by Walls, Devri
I will help, Kiora. I will always help.
Kiora smiled, leaning against his side. “Thank you.”
Are you sure you’re ready for this?
Her smile faltered. “No. But it has to be done. Their numbers are too many, Arturo. I have to take them down.”
***
THE THREADS INCREASED EACH minute as more and more of Jasmine’s followers joined the celebration. Kiora stood outside the front of the manor, within the confines of the barrier, monitoring—waiting for the group of rebel slaves. No matter what she had planned, rescuing the slaves was the priority, and they could not risk being discovered until she had located them.
Behind her, Drustan shifted into a winged version of his long reptile creature to carry Emane and Alcander closer to the celebration when it was time. Emane paced back and forth in her peripheral view, grasping and releasing the hilt of the sword that sat at his hip. Every so often, he stopped to stretch out his shoulders, rolling them up and back. His nerves added to her own. Alcander stood next to her, his arms crossed and eyes closed. The muscles in his neck were taut and Kiora could feel the agitation from him as well—there were too many of the enemy.
A new group of threads finally appeared and the air rushed out of her. “They’re here,” she announced.
Kiora climbed onto Arturo while Emane and Alcander climbed onto Drustan. She threw a bubble over all of them and they headed toward the celebration.
Despite the circumstances, Kiora could not help but appreciate the beauty. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the ocean in pink and orange and glittering gold. The cliff’s edge seemed to be glowing as the last of the lights splashed up the side, illuminating the rim. Approaching the cliff were thousands of the enemy—Taveans, Omelians, Winged people and more. All dressed in their finest, each holding some sort of light. Some held glowing magical spheres—others carried torches or candles. No matter where she looked, light bounced as the snow picked up every flicker and threw it back into the air. The mood was joyous and infectious, and in sharp contrast to the darkness of the threads that ran through her.
Kiora felt the threads of the slaves, but couldn’t see them. Where were they? “Drustan, we need to land. The enclosure must be ready before Jasmine arrives.”
Drustan landed approximately fifty feet from the farthest reveler. Kiora quickly put up the enclosure, leaving Emane and Alcander standing beneath Drustan’s giant reptilian body as she and Arturo took back to the sky.
***
SHE FLEW OVER THE celebration, following the threads of good—the threads of the slaves. Finally she spotted them, in the middle of everyone, encircled by Taveans and Shifters who watched the skies.
Where is Jasmine? Arturo thought as he circled back around for another pass over the slaves.
“She’s probably bubbled, waiting to see what I will do.” Kiora pulled the sheath off her talisman, opening her mind completely to Arturo so they could work as one.
The revelers below them stilled, looking around for the Shadow. Kiora waited as well, wondering if Jasmine would reveal herself—she did not.
Let’s go, Kiora thought.
Arturo swooped down and caught one of the Tavean guards in the head with his hooves. It knocked him out immediately, and the momentum pushed him into the three guards behind him—clearing a spot for Arturo to land.
Kiora dropped her bubble. She threw a domed shield that wrapped around her and the slaves. The group of rebels were as shocked as the enemy, looking up and around at the shield in wonder. With the element of surprise on her side, Kiora didn’t waste any time. She called wind, shoving it out in all directions, pushing the enemy back.
She assessed the situation. A large number of Jasmine’s followers stood between the slaves and the safety waiting them on the other side. She flipped her wrist, pulling the wind into a tight spiral, and sent it tearing through the crowd. Taveans and Omelians were flung out of the way.
“Go!” she yelled to the bewildered slaves. Arturo rose off the ground within her shield. “We have to move fast.”
There was a moment’s hesitation that felt like eternity. Then one of the Omelians grabbed a Winged man and a Tavean who stood near him. “Go,” he yelled, shoving them forward. That was all it took. They began to run, pushing toward freedom.
Arturo flew just above their heads so Kiora could see where to direct the wind tunnel. She pulled the whirlwind from side to side, picking off any enemies who dared venture into her path. Some of the enemy pushed in behind her, bouncing off her shield, but most were so unprepared at the loss of magic that they stumbled about in chaos.
The slaves broke through the edge of the gathering, leaving the enemy behind. There was now nothing in front of them but miles of barren coastline. Their running slowed and their heads turned this way and that, searching for something they couldn’t see. Kiora looked out with them, seeing it through their eyes. Their path appeared less like an escape and more like certain death. They had no idea that salvation was waiting for them beneath a barrier.
Arturo sped forward, flying her above the slaves. “You will have to trust me,” she called over the roar of the wind. “Run straight. You will find King Alcander, a Shifter, and a Witow. They will get you to safety.”
She couldn’t see their reactions, but she felt their unease. And she couldn’t blame them. She was asking them to have blind faith with their lives on the line.
The crowd pushed and pounded against the back of her shield, trying to get to the escaping slaves. They then moved to the sides of her shield, trying to circumvent her protection. She dissolved the whirlwind and turned, transforming it into a wall of gale-force winds, and shoved it toward the enemy. The wind picked up those closest to her shield and blew them into those behind. They struggled to their feet, putting their shoulders into the wind and trying to force their way forward, but the wind was strong, and the power kept them at bay.
