by Devri Walls
***
KIORA WOKE ON THE warm stone floor of the queen’s chamber. Her head was pounding and her limbs felt like they had been filled with lead. A sudden onslaught of gut-wrenching coughing racked her body and Kiora pulled herself into a ball, retching up blood and black mucous.
“I am sorry we do not have healers available for you. I was worried you were not going to make it.”
Kiora launched into another fit of coughing before she could sit up. “What happened?” she moaned, pressing her palm against her forehead.
“I told you, that air was not good for you.” The queen tsked. “I forget how fragile some of you beings are.”
Kiora smiled wearily. “Morcant called it the ‘frailties of man.’ He said we could have accomplished so much more if we weren’t so fragile.” She tried to laugh, but another coughing fit took over.
The queen looked to be hiding a smile. “You were quite fond of him, weren’t you?”
“I was. He was one of the bravest creatures I have ever met. And he taught me to listen to my heart no matter what.” Kiora tried to stand, but fell back to her knees.
“Lay down. Rest,” the queen commanded. “You nearly died.”
Kiora nodded gratefully, pressing her palm back to her temple.
“What do you wish to know?”
Kiora’s heart leaped. “You will help me?”
“I will help you with as many truths as I can—that is all I can promise. Despite my age, I don’t know everything. If I knew how to find what you need, I would have sent my captains after it myself.”
“What do I need?”
“The same thing the Shadow is searching for—the one and only exception to her power.”
Kiora’s head cleared a little with the promise of hope. “There is an exception—I knew it! But who is the Shadow? Is it Jasmine?” she asked anxiously, leaning forward.
“I think it would be better if we started at the beginning.” The queen settled in, leaning her body against the back of the throne. “The Creators made a choice to give up their immortality for those that live here. That we might have better lives.”
“But Nestor didn’t know that when he did that, it would cost him the immortality of his daughter as well,” Kiora interjected.
“Indeed.” The queen’s yellow eyebrows rose. “I am surprised you know that. Jasmine went to great lengths to hide it.”
“I started having visions shortly after I arrived.”
“And yet, you are alive.”
“Just barely.” Kiora curled her legs beneath her. “We escaped.”
“You escaped the Shadow?”
Kiora nodded, trying to ignore the horrible taste in her mouth. “The first time Jasmine sent her people, we were able to bubble and leave before they found us. The second time, she came herself. We hid underwater.”
The queen leaned in closer, her neck stretching out. “And what made you think of that?”
Kiora shrugged. “I don’t know. It was just a feeling, and I followed it. The last time we outran her, barely.”
“You have escaped the Shadow three times? That is a feat unequaled.”
“Why do you call her the Shadow, if you know who it is?”
The queen relaxed back on her throne. “You must understand—I knew Jasmine once. This Shadow, and what she does, is not the Jasmine I knew.”
“You loved her?” Kiora asked, a little befuddled by the tone in the queen’s voice.
“Little Jasmine was a beautiful and happy child who used to ride upon my back. The day her father stole her immortality planted a seed of hate within her that flourished and grew like a disease.” The queen’s head drooped. “I watched her deteriorate, watched it eat her from the inside out. By the time she began to take the Lights, Jasmine was merely a shell of the girl I had known.” She shook her head. “Unfortunately, there were others who were not as aware of the change as I was.”
“Belen?” Kiora asked, trying to piece her dreams together.
Again the queen’s eyebrows rose. “My, your visions have been informative. No wonder Jasmine is so anxious to find you. Yes, Belen. Nestor was too powerful—Jasmine knew he would protect those Lights as long as he lived. So, she went after the one person capable of making what she needed.” The queen clicked her tongue sadly. “Jasmine seduced him. My friend Belen thought he was in love. He would have done anything she asked of him—and did, as it turns out.”
“What did he make? I couldn’t understand that part of my vision.”
“He made Jasmine a magical object that gave her a power none should have—the power to yield others’ magic unusable.”
“So she could take the Lights without a fight.”
The queen sighed wearily. “That proved useful later, yes. But that was not the original purpose for the piece.”
