NightWind

by Sara Kincaid

  A gentle knock at the door brought Rina back and Halay hurried to the door to a clean and uniformed Eldon. His beard was neatly trimmed and his hair curled boyishly as the stray traces of water evaporated. “Good morning. I hear that some of us had quite an adventure last night.” He spoke with a smile, but his manner was tense.

  “I heard the same.”

  Eldon nodded and stepped into the room. “Well, perhaps we will be able to use this knowledge to our advantage.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Rina stood and gathered her belongings in her pack before walking out the door, her precious wings wrapped and held tightly under her arm. “Let’s go finish this so we can be off.”

  Rina’s companions followed in her wake, each dressed and ready to continue their journey. They wound their way down the stairs and back to the main hall where they located the door to the kitchens. As they entered the large room, a wave of heat greeted them. The fires glowed hot in the hearths and there was a raucous clanging of pots and pans as one of the brothers prepared the morning meal. A worn and weary Sister Rowan sat at the table. Her eyes were red and her shoulders slumped, though she tried to adopt an air of control when she saw the Burgan travelers enter the room. “Good morning. I trust some of you had a good night’s rest?”

  “Indeed,” Eldon replied. “Thank you so much for your hospitality. We are in your debt.”

  “It is nothing among Mantineans.” Sister Rowan smiled, warming to the genial warrior.

  Eggs and thick, hearty bread were brought to the table on heavy, clay plates. A few other sisters and brothers joined them at the table until their party totaled eight. “Forgive me for asking, but, Sister Rowan, this is such a large place. Are there only the few of you who reside here?”

  Sister Rowan took a drink from her glass. “Clearly this place was built for many more than you see seated here. While our numbers no longer reach the hundreds who used to call this place home in more prosperous times, many of us have been dispatched.”

  Halay glanced up from her plate. She’d vowed to stay silent and let her sister handle their interactions with the Brotherhood, but her curiosity was too strong. “Where have they gone?”

  Sister Rowan hesitated for a moment. “As Halay and Jarem discovered last night, we have a terrible plague upon us.” At this admission, the other travelers exchanged shocked glances. “Our poor fellow citizens are falling into an inexplicable deep sleep from which they do not awaken. Our friends in Rosson, Antel and Novo have begged our assistance, so we have sent some of our best and most knowledgeable historians and our few healers to try and help them.”

  Halay ignored her sister’s look of warning. “Have any ever awoken?”

  Sister Rowan shook her head sadly. “Unfortunately not.”

  “Does the illness have a connection to the spark?”

  Sister Rowan gazed off into the distance and at first, Jarem feared that he had overstepped once again. “It’s possible. But how can we say for sure?”

  Rina laid down her fork, considering. “Is Kaldar facing the same problems that the other city-states are having?”

  “Who can say?” Sister Rowan shrugged her shoulders, her frown only serving to enhance her deep wrinkles. “Kaldar is not aware of the Brotherhood and for good reason. Opher is not to be trusted. He’s too impulsive. Too ambitious. I have long feared his ascent to the regency.”

  “Sister, if I may ask, why are you sharing all of this with us now? You didn’t seem so inclined yesterday.”

  Sister Rowan nodded her head, acknowledging the truth of Rina’s question. “You’re right. I wasn’t. But we lost another patient last night, as your companions know, and I also had a very late message from Regent Oda of Novo. Their Mystic has been sent to Kaldar which means that Opher has at least one ally for whatever it is he is planning.”

  An unsettled silence fell over the table. “What can he possibly want with all of these Mystics? Doesn’t that break some code set by the council? Conspiring against the country?” Eldon shoved his chair back from the table and walked stiffly over to a nearby fire.

  Sister Rowan followed Eldon with her eyes, her demeanor calm. “I’m not privy to the inner-workings of the council. But the Brotherhood finds this to be very concerning. Given the nature of your mission, we are inclined to help in whatever way we can for the good of the people and what remains of the spark.” Her robes rustled as she shifted her attention back to the table, her eyes catching Rina’s hard stare. “Which means, Aviator, we are prepared to fix your wings.” Rina’s face cheered and the other Aviators grew hopeful. “Unfortunately we don’t have enough wings here to outfit all of you. But there is one ancient pair, a prototype we think. And the spark flowing inside is strong. I’ve also had my people prepare provisions for you and we will loan you horses from our stables so that your travels will be easier.”