She threw a hurried glance back to confirm that the slaves were running in the right direction. They didn’t turn back, but she saw their confusion and stress in their broken and awkward gaits as they looked around for their invisible salvation. And then they started disappearing, one by one, into the enclosure she had built around Drustan. One rebel veered to the side, about to miss it entirely. Emane appeared and jerked him inside.
And then the moment she had been waiting for. A scream she was overly familiar with burst through the sound of the attacking mob. A black swirling Shadow appeared. The crowd shrieked, falling back as the Shadow advanced. There was no loyalty here, only unabated fear.
The Shadow began heaving—growing. But this time, Kiora knew what lay in the middle. Dropping her shield, she threw out a wave of magic with everything she had. It was white, tinged with green around the edges. It ripped forward, tearing through Jasmine’s shadowy covering.
The Shadow shrank, wrapping closer around Jasmine, but she managed to retain it. A moment later, red and black magic rippled out. Kiora threw the strongest shield she could and the magic connected like thunder, booming across the sky before sizzling around her. It rattled her bones. Kiora wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that her shield had held, or terrified that Jasmine hadn’t given it her all. She didn’t know how many of those hits she could take.
Arturo, search for me.
If she was going to go through with this with as clear a conscience as she could muster, she had to make sure there were no rebels wrapping their threads, hiding amongst the enemy. She needed Arturo to check as many of their thoughts as he could.
Jasmine threw out another black and red ribbon that rippled toward her, looking for a target. It was smaller than the first, but connected with the same boom, and Kiora’s shield thinned under the attack. Her ears rang from the sound. The second Jasmine’s magic cleared, Kiora opened a hole, releasing the usual tight hold she kept on her magic. She loosed a white-hot assault as Arturo swooped down.
Jasmine cried out. The black shadow faded, revealing her true form. H
er luxurious white silk-and-fur gown was stained with blood across the shoulder.
Jasmine’s followers edged away from the battle, leaving them trapped between Jasmine and the brink of the cliff. The silence of the crowd was absolute as they stared in open-mouthed wonder at the woman behind the shadow.
Kiora fired another shot. Jasmine’s hand whipped out and a shield the size of two castle doors appeared. Her green eyes blazed in fury.
We’re out of time, Kiora thought.
There are a lot of threads here, Kiora. I am working as fast as I can.
Jasmine grabbed the wind, shoving it forward. Kiora tried to defend, but she wasn’t fast enough. The force caught Arturo, jerking him into a violent spin. They careened toward the ground.
Arturo whinnied, frantically trying to right himself.
Kiora grappled for control of the wind as they flipped. She shoved back at it, diminishing its strength, which allowed Arturo to right himself seconds before they slammed into the ground. His hoofs scraped against the dirt as he pulled back up. Kiora threw a bubble.
Expecting them to go high again, Jasmine sent out a sphere of magic that rippled across the sky.
Finished, Arturo thought as they skimmed the ground, heading toward the mob crowded against the edge of the cliff.
“You checked everyone?”
Everyone I could. They are terrified of her, Arturo said, referring to Jasmine. But they hate you. All of them.
Kiora cursed. It was so reminiscent of home. Before that first battle with Dralazar, Kiora had been up all night, going door to door, checking threads. She had taken all who followed her to safety and left Dralazar’s followers there to suffer the consequences. It was Meros all over again—only this time, there was no one good to save.
They were taught to hate you. And you brought the Shadow back. They want you dead.
Arturo swooped in low, landing between Jasmine and her frozen followers. Jasmine put up her shield and Kiora put up one to match. They stood still, staring at each other through the slight distortion of magic. Kiora was again taken back as Jasmine’s eyes, which had been so filled with rage, now shone with amusement.
Kiora slid off Arturo, keeping her hand up to maintain the strongest shield possible. She dropped to one knee and touched the ground with her other hand, gently coaxing it apart. Her eyes never left Jasmine as small fissures shot through the rocky layers just beneath the surface. She nudged, carefully widening them as much as she dared.
Jasmine fired a shot. Kiora leaped backwards as some of the magic pushed its way through her shield. The attack slammed into the ground, connecting with one of the fissures—it separated several inches, racing across the surface.
Careful, Arturo warned.
Kiora climbed back on him, using all her energy to reinforce her shield.
Arturo took off just as Jasmine fired again. The force rolling toward them was rippling black and screamed of death. It was the largest attack Kiora had ever seen, and panic rolled through her. My shield won’t hold!
Hang on! Arturo turned, heading straight up. I am going to need help.
She dropped her shield, diverting all her magic to bring up wind behind Arturo. They shot into the sky, Arturo pumping his wings furiously. The magic passed beneath them, continuing over the heads of the enemy forces and rolling out to sea. It was now or never.
Kiora leaned over Arturo as he righted himself and sent down spires of white-and-green magic that connected with the fissured and broken ground. She fired as they flew, one shot after another, creating a line of impact that followed the path she had weakened in the stone.