“Then what?” Kiora’s brows furrowed.
“Jasmine needed to gain power over Nestor, to kill the man she felt had ended her life. Belen realized her intentions as he finished the piece.”
“How could he not know what she wanted it for?”
“Ah, love is a blinding thing, is it not?” She smiled weakly. “After Belen realized what Jasmine intended to do, he went straight to Nestor.”
“But I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t Nestor stop her?”
A heavy sigh rose the already warm temperature in the room. “Nestor told Belen this was their one opportunity to provide an exception.”
Kiora’s eyes flickered back and forth across the floor, still trying to pull all the pieces together. “He knew she would kill him?”
“Yes, Nestor knew. He used the little time he had left to put his plans into place. He set Belen to building his exception, the antidote to Jasmine’s talisman. He sent the other Creators away, knowing Jasmine would go after them once he was gone.”
“The Creators left before Nestor was killed?”
“Yes. Nestor knew that once she had killed him, she would wipe away any memory of herself—he had foreseen it. That included eliminating those who remembered her. Of course, that did not stop Jasmine from finding some of the Creators anyway. Incidentally, she never found the Creator whose grandchildren made up your race.”
Kiora stared blankly. “Humans are descended from the Creators?” she finally stammered. “That makes no sense—we are non-magical.”
“Most of you are, yes. The Creator’s children are, as you know, the Ancient Ones. You also know some powerful grandchildren—Eleana and Dralazar. They were gifted with the power of their forefathers. One Creator, Myron, had many children, only one of whom had any magical ability. The rest were Witows. Myron took his family and hid. Your race was born and grew in secret for a very long time.”
“I had no idea.”
“Myron was the most opposed to Nestor’s plan to allow Jasmine to continue unmolested. It is only appropriate, I suppose, that it will be his descendant who will stop her.”
“You said there was an exception. What is it?” Kiora asked.
“Nestor had Belen make another piece to the talisman.”
“What does it do?” Kiora asked, her heart racing. She was so close to the truth.
The queen’s eyes closed as she breathed out slowly. “I do not know much. I know that when separated, it acts nearly identical to the original piece, the piece Jasmine possesses. I know that if united, it will void the magic from both pieces.”
Kiora’s heart was now hammering wildly around her chest. She had seen that already in her vision. “Where can I find it?”
“I have told you, child—if I knew where to find it, I would have retrieved it.”
“You must have some idea,” she prodded.
“No, I do not. The Shadow seems to think it is buried within the Creators’ mansion. She has been digging in search of it for years.”
“That hole we flew over,” Kiora mumbled.
“After Nestor evacuated the Creators, he waited until Belen had both pieces ready. He then waited for Jasmine under h
is favorite cherry blossom tree. I do not know what happened that day, but after she killed him, the mansion imploded, vanishing amidst a cloud of smoke and dust, the ground settling back over it as if nothing had ever been there. No matter how deep Jasmine digs, she never finds anything.”
“You think the talisman is under there?”
“No, Nestor wouldn’t be foolish enough to leave it there. Although his visions were not perfect, I am sure he would have foreseen a better place to conceal such a valuable part of his plan. But I do believe something is there. And I think it waits…for you.”
Kiora frowned in confusion. “What?”
“There may yet be one remaining record of Jasmine’s existence—I suspect the Wings of Nestor were buried with the mansion to prevent Jasmine from erasing them.”
Kiora sank, her shoulders hunching. “There is only a slim chance of getting to the Wings and making it out alive.”
“So little faith already?” The queen smiled. “You have survived the Shadow three times. You are the Solus. A way will be provided.”
Kiora rubbed absently at her shirt where a certain dragon’s scale used to hang. The motion did not go unnoticed by the queen, whose eyes softened at Kiora’s display of affection.
“Is there anything else I need to know?” Kiora asked.
The queen thought for a moment. “I do not know. But I do have a gift for you—you may call on me at any time.”
A flicker of hope lit within Kiora. “Will you fight with us then, when the time comes?”
“That I will not promise.”
Her shoulders sagged again.
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.