  Rina stood and approached the sister, grasping her hands. “Thank you. We are in your debt, sister.”

  Rowan squeezed Rina’s hands for emphasis. “You must promise to do one thing for me on your journey.”

  “If we can be of service, we would be glad to aid you.”

  “Please keep your eyes and ears open. This situation with the strange sleeping sickness that has taken our people is growing and I fear that it will only get worse. Once you find out what Regent Opher is planning, please let us know.”

  “You have my word, sister.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Regent Opher

  The shades were kept drawn in the Regent’s quarters and the thick, velvet curtains blocked out the afternoon light. Regent Opher’s broad shoulders were pulled back and he stood rigidly facing the blood-red material. He fingered a silver tassel as he spoke. “What do you mean they still refuse to help? I’ll have them thrown in the dungeons! Let them stir awhile in the dark and we’ll see how amenable they are after that.”

  Behind him, Thea sighed and the Regent quelled a grumble that rose in his chest. Of all the Mystics left to him, it was Thea who had survived. A new Mystic had not been found among the Kaldarians since she began her training decades ago. Slowly, the old ones died off and she remained. He blamed her and Nia for their loss of power. “Sir, we kidnapped them and in the process killed the partner of one of the Mystics. I’m afraid the opportunity for persuasion is lost.”

  He turned to look at her, the heavy robes twisting like a skirt as he spun. “It isn’t just for me or even Kaldar that we do this. I explained this to the Council and they didn’t hear me. It is for all of Mantinea.”

  Thea’s eyes bulged as his voice rose and she stepped back, putting more distance between herself and the raving man. “The situation is dire, I know.” She held her hands up in supplication, hands that bore scars from calling the spark forth from the realm where Nia lived since her childhood. Her voice quavered. “Please, let me try again.”

  Regent Opher growled and swept the contents of a nearby table to the floor with a flourish. Glass shattered and inkwells spilled, spreading their contents like blood, on the wide slabs of stone. “Do you not care for our people? For what we’re losing?” He clenched his hands into fists and made as if to approach her.

  “Of course I do! If you’ll just let me try again. I-I’m sure I can convince them.”

  Opher proceeded to pace, dipping the sole of his shoes in the ink absently as he went. Before long, a series of steps were stamped on the floor, but it seemed he never noticed or simply didn’t care. “You’re out of time, Thea. What will Livia and Jade do? You’re failing them. If you won’t do this for me, then do it for them.” He reached for her, grasping her wrist and drawing her to him roughly, his voice a confusing mixture of pain and anger and his face knotted with both.

  Thea swallowed audibly, and tried to dislodge her wrist from the Regent’s grip. Opher shook his head, his red and black hair shaking like a bird’s bright plumage. Suddenly, he let go, se
eming to remember himself for a moment. “The Mystics will be at the celebration tomorrow evening.” She bowed regally before sweeping from the room, her steps a clatter of sharp heels on the stone.

  “May the spark return,” the Regent called after her, his voice soft and haunted.

  Alone in his room, the Regent clenched and unclenched his hand and he stared as if mesmerized by the action. Then he gasped and his arm went rigid at his side. He splashed through the spilled ink, covering his shoes with the black liquid again and left footsteps on the ground, heedless of where he had trod.

  A stream of light pooled in the corner of the room where two heavy red curtains met and Opher brushed them aside, exposing a large bay outcropping. Each walled side of the hexagon was filled with floor to ceiling windows, shaped like diamonds and shining.

  Opher breathed softly, brushing the back of his hand across his eyes as unbidden tears fell. He approached the bed quietly, scanning the occupants for movement. They both lay in repose just as he had left them the previous evening and every day since they had fallen into their terrible slumber.

