by Walls, Devri
The voices of the two pounded through Alcander’s ears, grating on his already frayed nerves. “Stop. Talking.” he said between clenched teeth as they half helped, half carried him up the stairs. Normally he would have been mortified by his helplessness, but he hurt so badly that he could hardly register his embarrassment.
The courtyard was barely lit by a slim crescent moon as they exited the stable, but the faint glow was enough to add to his pain. They were only halfway to the castle when Alcander grunted, jerked himself free of their support, and vomited.
He wiped his arm across his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut. “Arturo said we have to get some warm clothes,” he said weakly. “For the journey. And I need . . . some sleep.” Clenching his staff, he tried to stand back up, but he stumbled. The pressure inexplicably increased and he dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around the back of his head. The sound of a woman laughing jangled in his throbbing mind. Alcander yelled out, curling himself into a ball.
“Emane, find us all some warm clothes. I am going to take Alcander up.” Drustan sprouted wings from his back. He bent down and wrapped his arms around Alcander’s middle.
“I had no idea opening my mind to Kiora would open it to everyone,” Alcander groaned as Drustan flew them to one of the upper balconies. He felt like a child as Drustan carried him through the frame of the shattered glass door and set him on the edge of the bed. His stomach heaved again and he gripped the edge, trying to force the nausea down.
“You would have done it anyway,” Drustan said, walking back toward the door. He spread his wings and was gone.
Curling himself back into a ball Alcander wrapped his hands over his head, trying to shut out the pain and protect his thoughts behind walls.
***
JASMINE OPENED HER EYES. “Despite the pain to your Tavean friend, you are still here. Surely you must realize it is your presence that is allowing me access to him.”
Kiora had realized and was frantically throwing herself against the vision, trying to be free of it. She had always been able to pull out, but this time was different. She couldn’t escape, just like she couldn’t wake up from her nightmares. Fear shot through her. Just how sick was she?
Jasmine pursed her lips before vanishing.
Kiora breathed easier. She looked around the empty room, hoping it was over—that whatever pain Jasmine had inflicted on Alcander had stopped. A moment later, the black began to seep in around the edges of her vision and she sagged in relief, nearly laughing with joy—it was over. But instead of waking up, she appeared in front of the slave camp—right next to Jasmine.
Those with threads of good trudged around, their shoulders rolled forward, carrying baskets of dirt and rocks. Their hands were thick with grime, their hair matted, and their faces bleak.
The hopelessness of these slaves was so much more complete than the prisoners they had freed from Tavea. While the Taveans had languished away in cells, the prisoners here sagged under hard labor, captivity, and abuse. A Shifter slave master kicked an old Winged woman in the back of the knees, sending her sprawling in the dirt.
Feeling Kiora’s presence again, Jasmine breathed out in disgust. “If you need something to watch, Solus, I shall give you something to watch.”
Striding forward, Jasmine dropped the bubble she was holding, and the work site fell silent. She had donned her shadowy covering and her followers bowed deep, but the nervous shaking of their hands and knees betrayed their desire to run. The slaves whimpered, dropping their loads to the ground as they looked with hollow eyes at what they surely knew was death. Some backed up toward an escape that didn’t exist.
Jasmine’s hand emerged from the shadow, using magic to pull a Tavean woman toward her. She gripped her upper arm tight enough that the woman cried out in pain. Kiora ran forward, but could do nothing—she wasn’t really there.
Jasmine’s other hand flicked out, rapidly running her finger along the Tavean’s throat. Black magic flared and the Tavean gasped as blood poured down her neck.
Jasmine discarded her and the Tavean crumpled to the ground, grasping desperately at her throat, trying to stem the tide of blood.
Kiora cried out. She ran and dropped down beside the woman. She tried to touch her—comfort her. But she was helpless. The blood ran down the Tavean’s neck, staining her white hair. The woman’s eyes grew wide, her pupils shrinking to small black dots in her pale blue eyes Her chest jerked once, twice—and then she was still.
“Ready to go yet?” Jasmine hissed. She waited momentarily to feel if Kiora’s presence would leave. When it did not, she pushed out her shadowy covering, wrapping it around the Winged woman who had been pushed to the ground moments before.
Kiora screamed as the woman’s thread ceased to exist. “Stop!”
“I tire of this game, Solus. I think perhaps it is time we end it.” Jasmine raised her voice from within the Shadow. “Pack up the slaves,” she announced, “If the Solus does not deliver herself to me by the winter solstice, I will slit the throats of each and every rebel. One every hour, on the hour, until she does.”
The camp exploded into movement as the slave masters grabbed the slaves, hauling them up from their knees.
Jasmine bubbled and dropped the shadow, watching the action with a self-satisfied smirk.
Winter solstice? When was that? What was that? Kiora had no idea, and every slave’s life depended on her. Her throat and eyes burned with fury and she wanted to reach out and wrap her hands around Jasmine’s neck. The woman oozed evil in a way she had never experienced before.
CHAPTER TEN
Winter Solstice
ALCANDER’S HEAD WAS STILL filled with throbbing pressure, but he didn’t feel the need to throw up, which was an improvement.
