by Sara Kincaid
Chapter Two
Eli
Eagle Palace rose in the distance, the majestic sandstone glowing with warmth beneath the spring sun’s light. Eli stared at the towering parapets, the golden flag bearing the eagle eye and claw, and the flat lookout points, pretending he could see her from such a distance. Her. Rina.
Branches from the stout ebony tree in which he sat jutted out over his head, bathing him in a tepid, verdant shadow. Clothed in green, he’d be hard to see mixed with the wide, palm-like leaves.
Master Moriyo had told him to stay in the Mystic’s enclave. But he’d grown bored and anxious as he sat in the shadows in a frond-covered hut filled with curls of acrid smoke from his master’s pipe.
While Master Moriyo went on his mystical journeys in hopes of discovering why the Kaldarians were attacking, Eli was consumed with thoughts of Rina. They’d been separated for just two days, but it seemed a lifetime. Their jobs often found them separated for weeks. But this time was different because they’d parted in discord.
“Eli.” Master Moriyo’s ancient, gravelly voice wafted up through the trees.
Eli shifted, the tools held in the belt around his waist clinking softly together as he moved. Master Moriyo materialized out of the wild foliage. The Mystic was impossibly old with a square chin and a flat face. His once black hair was gray and thinning at his temples. The remaining strands were pulled back in a long ponytail that dangled down his back. Eli’s shaggy head peaked out between two giant fronds, his feathery hair falling in his face. “Yes, Master?”
“Didn’t I tell you to stay in the enclave?” His tone was soft and devoid of reproach, a far cry from the tone he’d used two days earlier when he’d ordered Eli to accompany him and the other Mystics to their enclave on the side of Mt. Yama.
“Yes, Master.” The old man watched as Eli scampered down from the branches of the sacred tree. Back on the ground, Eli bit his lip, keeping the smile that threatened to spread across his face at bay as he looked down at the frail old man who ordered him around, at times, like a military recruit.
Satisfied, Moriyo turned and melted into the brush. Eli glanced back in the direction of Eagle Palace, Rina’s name on his lips and regret full in his chest.
The Mystics’ enclave could not be found on any map. It was buried in the heart of Mt. Yama, somewhere between the path that crawled along her spine bearing the legendary Shrine of a Thousand Doorways and the winding streams that trickled down from her apex. Mt. Yama, mountain of secrets, was the perfect place for the Mystics of Burga to reside and practice their craft, conferring with the goddess, Nia, and harnessing the spark, her gift to the people of Mantinea.
Eli sat cross-legged facing Master Moriyo, watching as shadows cast by the flames of a small fire danced across his face. The hour was late and tiny stars pierced the blue-black veil above them. On clear nights, Eli had taken to sleeping out beneath the night sky, feeling more at rest in the grips of the mountain than at the feet of his master in his tiny hut. “Any clues from your journey this afternoon?”
Moriyo grunted and opened his eyes, his back straight, his chin pointed toward the sky, “Nia is silent. What news from your journey, young one?”
Eli’s lips quirked into a sardonic smile and he stared into the flames at his feet. “The Aviators were perched on watch at the palace while the ground troops face off with the Kaldarians at the gates of the city. But at some point, something drew them away. I fear the city walls will be breached.” Fighting had slowed for the night, but during the day, Eli could hear echoes of the battle raging from the mountainside. “What will happen to our people?”
The old man sighed and offered a half-hearted shrug. “Only Nia knows, and she’s not telling.”
After the fires had been banked and the old masters had fallen asleep, Eli rose from his pallet, tied his belt around the waist of his green tunic and shrugged into a fur-lined jacket. Sleep eluded him, so he answered the call of the mountain.
Outside of the Mystic’s enclave, the winds circled his waist, pulling at his belt and mussing his deep brown hair as it whispered in his ear. Danger. Beware. The words echoed in his belly and his body tensed with anticipation.
