Wings of Nestor (Solus Series Book Three)

by Devri Walls

  “Those are warships. Capable of carrying those not gifted with flight to launch magical assaults on those who are. The Winged People, dragons, Pegasi. Their range is long enough that if the fighting is done anywhere between here and Tavea, they will be of use. Not only are the occupants deadly in skill and accuracy, but the ship is able to both protect itself and launch magic even I would be wise to fear. The aerial assaults are something I hoped never to see again. Alcander also told me of the forces being gathered in Tavea. You have caught her attention, Kiora. Jasmine will not let this go. You are far too much of a danger to her.”

  The sight of the warships had the opposite effect Lomay was intending. “But what if we took her power? What if she didn’t have the Lights to pull from? The field could be evened.”

  “Even so, that is not truly what you are after. Is it?”

  Kiora hesitated, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t want anyone to die. Not by the Shadow, not by me, and not at the hands of things like that.” She pointed to the ships. “Please, Lomay. Alcander told me what you said about visions.”

  Drustan stilled at this, looking expectantly toward Lomay as the old man rubbed his chin. “Did he? And what exactly did he say?”

  “You said, ‘To resign oneself to visions was foolishness,’ and that ‘Things are not always what they seem.’”

  “Yes.” Lomay leaned forward on his walking stick. “I said those things.”

  “There are so many unknowns, Lomay. We have to try. If we can get the Lights back, we might be able to avoid the war.”

  “And if you can’t avoid the war?”

  “Then we can’t be any worse off than we already are. We would have the Lights to pull from and maybe we could learn to harness the power, as Jasmine has. At the very least, they might give the people back some hope.”

  “Kiora,” Lomay began softly, “Alcander is right—I did say those things. And I said them all for very good reasons. But Drustan is also right—you cannot avoid your destiny. Resigning yourself to a vision is different from embracing your path.”

  “I don’t see the difference.”

  “I am sure you don’t, and neither does Alcander. Resigning is to give up, to stop trying to find a better way.”

  “But that is exactly what I am doing! I am trying to find a better way.”

  “No.” Lomay shook his head. “You are trying to find a different path. By going after the Lights first, you are putting the rebels in danger. Jasmine will know the moment one is removed from its hiding place and she will not let it go unpunished.”

  “Kiora,” Drustan pleaded. “If you stay on the path Lomay foresaw, we will have the advantage of choosing the time and place for war. That, with the talisman, offers hope of possible success.”

  Lomay looked at the determined set of Kiora’s jaw before slumping over his staff. “Do what you must. Go tell Emane and Alcander where we are going from here.”

  Kiora rushed forward, embracing Lomay before running toward the house.

  ***

  “WHAT ABOUT HERE?” EMANE asked, tapping a valley on the map. “We could gather here.”

  “Not possible,” Alcander answered.

  “Why not? It’s perfect. There are rebel camps here, here, and here. Also two this direction and one over here.”

  “Yes, and this”—Alcander brushed his hand in a full circle between the camps and the valley—“is one of highest-populated areas you could have picked. And they are not populated with anyone friendly.”

  Emane’s eyes flitted around the map. “Why, in the name of Nestor, would you place your camps so close to the enemy?”

  “The enemy assumes we could not possibly be so foolish. As a result, they never look for us there. ”

  “By that argument, this would be the perfect location.” Emane tapped the valley.

  “No, it wouldn’t.” Alcander pointed to a large spot of blue. “This lake is not only used for water, but for fishing. It would only be a matter of time before someone accidentally walked through our magical barriers, especially since there are no natural formations to prevent it. It is just trees and grass.”

  Emane swore, leaning back in his chair. “Alcander, we have been all over this map trying to find a spot to train, and according to you, it is not possible.”

  “Don’t you think if there was a place to keep everyone safely together, we would have done it? We have separated thousands of families—we would not have done that if it weren’t necessary.”

