Wings of Nestor

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Wings of Nestor Page 11

by Walls, Devri


  The queen leaned her head forward as if sharing a secret. “Your show of love toward Morcant means more to me than you know, little one.”

  Kiora gasped. “How did you know he used to call me that?”

  The queen’s eyes became shiny with tears. Kiora had never seen a dragon cry. “I did not,” she said. “It is what I used to call him when he was very small.”

  “You remember him?”

  “Kiora, your actions would have touched my heart, regardless of which dragon you loved. But the dragon whose scale you returned home was my son.”

  Kiora surged to her feet, stumbling toward the queen, a ragged sob escaping. Startled, the dragon’s wings flew out as Kiora threw her arms around the queen’s neck. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Your son saved my life. I can never repay his actions.”

  The queen sighed, pulling her wings forward to wrap them around Kiora.

  ***

  AS THE QUEEN FLEW her up through the volcano, Kiora gazed at the beauty of the crystal structures. The dragons on each level stopped, looking curiously at her.

  “The queen does not give rides,” she explained, short of breath. “But for you, I make an exception.”

  “I don’t want to exhaust you,” Kiora objected.

  “I am getting very old, child. Everything exhausts me.”

  “How long…” Kiora bit her tongue.

  “How long will I live?” She chuckled. “Is that what you were going to ask?”

  “Yes, but it was insensitive and unnecessary. I apologize.”

  The queen landed on the stone overhang, the door to the outside blazing bright in the full sunlight.

  “No apologies needed. I don’t know—I certainly didn’t expect to live as long as I have.” Kiora grabbed hold of the queen’s tail and was lifted to the ground. “But my lost son has finally come home. I can die peacefully when the time comes.”

  The queen gave Arturo a nod of acknowledgement as he flew through the doorway.

  “It has been a long time since I have seen a Pegasus,” the queen said.

  Tell her I send my thanks for taking good care of you, Arturo thought.

  Kiora blushed. “He wants to thank you for taking care of me.”

  “You are both welcome on the island anytime,” the queen announced. Leaning her neck down, she very gently set the bottom of her jaw on top of Kiora’s head. Kiora smiled at the affectionate gesture. When the queen straightened, she looked down at Kiora as she spread her wings. “Good luck, Kiora. Do not lose faith.” She rose from the ground before disappearing over the edge.

  It seems you made an impression.

  Kiora climbed on Arturo’s back. “Morcant was her son.”

  Arturo’s head snapped up. You are kidding.

  “No.”

  Sometimes even tragedy provides a way for something remarkable.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Understanding

  AS SHE PUSHED OPEN THE main doors to Lomay’s house, she heard a shout. “Kiora!” Emane yelled, leaping out of his chair and running straight at her. He picked her up and twirled her around. She wasn’t expecting it and her smile quickly dropped as she sent magic jarring through him. He set her down as naturally as he could, but she noticed his fists clenching at his side as soon as he released her.

  “You look happy,” Emane said. “It went well, then?”

  “I know what we need to know.” She smiled at Alcander over Emane’s shoulder.

  Lomay shuffled himself as quickly as he could down the hallway. “You’re back. Come, come.” He motioned. “We have much to talk about, I’m sure.”

  The room was a large circle. The outside wall curved around and was dotted with evenly spaced windows that looked out to the ocean. High-backed purple velvet chairs surrounded a round table that sat in the middle of the room. They each took a seat.

  “So, Kiora,” Lomay said, lacing his fingers together in front of him. “You met the queen?”

  “I did.” A wistful smile passed over Kiora’s face. “She was very helpful.”

  “Your theory, then?” Alcander asked. “Was it correct?”

  “The Shadow is Jasmine.”

  Kiora explained everything the queen had told her. About Jasmine, about Nestor, and about Belen. She explained that the talisman was causing the loss of magic and how Jasmine had blackened all the Wings but one. She explained the queen’s theory that one set of Wings, the Wings of Nestor, were buried in Nestor’s palace.

  “The Wings might be able to tell us where Nestor hid the other talisman,” Kiora explained. “And where the Lights are.”

  “But it’s impossible to get there,” Alcander said. “The defenses around that pit are impenetrable. We would be discovered before we got anywhere near it.”

  “We have to try, Alcander,” Kiora said.

  “What did she say about the other talisman?” Emane asked.

  “It acts similar to the first talisman.”

  “Hmmm.” Emane’s fingers drummed the table.

  “There must be another way for us to find the talisman Belen made,” Lomay said. “Perhaps Drustan could be of service. He might have suggestions of places Shapeshifters would hold sacred, or any legends—”

  “Where is Drustan?” Kiora asked.

  “Sleeping,” Emane said absently.

  “Lomay, the Shadow has hosts of Shapeshifters at her disposal,” Alcander pointed out. “Surely she has exhausted that avenue.”

  “True, true,” Lomay muttered, tapping at his chin. “On the bright side, the fact that an answer exists is remarkable!”

  “Yes.” Alcander scowled. “An answer we can’t find or get access to is a very helpful development indeed.”

