There are islands a little past Toopai that are nothing but rock and sand. They should be uninhabited.
Uninhabited was good, considering she was going to sink them to the ocean floor.
***
THEY WERE READY TO leave. Emane was dressed in full armor. His shield and bow were strapped to his back, sword and daggers on his hips. Alcander looked him up and down.
“Not one word,” Emane said, pointing a finger at Alcander’s nose. “Not about how many weapons I carry or what a shame it is that I can’t knock people off their feet with a flick of my finger.”
“Do not make assumptions,” Alcander said.
Emane shook his head, exasperated. “Sure. Come on—let’s go retrieve Drustan and tell him of our brilliantly thought-out quest.”
They found Drustan in one of the training rooms full of Shifters. “Keeping traditional shapes leaves you weakened in certain situatio
ns,” he said, clearly directing his comments to a rather upset-looking Shifter near the front.
“But the creatures that exist in nature were created in the best way possible,” the Shifter was arguing. “Why would we not use the design of a Creator?”
You could tell Drustan was valiantly trying not to roll his eyes as he grasped his hands behind his back. “We have been over this before. I am not suggesting you alter everything. A Dragon’s wing, for example, is the best design for maneuvering and flight. What I am suggesting is that where possible, we enhance. Why do we have to pick whether we want Dragon scales or fox spit?” He turned, searching the crowd. “Erina, would you and your group have been able to hold that entrance without the shapes you took?”
Erina stood. “No. We were under full magical attack. Without those plated scales, we would have been destroyed.”
“But if we had depended only on the scales, we would have been overrun by sheer numbers,” Killian added. “The combination of the stingers and fox spit was necessary to ensure our survival under the circumstances.”
“Exactly. Thank you,” Drustan said. He motioned for Erina to sit. “This is what I am trying to make you understand. You must adjust your bodies for the situation. If you want to survive, you must let go of the beliefs that we have held on to for so long.”