Since being taken in by the Mystics, Eli had grown used to the mountain’s strange habits. Others often talked of the mountain speaking to them through the voice of the wind. But the experience always made the hair on the back of his neck rise. The runes on his chest burned as he called the spark to his hands with a few whispered words in the dark. Finally, a small flame appeared and a thanks to Nia for her gift came to his lips. He caressed the orb of light, the silver flame crackling as it bounced between his thumb and fingers.
There were few visible paths on the mountain, but Eli had spent enough time on Mt. Yama and had learned many of her secrets. He glided through the green foliage, the wind still pushing at his back. Her will was strong and insistent, so he let her guide him.
The wind took him on a new trek, winding down across the path of the shrine along the mountain’s spine toward its base. To his left, a small pond shivered, fingers of ice spreading across the surface as the temperature continued to drop. He paused for a moment to admire the glow of the moon across its surface as it rose over the shoulder of the great mountain.
The cracking of twigs broke him from his reverie and Eli stumbled back into the brush, extinguishing the spark between is palms in a hiss of smoke. A moment later, an orange flame bobbed in the water, reflecting from across the pond.
A group of soldiers appeared on the opposite bank, the glow of their torches illuminating their blood-red uniforms. “How can there be no map of this place? What does the Regent expect us to do? Search the whole bloody mountain? By the goddess, we’re not bloody hounds.”
“They’re here. And we’re not leaving until we find them. If you keep complaining, we’ll leave you on this mountain to find your own way home. How’d you like that?”
Eli backed further into the brush and pulled his coat closer around him. The Kaldarians were here. Immediately, Eli’s thoughts turned to Rina. The Kaldarians’ attack on the city was just a diversion. They were here for the Mystics.
Eli paused, the wind tugging at his tunic. Flurries pirouetted down, the sky growing dark as thick clouds blanketed the moon. Should he return to the Mystics and protect them? Or try to find the Burgan soldiers and alert them to the ruse?
His heart tugged him to the palace and to Rina. He’d built wings for her and given her the gift of flight by carving runes into his flesh to increase his power and deliver the impossible. They’d grown close, aligning against the coup that threatened Regent Arayna, sharing living quarters when Rina was on leave and so much more. In an instant, Eli recalled the sorrow in her eyes as she denied his request for her hand two days ago. The icy feeling of her rejection froze him from the inside. You know why I can’t. He did know. But he didn’t care.
His chest tightened as he warred with heart and duty. Masters Moriyo, Zaid, Eli and Eira. They were the only ties that Burga had left to Nia and to the spark. The Mystics were his people and he couldn’t abandon them. Eli turned and ran.
Chapter Three
Rina
“NightWind.” Raze’s voice was husky and thick with battle, his thin mouth puckered and his blue jacket dirtied with blood and dust.
Rina cringed, hating the sound of her name, battle name or given, in Raze Uxton’s mouth. Even in the cluster of battle, his voice had the power to pierce her through. A mistake. He was a mistake that would never give her peace. Rina swung her bow up over her shoulder and turned to look at her battalion leader.
“FireStorm?” She awaited her orders, her own sword within easy reach of her belt. The two fought well together and Rina knew that this was why she’d been called to his side away from her own group of fliers.
He regarded her with bronze eyes over an aquiline nose. His chin was triangular, accentuating
sharp cheekbones and framed by black sideburns. “Find IceRider and WaveRunner and take the north tower. Dive if you must. But keep them out of the upper palace. The Regent must be protected.”
It was strange to hear Raze expressing concern for the Regent, given the fact that he’d tried to uproot her not two years prior. But, with the Kaldarians advancing through the city, he’d finally been forced to allow the Aviators to join the fray. To not come to the aid of the Regent would have been treasonous. And yet so much of what Raze had already done bordered on treason. Niko would be ashamed if he knew. He’d be ashamed if he knew what Rina had done, too.
Oxblood coats filled the palace grounds, locked in battle with pockets of blue garrison leaders and brown-clad soldiers. Every hour it seemed another comrade fell, pierced by sword point and overrun by their brutal foes. Fallen Burgans littered the ground. The stink of death and the metallic scent of blood mingled with the sweet scent of the blooming flowers. “One flock,” Raze called in dismissal, his face grim, his sword at ready as he left to find another fray.