  “I may be getting ahead of things,” Emane said, “but if Jasmine has a talisman that prevents magic, and we are trying to get Kiora a talisman that will also prevent magic…” He paused, drawing it out. “It would stand to reason that when we go to battle, we will all be fighting as Witows.”

  The room went very quiet. Alcander had visibly paled, and even Lomay looked shocked. Emane grinned, and then chuckled, before bursting out into laughter as he pushed back his chair. “This is grand,” he said, throwing his arm into the air. “Just grand!”

  “What could possibly be grand about this?” Alcander growled.

  “It all makes sense!” Emane said, walking around Alcander’s chair. “For the first time since this whole crazy thing started, it finally makes sense!” He did a flamboyant turn, still grinning like a fool. “I’m the first Protector with not a drop of magic in him. A Protector who was prophesied to be of royal blood—who, incidentally, would be the only person in Meros with the skill and knowledge to use non-magical weapons.” He laughed, looking to the ceiling. “And they still don’t get it! Don’t you see? I am going to need to train all of you.” Emane put his hands on his hips, looking at the three. “You all have to learn how to fight like a Witow.”

  Kiora finally broke the stunned silence. “It might not matter, if we can’t find the talisman.”

  “Oh, Kiora,” Emane said, plopping back in his chair. “You already know where it is.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes. And so do I.”

  The truth came flooding in a rush. The land of no magic, the feel of insect feet climbing all over her—the whispers. “Tell no one,” over and over. “Tell no one.” Kiora’s hands flew to her mouth.

  Alcander stood so abruptly, he nearly sent the chair crashing to the floor. Lomay looked highly interested, as always.

  “You know where it is?” Alcander shouted.

  Kiora’s hand was still over her mouth, her green eyes wide. She gave one slow nod.

  “Where is it?”

  Kiora looked back to Emane, who gave an almost imperceptible shake in the negative. “I’m sorry, Alcander—I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about it. I didn’t understand why, but I do now.”

  Lomay laughed and slapped his leg. “Belen certainly hid it well. Genius.”

/>   “Now you know where it is?”

  “Not exactly, no.” Lomay smiled at Alcander. “But if Kiora and Emane are the only ones who know, I can certainly narrow it down.”

  “Meros,” Alcander muttered. “He hid it in Meros!” He slammed his hand onto the table. “All these years of pain! Of loss of life, loss of entire societies, species!” His cheeks were red. “All this time, and everything and anything that would have helped us was locked inside Meros!”

  “Alcander, it needed to be protected,” Lomay said, trying to soothe his anger. “And in its own way, it was.”

  Alcander slammed his fist into the table again before storming toward the door.

  “I apologize for his temper,” Lomay said.

  Alcander turned, marching back in. “I do not need you or anyone else apologizing for me. We have been trying to save lives, to save the goodness throughout the land. And Nestor made sure our only hope would be locked up in a place where we would never, ever go. He left us helpless! My temper is completely justified.”

  “Alcander, be practical. We did not know what we needed until five minutes ago when Kiora finally came out with the information we never had. Who did you think would have found that talisman first—us or the Shadow?

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do. Nestor’s visions were powerfully accurate. He put that talisman in the one place it needed to be.”

  Alcander clenched and unclenched his fists, his mouth pinched with disapproval. Turning on his heel, he left the room.

  Kiora fought the urge to chase after him. She could feel how much he was hurting.

  “Well, well,” Lomay said, stretching back in his chair. “Your role has changed quite dramatically, hasn’t it, Emane?”

  “There is so much to do,” Emane said. “I need to write down what we will require. I will need numbers, how many soldiers…and maps,” he added. “Where the battle will be staged. Yes.” Emane nodded more to himself than the two still at the table. Pushing back his chair, he left the room, muttering to himself about weapons and training.

  “Is he correct?” Lomay asked as he watched Emane go. “You know the location of the talisman?”

  “I think so, yes.”

  “I will leave you to retrieve it.” Lomay rubbed his chin again and Kiora found herself wondering how his skin was not red under the assault it was receiving. “You should probably go sooner rather than later. Emane and Alcander have an enormous job ahead of them, and not a moment can be wasted. Who would you like to accompany you back to Meros? Arturo or Drustan?”

  “Uhh,” Kiora stumbled. “Drustan.”

  “Still do not trust me with him?”

  “What? No! I don’t trust him with them.” Kiora jerked her head toward the door.

  Lomay smiled. “I see. When would you like to leave?”

  Kiora’s bones and muscles ached from the ride to and from Toopai, not to mention the fact that she had nearly been killed by volcano fumes and could still feel a thick heaviness in her chest. She should have Emane fix that before she left. “Tomorrow. I can leave in the morning.”

  ***

  AS SHE WALKED PAST Emane’s room, Kiora noticed the door was cracked open. Peeking around it, she saw Emane sitting on his bed, a large piece of paper spread out in front of him.

  She poked her head in. “Emane?”

  “Just writing down what we will need,” he said, not moving his eyes from his work.

  “How are you?”