Drustan walked in the room, tossing him a coat. “Arturo’s here.”
Alcander forced himself to his feet, shoved his arms through the coat sleeves, and followed Drustan to the balcony. Out of habit, he mentally reached for threads. A stab of pain chastened him and he recoiled immediately.
The nausea was returning. Trying to clear his head, Alcander took a deep breath of the cool, crisp air. It smelled of home; the bitter edge in the air was from the rows of flowering hedges his mother had insisted be planted, despite the fact that they smelled dreadful. But when in bloom they were magnificent, and his mother would forgive all to look at those magenta blossoms in the spring.
The morning light was just reaching across the balcony and he looked out, but the rising sun was like a dagger to his brain. He hissed and threw his arm over his eyes, squeezing them shut.
“Not much better?” Drustan asked.
Alcander just grunted. He could barely open his eyes as Drustan flew them down. Emane was already outside, waiting next to Arturo.
Alcander gave Arturo a nod of acknowledgment and motioned for Emane to follow him to the stables. He sighed in relief as they descended into the darkness. He kept his staff as dim as possible and directed it toward his feet to minimize the amount of light reaching his eyes. “I need you to stand on the stairs and keep the foxes from sneaking out.”
“You want me to block their path? Alcander, they spit acid.”
“They like you.”
“Great—they also lick acid.”
“Listen,” Alcander snapped with ferocity, “if anyone besides the leader of this pack gets out first, they are gone.” He rubbed his temples, and then took the key from his pocket.
The first door dissolved and the flying foxes trotted into the center area. They stretched their wings, their large ears swiveling back and forth. More joined them as Alcander continued to open doors.
Two made their way toward Emane, leaping with excitement. Emane backed up a couple of stairs when one tried to lick him.
“Hold your ground, Emane, or they will push you all the way up.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Yell at them—show a little presence.”
Emane leaned forward. “Ha!�
� he yelled. “Get back!”
The two pushy foxes skittered backwards.
Alcander surveyed the pack until he spotted a smaller fox roll onto its back, showing submission to the leader. Alcander nudged his way through the animals and grabbed the leader by the scruff. He pulled it the rest of the way through the group and positioned the fox in such a way that its body blocked the stairs. “Head on up and get out of the way,” he told Emane.
Alcander put his hands on the fox’s back, preparing to climb on, but hesitated, gritting his teeth at the imminent sunlight. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up in one fluid movement, lying flat as the fox bounded up the stairs.
The fox leaped into the open courtyard and spread its wings, taking immediately to the sky, the rest following. Alcander let them flip and twirl for a minute before urging them back to the ground.
Alcander looked at Arturo, squinting. “We have to bring the foxes, but I have never flown one at the altitude you favor. Are they capable of it?”
Arturo just looked at him
“You don’t know?”
Arturo shook his head.
“I’ll ride the leader,” Emane said. “My thread is less likely to be noticed if the foxes need to be a little lower.”
“And if your thread is felt?” Drustan asked.
Emane huffed in aggravation, swiveling to look at Drustan. “Then you can all come rescue my poor magicless behind. Let’s go!”
Alcander slid off the fox, holding it by the scruff as Emane climbed on. He gave him quick instructions on flying before mounting Arturo. Drustan shrank into a small, extremely furry animal Alcander had never seen before. It leaped onto the back of Arturo’s neck, nestling down into his mane.
“What are you?” Alcander asked, closing his eyes again against the pain of the sun.
“Warm,” Drustan replied.
Arturo took to the sky. The sun was brighter as they cleared the minimal cloud cover. Alcander moaned. He ducked his head, letting his hair fall forward to help block the light, and squeezed his eyes shut. Despite that, it was still agony.
***
EMANE MANAGED TO KEEP the foxes at nearly the same altitude as Arturo while they flew toward Lomay’s. As the sound of the ocean reached his ears and the sun returned to earth on its daily arc, he looked up to notice that Arturo had vanished. Grabbing his bow, he nocked an arrow, scanning for whatever had caused Alcander to use a bubble. He saw nothing—which, unfortunately, didn’t mean a damn thing in this world.
A moment later, a bubble slipped around him and Arturo appeared at his side. Emane jumped at the sudden appearance. “I am going to accidently shoot you one of these days,” Emane grumbled, slamming his arrow back into its sheath.
“When we get to the ground, you heal Kiora. I am going to take care of the foxes,” Alcander said, his face pale and pinched in pain.
Arturo was thick with lather under his heaving sides. He had been flying for nearly twenty-four hours straight.
“Follow tight,” Alcander said. “Let the back end of your fox hang out of the bubble—the pack needs something to follow or they will start to wander.”
Emane inched the fox back. They dropped into a dive.
Arturo landed near a small outcropping of thin and drooping trees. As soon as Alcander’s feet hit the ground, pain exploded behind his eyes. He cried out, falling to his knees.
Emane leaped off his fox. “Alcander!”
Alcander wrapped his hands around the back of his neck, rocking back and forth. The hair on the side of his head was tinged pink. Emane reached out, shoving Alcander’s hair to the side. Dried blood was crusted around his ears and a fresh line dripped down his neck.