  “I understand that, but now it is necessary to have everyone together.”

  “I do not have a solution, Emane.”

  Kiora burst through the door, smiling at them both. The weight that had settled so heavily upon her shoulders felt like it had lifted, just a bit, for the first time since she had realized the state of the people on this side of the mountain.

  Emane’s eyes moved to the talisman around her neck. “I was right, then. We are going to have a battle of Witows.”

  Alcander blanched.

  Kiora hesitated, worried his response would be like Drustan’s. “I have some new information that I think might be able to prevent a war.”

  “How are we going to do that? They are already dispatching war ships,” Emane asked, genuinely confused.

  “I know where the Wings of Nestor are.”

  Alcander looked stunned, but didn’t have time to ask where they were before Emane blurted, “How is that going to help?”

  “Because they can tell us where Jasmine hid the Lights, and we are going after them.”

  Alcander blinked as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His stunned look faded to bewilderment. “Lomay knows?”

  “Yes.” She could not ignore Emane’s deflated posture. It wasn’t that he wanted war—she knew that. But he had finally felt useful, and she had just ripped that away from him.

  Alcander shook his head. “Kiora, you know I want this as much as you do, but it’s too late. Armies are being gathered—the war ships are practically at our back door. Now that she has returned, Jasmine will destroy the rebels before we get to the Lights.”

  Kiora was bursting to tell them everything she had learned in Meros. She would have told Drustan if he hadn’t been so busy either yelling at her or not speaking to her. Leaning over the table, she scanned the maps for the city she saw in Nestor’s memories. “Nestor put as many preparations in place as he could before he died, taking into account his visions of Jasmine and what she would do.” She glanced up at Alcander. “He built us a safe place to gather the people. I think we should move the women and children there in case Jasmine figures out what we are doing and launches her attack. It will keep them safe, but leave the others available to help if we need it.”

  Alcander and Emane exchanged a glance before Emane asked, “Where?”

  Kiora hesitated, trying to compare these modern maps with the memories she had received from Nestor. She brought her finger down in almost the exact location Emane had just been trying to convince Alcander to use.

  Alcander sank into a chair, running his fingers through his hair. “By the Creators, it doesn’t matter what we do—there is always something in the way.”

  “What is the problem?” Kiora asked.

  “There is no way we can maintain a magical barrier there. And that problem is only secondary—the first being, we can’t get to it.” He pushed himself up, slamming his finger into the map. “The enemy is thick there and there. The area is heavily trafficked and heavily protected. It is not possible.”

  “No.” Kiora shook her head, pointing to the valley Alcander had been so violently indicating. “Not there. There.” She tapped right on the blue lake.

  Drustan and Lomay came in quietly, Lomay looking over Kiora’s shoulder while Drustan dropped disinterestedly into a chair.

  Kiora grinned at the group. “Nestor built an entire city underground. Under that lake.”

  “Under the lake? Truly?” Lomay said.

  “Yes. The wate
r hid the traces of magic he used to create it so Jasmine wouldn’t find it. There are ten entrances spinning out like this.” With her finger, she drew long spindles coming out from the lake like wagon-wheel spokes. “Nine can only be opened from the inside, leaving no magical traces. Nestor crafted the outside entrance with two protections. One: you have to know the right enchantment. And two: you have to have this.” She held up the talisman.

  Alcander leaned on the table, his long hair hanging down and hiding his face. “How do you know all this?”

  “Nestor left me his memories, as if they are my own. Everything he needed me to know is in here now.” She tapped the side of her head.

  Alcander turned to look at her, scowling.

  “What?’

  “There is only one way to do that,” Lomay said. “He would have needed to give up his life for you.”

  Sinking back into her chair, she whispered, “He did. Nestor let Jasmine kill him. It was the only way to put the preparations in place to defeat her.”

  The room was quiet as Emane silently eased himself into a chair.