A series of dead Kaldarians blocked Rina’s path, evidence of the lethal pairing they made. A small sigh of relief hissed through her teeth as she watched his back retreating. When he disappeared around the corner of one of the many outpost buildings, Rina changed direction, heading across the green square to the north tower. After reporting to Raze that morning, he’d separated her from her partner, Eldon and their third, Jarem, sending them off to handle other parts of the palace.
The heat of battle pulsed in Rina’s veins, her adrenalin high and her breath fast and shallow. Twice in recent days they had faced the Kaldarians at their borders. Today, the enemy had broken through to the gates of Eagle Palace. The worst had happened.
Rina glanced at the quiver on her left arm, counting her remaining arrows before taking one to arm her bow. Despite the long night of fighting, she still had a few left.
Rina thought wistfully of her sister, Halay, hoping she was safe. Eagle Palace sat high on a hill beneath Mt. Yama and Rina’s duties kept her from going to check on her sister. Down in the city below, blood pooled in crevices and bodies littered the streets.
Large trees jutted up to the clear blue sky and for once, Rina wished the square had been bare. She jumped over intricately trimmed hedges, her boots hitting the dirt path roughly. Heavy-booted soldiers from the ground Beta battalion rushed past in organized chaos, smashing carefully manicured plants and pathways. Finally, after passing through a dark alley between one of the lower palaces and the prayer room, Rina spotted IceRider and WaveRunner. She held her arm aloft to grab their attention. “With me, Aviators,” she shouted into the brawl of firing weapons and shouts of those already on the defensive.
IceRider and WaveRunner ran to her side. “One flock,” IceRider replied, giving her a brief nod of his square head. His wings were folded tightly at his back, a splay of dark gray feathers that would render him invisible in the sky once night fell.
“One flock,” WaveRunner echoed, his spiky hair drooping with sweat. Rina waved her hand, dismissing the formal greetings, but her heart filled with relief to see that her companions were safe.
The gold slash across the left side of Rina’s face had long ago been smudged as she’d fought through the tumble of soldiers in the field the previous afternoon. There’d been no time to rest and no time for vanity either. The angry red arc burned visibly beneath the gold paint. Her fellow soldiers looked at the ground to avoid staring. “We have orders from FireStorm. We are to defend the North Tower. The Regent must be protected at all costs.”
The North Tower was attached to the upper palace where the Regent and any high-ranking family or officials would be hidden during an attack. The high tower was surrounded by a precarious balcony that encircled the pointed turret. One side looked up at the stark cliff face of Mt. Yama and the other faced the palace grounds, giving them an advantageous view of the gardens below.
As she jogged up the last set of stairs, the mountain came into view and Rina was reminded, just like every time she caught sight of the ancient giant, of the vows she had taken at its’ base before Mystic Zaid, Firestorm and Burgan military commander, Khalid Shin. Like a wedding vow, binding and for life.
The three Aviators spread out silently around the outer circle of the tower. Rina drew an arrow and pulled her bowstring taut. Her two partners followed suit. Rina faced the mountain and felt her stomach tighten. If the Kaldarians made it this far, there was no hope for them.
Knees bent deeply, Rina crept closer to the wall and a large open window that looked out onto the city below. Her jacket flapped gently in the breeze.
She let her bow go slack and watched the chaos from afar. Civilians ran in all directions, flashes of light arced in the air as blades were drawn, catching the sun.
Frustration rose and Rina returned the arrow to the quiver on her left arm with a huff. They should be down in the city in the melee protecting the people, facing the Kaldarians before they had the chance to make it inside the palace walls. This was the point of major contention between Rina and Raze, beyond their former romance. Raze believed that the Aviators were elite and somehow exempt from regular battles.
When Regent Arayna had assumed leadership of Burga following the death of her uncle and in lieu of her brother, Tevin, Raze had been furious. Solon had always hesitated in using them, believing their flying machines to be too precious to waste on an everyday matters. But Burga had been at odds with Kaldar for many years and the new Regent wanted to put a stop to the fighting once and for all.