  Buried lightly under a sheet was the still form of a woman with features cut like glass. A perfectly upturned nose. A face slack with slumber. Her head rested gently on the pillow, curled slightly toward a young girl. The two shared shiny dark hair, and though they hadn’t moved in weeks, their hair continued to grow. Opher crouched at the foot of the bed and clasped the small foot that lay beneath the covers and bowed his head. “Livia. Jade.” Tears dribbled in salty trails down his smooth face. “May the spark return.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Rina

  The hooves of the great black stallions from the Brotherhood’s stables played an upbeat rhythm against the solid ground. Rina and the rest of the Aviators had quickly adjusted to the docile creatures, even going so far as enjoying the ride, a first for the flying soldiers.

  Sitting astride the large beasts, the travelers made good time, crossing back to the other side of the mountain range and hurrying through the wind tunnel that, this time, pushed against their backs and had them stumbling down the path away from the secret home of the Brotherhood.

  Turning north and west, keeping the mountain range at their right, the travelers were once again met with the verdant lands of southern Rosson. Narrow tree trunks reached high into the sky and clusters of bamboo dotted the landscape. After crossing the Silver River that trickled down from the foggy peaks beside them, the Burgans found themselves in Delos where the elevation steadily climbed and the weather became cooler.

  Delos was a land of peace, where the Council of Peace met seasonally to discuss the struggles of Mantinea. People from every city-state flocked to live in Delos because of the diverse nature of the residents and the vibrant city life. The living conditions outside the city were rather harsh given the higher elevation, cooler temperatures and the lack of good soil for farmland. As far as Rina knew, Delos didn’t even have its own militia.

  “If the directions from Sister Rowan are correct, we should only be in Delos for a day. Colton’s Peak, where the Regent’s palace is located, should be just across the border.”

  “Will we be able to camp somewhere more comfortable and less exposed? You can see for miles out here. It’s not safe.”

  The corners of Rina’s mouth turned down as she looked to the horizon. “I certainly hope so.”

  “It looks like there’s a settlement of some kind out there.”

  They all squinted, trying to make out the boxy shapes in the distance. An impatient wind whipped across the landscape, twirling dust in its fingers and catching the manes of their horses in its grasp. Rina’s horse stomped impatiently and pawed at the ground. Eldon urged his horse forward beside her. “It must be a trade outpost. Travelers from any nearby city-state or anyone heading to meet with Regent Opher would need a place to rest or gather new supplies.”

  “That makes sense. Though thanks to the Brotherhood, we’re not in need of supplies.” Rina shifted in the saddle. Her wings were attached to her uniform, poised and ready for flight once again. She’d not had the opportunity to test them, but she trusted the brotherhood’s obvious mechanical skills and they’d assured her that she would fly with ease once the time was right. For now, they lay coiled against her shoulder blades, a strip of fabric covering them to keep the metal from glinting in the sun. “Let’s head toward it and check things out. At the very least, I expect there will be a road that leads to Colton’s Peak.”

  The sun drifted across the sky, obscured by gossamer clouds. Halay and Jarem rode close together, whispering as they went.

  Steadily, the outpost grew and came into focus. At the top of the main building, a flag bearing the bear paw of Kaldar flapped in the breeze. Rina kept her eyes trained on the flag, her dismay growing, as the sun sank in the sky, folding into the western horizon.

  Halay noted the tension in her sister’s shoulders. “Rina, what is it?”

  “The Kaldarians have infiltrated this area.”

  “They’ll try to stop us.”

  Rina interrupted her sister. “I know.”

  “What do we do?” Eldon looked to her, still riding faithfully on her left, the ancient pair of wings given to them by Sister Rowan curled against his back. The black feathers had faded to gray long ago, but the metal was polished to a glittering silver. Though not the customary colors of the Burgan Aviators, the silver contrasted nicely with the burnished gold threads on his buttery leather uniform.

  “We can’t fight them. An outpost will be filled with people. And by the time we’re finished, if we survive, they’ll have sent word to the palace.”

