by Devri Walls
“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 situations,” 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.”
Drustan caught sight of Alcander and Emane in the back and waved them forward. “Let’s say you’re surrounded. If I have Emane on one side and Alcander on the other . . .” He positioned them where he wanted, eyeing Emane as he walked by.
“You are all armored up,” Drustan muttered as he passed. Emane motioned for him to continue with his demonstration.
“In this situation, you can try to fight your way out using traditional means, which,” Drustan stopped to look down at the Shifter in the front who had argued with him in the beginning, “your odds of survival are not good.” He pointed over to Emane. “He is very good with that bow. Now, myself, I prefer to adjust to the situation . . .” Drustan shifted his arms into long, snaky appendages with stingers on the ends. They whipped across the room toward Emane and Alcander, the stingers stopping just above both their hearts. “. . . and take them both out with minimal risk to my own life.”
Some of the Shifters looked excited, their eyes ablaze with possibilities. Others whispered to one another with smiles on their faces, gesturing out different ideas for adding features to their shifts. A few, like the Shifter in the front row, sat with their arms crossed, still uncomfortable about parting with the beliefs of their fathers.
Alcander walked over and put his hand on Drustan’s shoulder, whispering in his ear.
Drustan nodded. “Erina, will you please take it from here?”
Erina made her way to the front of the room while Drustan followed them out.
Once out of the training room, Alcander said, “We are going to Tavea.”
Drustan jerked to a sudden stop. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Most likely,” Emane said. “But I don’t think pointing that out is going to change it.”
Drustan shook his head with a snort of disbelief. “When?”
“Now,” Alcander said.
“We’re just going to leave the rebels here?” Drustan asked. “I thought we were supposed to be getting ready for a war.”
“We are. But Erina is more than capable of working with the Shifters. You are not trying to teach them a new skill set—just a new philosophy. The rebel captains have been informed and will continue to prepare the others,” Alcander said.
“Who else are we taking?” Drustan asked.
“Just us,” Alcander said.
Drustan’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. “What?” he finally spat.
“This is not an attack. We need to get in and out without being spotted.”
“Yes, just us and a herd of flying foxes,” Emane said. “Should be very subtle.”
Drustan looked back and forth between Emane and Alcander. “This is insane.”
“That’s what I said.”
Alcander fixed Drustan with his steely blue stare.
“Fine,” Drustan said curtly. “What do you need?”
“Something deadly and fast,” Alcander said as he walked toward one of the tunnels. “We are taking the far-east exit.”
“Of course we are,” Drustan said, strolling behind. “Why wouldn’t we take the heaviest-guarded exit? We are already heading off to our deaths—might as well start it off right.”
“Inappropriate humor, Drustan,” Emane said.
“Yes, certain death brings it out in me. You should know that by now.”
“We are not going to die,” Alcander said dryly.
They hadn’t reached the mouth yet when a tremendous boom rocked the city. Emane whirled as the chandelier began swinging. The ground shook beneath their feet. “What was that?” he asked, his eyes darted around. The rebels poured out of the training rooms in alarm.
Another boom came, same as the first. This time, Emane noticed the barrier above them rippling. The massive chandelier hanging from it swung back and forth in a high arc. “Look!” He pointed.
Alcander stepped forward, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion and concern.
“Any idea what that was?” Drustan asked.
Alcander summoned his staff and pointed it toward the barrier. He whispered an incantation under his breath. The barrier that Lomay had darkened returned to its previously clear state. The water in the lake was frothing and swirling as if something large had disturbed it.
Alcander strode toward the center of the city, his eyes fixed on the lake. Emane had almost caught up to him when the water began to glow. A ball of fire within a glittering white sphere rushed toward them.
The ball slammed into the barrier and flame licked out across the bottom. The rebels screamed, running and ducking. The chandelier swung so severely, Emane was worried it would snap and come crashing down on the rebels.
“That looks like Dragon fire,” Drustan said. “How are they getting it to the bottom of the lake?”
“They are wrapping it in magic,” Emane said, looking at Alcander. “Aren’t they?”
“It looks like it.”
“If Jasmine can’t get through, what makes them think that’s going to work?” Drustan asked.
“I have no idea,” Alcander said. “Come on. Let’s give them something else to target.” Turning, he jogged back toward the tunnels. Near the end, he opened a door to one of the rooms that ran along the sides.
There was a female Tavean inside who looked up in surprise before bowing her head. “Your Majesty, is everything all right?” Her eyes widened as another fireball impacted and the walls of her room rattled.
“Cyria, I need your help. We need to open this entrance, and I need you to close it behind us.”
“Of course, my king.”
The three stood back while Alcander used his magic to slide the door open. He scanned the area. “The army is too far away. We have to bring them in closer.”
Drustan stepped forward. “Far away is good—why are we bringing them closer?”
“I can’t keep us bubbled long enough to get us past this army and out of range—they are too spread out.”
Drustan gave Emane a withering look over his shoulder. “I miss Kiora.”
It took a moment before the army outside noticed the sheeting magic and pounded toward them. The first two, a Tavean and a Shifter, hit the barrier as more of the enemy attempted to push in behind them. The magic turned red and melted away
the first intruders. Three more were pushed in—they started to melt.
Alcander stood very still, watching the army.
“What are we waiting for?” Emane asked.
Four of the enemy lunged forward into the magic. With the army still pushing behind them and so many crowding, a Tavean’s head and shoulders emerged through the barrier before the magic turned red. Emane stepped back, his hand going for his sword as the Tavean grinned through a sheet of black hair. The magic flared red, melting the other three as well as the bottom half of the grinning Tavean. His screams echoed around them, then abruptly cut off. The Tavean’s head and shoulders fell into the hallway.
Cyria stepped back, looking at the severed head in horror.
“That’s what I was afraid off,” Alcander said, swearing softly. “It can only handle so many. Push hard enough and someone is bound to get through.”
“That’s why Nestor added the additional barrier to the center of the city,” Emane said.
“True, but they can kill a lot of rebels before they reach the center,” Drustan said as another four of the enemy fell into the magic. This time the arm of one and the leg of another pushed through before the rest of their bodies melted away.
“Let’s go,” Alcander said.
Drustan shifted into a long, thin Dragon with a body meant for maneuvering and wings built for acrobatics. Emane climbed on as Alcander shot a disk of white magic from his staff. It rolled forward, growing as it went and emitting a crackling sound. It exploded through the barrier, taking the enemy that was directly in front of the door and pushing them backwards.
Turning around, Alcander leaped onto Drustan. “I said deadly!” he yelled as Drustan galloped toward the barrier, his wings flaring out in preparation for takeoff.
“I heard you the first time, and the second!” Drustan yelled back as he burst out.
The ranks that had taken Alcander’s blast scrambled back to their feet to prevent themselves from being trampled by those filtering up.