Tevin was rumored to be of a similar temperament as his uncle and, in the eyes of the Aviator battalion leader, worthy of the title of Regent. But it was Arayna who’d passed the test administered by the Mystics, not her brother. Her eyes were the ones that blazed from a dark brown to the keen gold of the eagle when the Mystics had called forth the ancient spell. It was her blood that claimed the throne.
On their first assignment under the new Regent, Raze had exploded in a harsh tirade in their barracks. At first, Rina had agreed with him. She’d been in love with him and thought he could do no wrong. It’s true what they say, love blinds you. Luckily, Rina learned to see the light.
“It’s a ruse!” Rina turned in the direction of Jarem’s voice. He pointed off in the distance toward Mt. Yama. Rina and Eldon sprinted to the window facing the mountain. Mt. Yama was stoic in the slanted daylight, her face dark with tree shadows. Rina grasped Jarem’s shoulder. “I saw them! They’re climbing the mountain!”
“The Mystics!” Eldon slammed his fist into his palm. Across the valley, they could see flashes of oxblood uniforms cresting the mountain.
Chapter Four
Eli
It was in blackness that Nia, the goddess, was born and it was in blackness that her people lived until she pulled the spark from her breast and gave it to the Mystics, her disciples and her servants. Eli was not raised as a devout servant, but the first time he successfully pulled the spark from the ether, he had to admit that there was something otherworldly at work. How else could he have created light from nothing? The spark meant that Nia’s disciples would never be alone in the dark as she had been when she first came to be.
Although he carried the power to keep the night at bay, Eli could not control time, and time was exactly what he needed. Eli kept his breathing quiet as he melted through the trees, his feet carrying him with a sense of urgency he’d never felt before. Running up the mountain was much harder than the trek down. He stumbled over twisted roots that reared up and blocked his path. Dirt gathered in his nails and embedded itself in the soft skin of his palms. The wind whistled in his ears, pushing at his back. Hurry. Don’t delay.
There was no way to get word to the palace or anyone from the military. The Mystics were on their own. With any luck, the mountain would do its job and keep them hidden from the intruders.
Eli came to one of the man
y creek beds, the curvy shoreline covered in thick moss. He paused, listening, but heard no sign of the Kaldarians. He’d taken a steep path on purpose, assuming that even if the soldiers noticed the worn grass, they’d avoid a difficult trek in the dark. The path was one formerly used by a herd of goats that called Mt. Yama home, though it’d been several seasons since they’d last been sighted.
The darkened sky finally opened up, pelting the mountain with sheets of sharp rain. Eli was instantly soaked, his dark hair falling flat against his face, his bright blue eyes steely in the dark. Icy drops stung his bare hands. He breathed out sharply, blowing water from his lips.
Dirt paths quickly became thick patches of mud that caked Eli’s feet and weighed him down. By the time he crested the next ridge, he was breathless. A close-knit ring of spindly trees signaled to him that he was near the Mystic’s enclave.
Eli staggered into the camp and ran about, extinguishing every spark light, before stumbling into his master’s hut. Wrenching himself out of his jacket and stumbling out of his shoes, Eli fumbled through the curtain to where Moriyo slept. “Master Moriyo! The Kaldarians are on the mountain.”
The old Mystic coughed and grumbled as he shook himself from sleep. A few thin, gray hairs had come loose from his ponytail. He fumbled for a moment and ignited a spark light in his palm. He blinked, staring at his soaking wet pupil. Eli’s feet were caked in mud, his hair dark and flat, water running through the stubble on his cheeks. “Why’s it so bloody dark around here?”
“We’re under attack, Master! The Kaldarians are searching for us.” Water puddled on Master Moriyo’s ornate rug.
Master Moriyo pulled a long gray robe around his shoulders and stood on shaky feet. “They won’t find us tonight.” He gestured out at the storm. “The paths will be naught but ice when the sun rises. Nia protects us.”