  “He used every bit of magic to create everything—the city, the talisman, the protections. When Jasmine killed him, it finalized the magic. His palace sank and the city gates under the lake sealed. After Jasmine left, Belen took the talisman and Nestor’s memories to Meros.”

  “Did he know?” Alcander asked hoarsely. “Did he know how long it would be before you came—how many would die?”

  She didn’t want to answer—he wouldn’t understand. “Yes,” she said.

  Alcander’s hands clenched into fists, his jaw tight.

  Emane leaned over the map. “Where is the tenth entrance?”

  “There.” Kiora tore her eyes off Alcander to point to a place out of the valley to the north.

  Alcander sprang into action. “There?” He slammed his finger down next to Kiora’s.

  Kiora jerked back, eyes wide at the outburst.

  Alcander stared at the location, his shoulders pulled up nearly to his ears. “It makes sense,” he finally said, his shoulders slowly lowering. “For years this place had huge numbers of guards that never moved. Then one day, the guards vanished, and in their place stood a huge black castle, completely uninhabited, near as we can tell from the air. It is guarded by an Illusionist, we think—you can feel its thread. Not that it would be needed, considering the other security measures the villages use. We imagined the Shadow was involved because no one goes there, just like the Manor.”

  “Jasmine doesn’t know what it is,” Kiora thought out loud. “She just knows it has something to do with Nestor, so she is guarding it.”

  Alcander returned to his scowling, this time directing it at the map.

  “I have to go in through that entrance—it’s the only way. But we could have Lomay waiting at one of the others with the women and children. As soon as we are inside, we can open the other door, and once they are safe, we can go after the Wings of Nestor.”

  “Where are the Wings?” Emane asked.

  “Right where Jasmine thinks they are,” Kiora said. “Right where the Dragon Queen suspected.”

  Alcander swore. “Did Nestor leave plans for how to get through their defenses?”

  “No, he didn’t need to. There is an entrance to a tunnel that leads to the Wings. It’s close to where they are digging, but far enough away that we should be able to do it.”

  “Then what?” Emane asked. “After we have the people hidden and we get to the Wings?”

  Kiora took a deep breath. She had been mentally running through this the entire way home from Meros. “The Wings will be able to show us where Jasmine hid the Lights. It’s why she wants them so badly—they are the only record left. After we get the Lights, she won’t have her power or her immortality. If she still wants to go to war without those advantages—” Kiora squared her shoulders. “Then we will.”

  Lomay surveyed the map. “It will be dangerous, bringing everyone to wait outside the door. The people will be nervous. I will need Emane to come with me.”

  “What? Why?” Emane demanded.

  “It will do the people good to see you. They need to remember that their Solus and their Protector are still fighting for them.”

  Emane narrowed his eyes, appraising Lomay. “That’s not why. That’s just a reason you don’t think I can argue with.”

  Lomay’s eyes laughed. “I continue to underestimate you.”

  “You and everyone else,” Emane said.

  “You have to be able to mask your thread to get where they are going, and that, my boy, is outside the realm of possibility for you, I am afraid.”

  Kiora felt the color draining from her face. Alcander had tried to teach her to mask her thread once at the island camp on Lake Everleen. It had been disastrous.

  Alcander caught Kiora’s eye before explaining, “The area has heavy security. The only way to get to this entrance is to walk straight through one of the villages. I would suggest this one.” He pointed. “With this new information, it is clear that the security is not random. Jasmine is trying to keep everyone away from the castle. The other entrances to the city are far enough away that Lomay should be able to sneak the people around the populated areas—assuming no more traps have been laid since we last scouted.”

  “Why can’t we just fly over?” Emane asked. “You already said it had been scouted from the air.”

  “We did, from higher than will be of any use to us. They have security measures that fire randomly. Making it from here to there without popping a bubble or triggering something would be nothing short of a miracle.”

  Kiora fought nausea as she imagined trying to mask her thread again, but she couldn’t think of any other way.