  Emane stopped, looking up at her. Her heart constricted a bit. He was so handsome. His blue eyes, his blond hair that always fell forward. He placed a hand on his leg and gave her a half smile. “I feel like, at last the world makes just a little bit of sense.”

  “I wish I wasn’t going to miss your first few training sessions.”

  Emane blanched. “What are you talking about?”

  “I have to go back, Emane. We need the talisman.” Kiora held up her finger to cut off his objections. “You have to stay here.” She pointed to his scribbled notes. “There is much for you to do, and your calling is finally clear. You can’t leave now.”

  Emane came around the bed, taking her hands in his. Looking down, he said, “You are still getting stronger. Can you feel it?”

  She looked at his fingers, alarmed. His knuckles were white. “Am I hurting you?” Kiora asked, her voice rising. “I thought I was holding it in.” She tried to jerk her hands back, but he held tightly.

  “I am sure you are.” Emane dropped his eyes. “Trust me, I know when it slips. That is what I mean—you are still getting stronger.”

  She tried again to jerk her hands free. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Letting go, Emane gently ran his fingers over her cheek. “I don’t think that can be helped,” he murmured, tilting his head to the side. “Not anymore.”

  “Emane,” she whispered, her voice hitching.

  “Are you leaving in the morning?”

  “I am.”

  Emane carefully tucked a stray hair behind her ear, his eyes meeting Kiora’s with hunger before carefully placing his lips over hers.

  The touch of his lips set her insides on fire. Kiora wanted to give in to him and let the hunger inside take over. Instead, every muscle in her body constricted, trying to keep the magic tightly reined in. Her eyes squeezed shut. She couldn’t do this. Love or not, any romantic actions between them left her physically unable to touch him.

  Emane’s shoulders dropped. Pulling back, he kissed the tip of her nose. “I had better get to work.”

  Kiora bit her lip. Her body was burning with a need to be held and touched—she knew he felt it too. But her magic stood in the way. Turning stiffly, she closed the door behind her until it caught with a click.

  Her chest jerked with a silent sob she refused to let Emane hear and she clamped her hands over her mouth. Putting one hand behind her, Kiora eased herself against the door, pulling in great, gulping breaths. It seemed so horribly unfair. Fighting the urge to punch something, Kiora shoved off and headed down the hall to her room.

  But she stopped at her door, her eyes traveling down the hall. She looked back over her shoulder to Emane’s room, heart aching, before she took a step farther down the hall, and then another.

  What am I doing? she screamed inside her own head. But her feet continued to move closer and closer to Alcander’s door. Soon, she was staring at her hand on the knob, unable to make herself let go. Suddenly the door jerked out from her hand and Kiora jumped back.

  Standing on the other side was a weary-looking Alcander. His hair hung in front of his hunched shoulders, his eyes tired. “Are you going to stand there all night?”

  “I—” Kiora stopped. She didn’t know what to say, but she hadn’t really come down here to talk. She rushed forward, grabbing his shoulders as she pushed her lips against his.

  For a brief moment, he froze in surprise. Then his arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight to him. She moaned against his mouth, her body going fluid in his arms. Reaching up, she ran her fingers through his hair. It was smooth and silky under her touch. Alcander pulled her in tighter as if something were trying to steal her away. Harder and harder he kissed her. She returned each one, not having to hold her magic in, not worried about hurting him. His magic flowed between them, making her head spin and flames pinwheel throughout her body. She hardly even noticed him pulling her back into his room and kicking the door shut behind them. Turning, he pressed her against the door, his hands running over her face and sides.

  Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her, slower now—sweeter. She felt his teeth gently pull at her bottom lip, turning her knees to jelly before he sighed and placed his forehead on hers. Kiora ran her fingers up and down the back of his neck.

  Putting her hands on his chest, Kiora gently pushed Alcander back. “What’s wrong? When you opened the door, you looked like the world was resting on your shoulders.” She was overly familiar with that feeling; it was easy to recognize.
r />   Alcander turned away from her and sat on the edge of the bed. “This is very strange for me, Kiora.”

  She frowned. “Kissing me?”

  He gave a short laugh. “Kissing you is anything but strange.”

  His gaze turned Kiora’s insides back to liquid.

  “Taveans are very private people. We guard our thoughts and our feelings.” He shook his head. “But from the moment I met you, I have wanted to share things with you. And now, with the bond and the mind connection, I feel this need to talk to you. It is just strange.”

  “Why is that bad?” Kiora asked, making her way over to the bed. Sitting down next to him, she hesitantly placed her hand on his knee.

  His mouth quirked up. “You feel so good.”

  She blushed, but did not move her hand. Her mind was screaming at her somewhere back in the recesses that Emane would be devastated, but she didn’t know what to do. She loved Emane—she would give her life for him. But she also loved Alcander. And this love she could touch and feel without fear.

  “I am furious with Nestor, that he let Jasmine kill him and allowed this to happen.” Alcander spoke dryly, lacking the actual vocal anger that should have accompanied that sentence. Instead, he just sounded tired.

  “Is that all?”

 

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