The air rent with the sounds of popping and groaning—of earth separating itself. Then came the loud snap and groan of the cliff giving way, followed by shouts of panic from thousands as they slid toward the ocean. Two more shots and the massive chunk of earth detached, breaking into two pieces as it fell. The screams were horrific.
Kiora turned her attention to the sea and pulled forth a huge wave. She coaxed more water into the wave as it rushed forward. The water level at the base of the cliffs dropped, pulling those already in the water out to sea. The warships were pulled backwards, sliding up the front of the tsunami wave, looking like tiny dots on its massive surface. It roared forward on its mission of destruction.
More of the cliff crumbled away, taking with it those who had avoided the first major collapse. The screams, mixed with the rending of the rocks and the roar of the ocean, were deafening. They tore at Kiora’s soul behind the wall she had erected to keep it safe. She faltered, her wave dipping slightly in the middle.
Kiora.
That was all the reminder she needed. She could not win this war with the numbers as they were. The enemy was too great. The final pieces of the cliff gave way and the remainder of Jasmine’s followers tumbled to their death. A handful of enemy threads were fleeing while the Winged people fluttered above in the dust, not trying to save anyone and yet unable to tear their eyes away from the spectacle before them.
The wave she had pulled in was hundreds of feet high and getting taller as she continued to feed it water. It reached up as if it had fingers, slamming into the Winged people and dragging them in. Having finished what she came to do, Kiora pushed the wave down. The full force slammed into the base of the cliff. Spray plumed into the air, drenching her and Arturo with freezing salt water.
A swirling liquid torrent of death spun in the ocean beneath her. Pieces of broken warships stabbed upwards before being sucked underneath. Kiora continued to pull the water in all directions, ensuring there would be no escape from the thrashing sea.
The threads were silencing rapidly and the anguish she felt was at bitter odds with the rush of magic igniting every part of her. As the final threads faded, the sound of laughter rose above the sounds of destruction. Kiora whirled, her chest heaving and her cheeks flushed.
Jasmine floated a few feet above the ground. She looked into the waters below. Her white dress twisted around her body in the wind like a blood-stained cocoon. She looked triumphant as she inclined her chin, her eyes glittering above a self-satisfied smirk. Kiora released the waves, and they fell back into their normal cadence. Jasmine laughed again and then vanished.
Kiora stared at the empty air. That look of self-satisfaction should have been the last thing on Jasmine’s face. Every look Jasmine wore tonight was not what it should have been. Nothing made sense. She could have killed me, she thought to Arturo as she put up a bubble. So why didn’t she?
I don’t know.
Arturo turned, heading toward Lomay’s. As they crossed the barrier, Kiora saw through the window that the center foyer was filled with slaves. Some were celebrating; others had their faces pressed against the pane, looking at her in awe. She couldn’t go in, not right now. Not when the sudden void of threads around her was still in stark contrast to the numbers that had been here mere minutes before. Evil or not, they were dead at her hand.
“Take me to my balcony, please.”
Arturo obliged. He hugged the outside of the house as he flew to prevent them from getting caught up in the magic and transported to the other side. He then hovered above the balcony. She slipped off his back.
You did a good thing, Arturo thought.
I know that. It had to be done. I just . . .
Wish it was not you who had to do it, he finished her thought for her.
She nodded.
The slaves whose lives you saved will forever be grateful.
And I will forever be grateful I did, Kiora thought. That is my solace.
Try to get some sleep. Those you saved will be anxious to speak with you.
Good night, Arturo. Kiora gently ran her finger over his nose, offering a weak smile. She made her way stiffly inside and lowered herself to the edge of her bed. She didn’t want to think. She didn’t want to do anything. Reaching out a shaking hand, she started a fire in the fireplace and stared numbly at the hypnotic flames.
***
ALCA
NDER PUSHED HIS WAY through the celebrations of freedom—the joy at seeing their Solus stand against the undefeatable foe. He stopped next to Emane, who anxiously watched the door for Kiora’s return.
“She’s upstairs.”
“Thanks,” Emane said. “Did she tell you what she planned to do?”
“No.”
“You should probably go check on her,” Emane’s hand ran repeatedly over the hilt of his sword. “I am going to go stand by the back doors to make sure no one goes outside and upsets the foxes.”
“They can feel the foxes’ threads, you know,” Alcander said. “You don’t need to warn them.”
Emane clenched his jaw before leveling his gaze with Alcander’s. “Yes, I know. But I can’t go comfort the woman I love and am sending you instead. As much as I am trying to be gracious, it’s at times like this . . .” He ground his teeth. “She is hurting, Alcander—just go.” He jerked awkwardly forward as if being tugged by some imaginary string, and then made his way through the rebels.
Alcander watched him go before heading up the stairs. He knocked gently on Kiora’s door, but got no response. He pushed it open. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, staring into the fireplace. The light from the fire played off the white streak in her dark hair, making it look even brighter than usual.