  “I will call Arturo to take you and Lomay where you need to go,” she said.

  Emane crossed his arms, clearly displeased.

  “Am I to assume I have been voted in on this foolhardy mission of yours?” Drustan asked.

  “We need a Shifter,” Kiora said.

  “How lovely for me.”

  “Drustan.” Lomay’s voice held a warning tone.

  Drustan stood, his eyes locked on Kiora. “Let it be known, I do not agree with this. Not with the mission or the way you are going about it. I will keep my mouth shut from here on out, I will stand by your side, and I will do what needs to be done. And I truly hope the day never comes where I have to say I told you so.” Keeping his head high, he left the room.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Confessions

  KIORA STOOD ON THE balcony of her room in a nightdress that was far too lightweight for the chill of night. Fall had taken a firm hold on the land and the promise of snow whispered on the wind. She wrapped her arms around herself. The warm blankets of her bed and the fire crackling in the fireplace beckoned to her, but she couldn’t bring herself to go in. Instead, she breathed in the salty air, trying to sort out her thoughts. She felt strange, as if her mind had become public property. She could feel Alcander’s protection wrapped around it, and now Nestor’s thoughts and memories swooped and intertwined with hers. It was immensely uncomfortable. A smile ghosted across her lips. Perhaps she did understand Alcander just a little. She closed her eyes and listened to the waves crashing in and out, relaxing.

  As Alcander’s thread moved from his room into the hall, she couldn’t help but turn her head expectantly. But when he walked past her bedroom door, disappointment dropped into her chest like a rock. She felt him go down the stairs and past the meeting room. She saw him stride into the yard below. He stopped and looked up at her, holding her gaze for a few tension-filled moments before turning and walking to the edge of the cliff.

  Kiora grabbed a jacket and shoved her feet into boots. She looked ridiculous, she knew, but she was too tired and distracted to care. Making her way down the stairs, she followed the path Alcander had taken outside.

  Walking across the grass, Kiora came up next to him, joining his silent vigil as they stared out to s
ea.

  “I am going to miss this place,” she said. “The sea is relaxing.”

  “It is,” he agreed.

  “So…” Kiora cleared her throat, smoothing down her jacket. “What are you using the sea for this evening? What thoughts are you trying to push away?”

  Alcander glanced sidelong at her. “How could Nestor have known we would suffer, how many would die, and allow it?”

  Kiora slid her hand sympathetically down Alcander’s arm. “I don’t know everything. I can feel holes in the memories he left me—he only gave me what he thought I needed to know. But I do know that Nestor searched through many different plans. He began to carry out the plans so he could receive visions of the results. No matter what he did, they always failed and everyone was lost. This was the only way.” She searched his face. “You look tired.”

  He coughed a short laugh. “Do I?”

  She evaluated his stance. “Yes. Your shoulders are lower—here.” She delicately touched his shoulder. “Your back is slouched. And your eyes…” She ran her finger over his cheekbone and he shuddered beneath her touch. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, pulling her hand back.

  “Don’t be sorry.” His voice was thick and husky. “I am tired. I have spent my whole life being angry.”

  Kiora clenched the side of her coat to keep from running her fingers over his face again. “I have never understood that. How could you be filled with so much anger and remain on the right side?”

  Alcander was quiet for a long time, his brows furrowed in thought. His mouth opened and then closed. A choking sound came out, but still no words. He looked to her desperately, tears swimming in his eyes.

  Kiora grabbed his elbows as she frantically searched his face, trying to decipher what just happened. “Alcander! What’s the matter?”

  Look, Alcander’s voice pleaded in her head. Please. I can’t say it. As his words came, so did everything else. And then she saw.

  He felt boiling fury that his people were not protected, that the Solus had failed to appear—especially when the years rolled past and the deaths piled up. The anger was so intense at times that he had considered walking away and joining the Shadow’s forces.