  Eldon removed his hand from his sword belt, eyes scanning the soldiers in the distance. Two of them rode the silver horses whose forms shone with the fire of the sunset behind them until they appeared to be walking flames. “They’ll know we took Halay’s horse. I’ve never seen another like it. And the weapons.”

  “Go now. Before they see us!” Halay’s eyes were bright and earnest and the silvery horse beneath her shone a fiery orange, reflecting the last of the fading light. Above them, the velvety darkness was beginning to spread across the sky like spilled ink.

  Jarem echoed her. “Yes! You must. Both of you! You’re the only ones who can get inside the palace.”

  “But...”

  “No buts. It has to be you. We’ll be fine. They haven’t seen us yet. Halay and I will take care of each other. Don’t you worry. We’ll meet you there. Somehow, we’ll get there. You have my word. Now go before it’s too late! One flock!” Jarem saluted her from the saddle before flicking his wrist, urging them to be off.

  Rina knew that they were right, but she couldn’t bear the thought of abandoning part of her crew and her sister. “We must wait until the light is gone,” she said, swallowing her concerns and glancing at Eldon.

  “Alright. Let’s go.” The Aviator slid clumsily from his mount and waited for Rina to slide to the ground. The two saluted their comrades and ran in the opposite direction to await the cover of darkness.

  Once darkness fell, Rina willed her wings to spread. Slowly, they expanded to their full, magnificent width, the runes and metal tips hidden in shadow. With a few pumps of the massive appendages, Rina felt herself lift from ground and she angled her body upwards, shooting into the sky where she’d be just another speck of black in the darkness, Eldon close on her heels.

  Eyes closed, Rina relished the feeling of the wind rushing past her, its fingers in her hair, whispering in her ears. Though she’d been grounded for a short period of time, she’d missed the feeling of weightlessness, of being a star hurtling through the sky. However much she missed her old life, she’d molded into this new one, there was no denying that.

  The moon was just a sliver and stars filled the sky with a river of tiny pricks of white. Rina felt small, like a single beam fending off the darkness. How would she
ever find Eli and the others? Though she’d flown at night many times, she’d always known the lay of the land and the location of her destination. On this journey, she’d not had the luxury of consulting a map.

  She stretched, working the kinks out of her body from the day spent on horseback. That’s when she noticed the rune on the inside of her left wrist had once again begun to glow.

  For a moment, Rina lay motionless in the sky, the winds curling across her body like a lover’s hand. She reached toward her outstretched arm, her fingers tracing over the illuminated design on her wrist. “Now you’ll know exactly where to find me.” Eli’s words echoed in her mind and she remembered the brilliant flash that had blinded them both when he touched a similar pattern on his own wrist to the then-fresh mark on hers. “Always.”

  Any doubts she’d born were carried off by the wind and her mouth quirked into a smile. She dove deeper, riding the tumultuous Night Wind of the northern mountains, her wind, letting the rune guide her through the darkness to her light.

  As daylight returned, Rina and Eldon perched on a protected cliff and peered across a steep valley at the majestic Bear Palace carved out of Colton’s Peak. She’d allowed them a couple of hours rest as they’d waited for the sun to rise, but it wasn’t enough to shake off the exhaustion that had seeped into their bones. Sunlight glistened on the massive windows stained in an intricate pattern with red shards of glass. Down in the valley, they could see the narrow path, dotted with Kaldarian soldiers, which led to the heavily guarded entrance at the base of the mountain. Zhara had been right to send them to the Brotherhood for assistance before carrying on with their journey. They would never have made it into the palace otherwise.

  The walls surrounding the palace itself were carved out of thick limestone, found in the deep quarries of Verdlan, many decades before the War of the Habibi Gulf. Each stone was stacked expertly on the stones beneath it, creating a sheer face too slick to climb given the abundance of moisture on this side of the mountain. Low clouds hung around the impressive spires that ended in the shape of bear paws and the infinity symbol upon which the captured spark resided in Mantinean tools and lamps. “So, how do we get inside?” Eldon’s breath was white when he spoke and little crystals were forming in his beard.