Emane frowned. “Alcander, how long have you been bleeding?”
Alcander shuddered and forced himself up. “Heal her.”
“This is killing you,” Emane snapped. “We have to do something.”
“I don’t know how much longer I can fight this, Emane. You have to heal Kiora.” Alcander steeled himself for a moment and then jumped on to the fox Emane had just dismounted. He kept his bubble up as his fox rose back to the air, leaving a tail and two back legs for the rest of the pack to follow.
Emane trailed a wobbly and exhausted Arturo through the enclosure Kiora had built. Drustan shifted into human form behind him.
She was lying on her side. “Kiora!” Emane ran to her, dropping to his knees. A blackened wound on her arm was swollen, the edges shiny red with thick red streaks that ran up and over her shoulder, disappearing under her shirt. She was flushed and sweating from a fever, her hair matted around her face and wound through the dried grass. She thrashed, moaning.
He leaned forward to heal her just as she yelled Jasmine’s name. Magic flashed out from her body in a wave. Drustan was able to put up a shield, but Emane was kneeling in front of him and caught the brunt of the blast. It picked him up, throwing him clear out of the barrier. He coughed, shaking his head to clear it before getting to his feet and running back through. Arturo was lying on the ground. If it wasn’t for the way his sides were still rising and falling from his flight, Emane would have thought he was dead.
“He’s all right,” Drustan said, following Emane’s worried look. “Just exhausted.”
Emane eyed Kiora. Waves of magic rolled over her, rippling greens and reds, and he worried another burst was coming. He inched forward. His elbow throbbed from his landing, but he didn’t dare waste magic on himself, not until he knew what he was going to need for Kiora. He reached out. He had barely touched her skin when magic jolted through him. He jerked his hand back, swearing.
“Emane—” Drustan began, then clamped his mouth shut.
Emane looked over his shoulder. “Any chance you could help me out with a shield?”
“Look out!” Drustan shouted as Kiora arched her back. Magic arced, leaving her body and impacting the ground around her.
Emane scrambled backwards, falling when his bad elbow collapsed beneath him. “Come on, Drustan. It’s not safe in here. She has lost control of her magic—we need to hurry.”
Drustan rushed forward, pushing out as large of a shield as he could. It wasn’t terribly impressive and Emane could barely squeeze behind it. “You still aren’t going to be able to touch her without putting yourself in danger.”
“I know. Drustan, you said something was causing Alcander’s headaches—current magic. There’s only one way I can think of that someone would have access to Alcander’s mind, and that is through Kiora. If I don’t pull her out of this, both of them are going to die. If you see any other options, now would be a good time to tell me.”
Drustan nodded and opened a hole in the shield for Emane to slide his hand through to heal Kiora. The barrier around them began to flicker.
Drustan looked up in alarm and Arturo struggled to his feet.
“Jasmine’s here with the talisman,” Drustan yelled. His shield failed and the barrier flickered again. “We don’t have long before the barrier goes down.”
Kiora’s magic diminished under Jasmine’s power, but it still rippled over her body—uncontrolled and dangerous. Emane waited, hoping the talisman would decrease Kiora’s magic enough that he could heal her without killing himself.
The barrier around them vanished.
“Emane!” Drustan yelled. “We have to get out of here.” He shifted into a Winged person, twice the normal size, before it was too late.
There was no choice. Emane lunged forward and grabbed ahold of Kiora’s arm—healing. His body seized under her magic. He threw his head back, yelling out in pain, but refused to let go.
Kiora heaved a great gasp of air and her eyes fluttered open.
The magic released him and Emane collapsed to the ground.
***
KIORA WOKE TO DRUSTAN yelling, “The talisman, the talisman! Take off the mesh!”
Kiora sat up, ripping the covering off.
“We need some protection,” he shouted. “Jasmine’s almost here.”
>
Kiora threw a bubble and looked around.
Drustan picked up Emane, who lay limply over his arms.
“What is going on? What’s wrong with Emane? Where’s Alcander?” she yelled, struggling to her feet.
Arturo was covered in sweat and foam, and struggled to walk. Lomay’s, he thought between giant breaths. You have to get to Lomay’s. Climb on. The dark tendrils of the Shadow appeared, far too close for comfort.
Arturo, no. You can’t carry me.
Call me some wind. I will be fine.
“Kiora! Where are we going?” Drustan asked. He wasn’t looking at her, but at the steadily growing black Shadow.
“Lomay’s.” Her stomach dropped. Alcander’s thread had just appeared down the cliff. She whirled around to see him standing on the edge, his white hair blowing back behind him. “No!”
The Shadow stuttered and then turned, heading straight for Alcander.
Alcander was trying to draw Jasmine away from them. Little did he know he was pulling her straight where they needed to go.
Kiora climbed onto Arturo, calling the fiercest wind she thought Drustan and Arturo could handle. It blew them toward the manor, right behind the advancing Shadow.
Alcander waited until the Shadow was dangerously close before stepping back through the enchantment that protected Lomay’s house.
