Wing Magic

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  “Stubborn and nonsensical,” Zayana said. Were those tears I heard in her voice?

  I patted my horse’s nose as I removed her bit. “There’s a girl. Hopefully, you can find your way home.”

  I opened the saddlebags and rummaged in them, taking out the sack of food and the waterskin. There was nothing else in them, so I slung the rope holding the waterskin over my shoulder and made my way back to the entrance.

  I didn’t say goodbye to Zayana as I slid into the tunnel again. She would come with me. I knew it. Cautious as she was, worried as she was, she was someone who followed a leader and I was that leader.

  I studied the map as I waited for her. Was this as simple as it appeared? It seemed straightforward enough. Hopefully, I was guessing correctly.

  We just had to make the trek on foot and in soaking clothes and in the dark. No problem, right?

  I opened my palm and watched as my bees spun round and round to make a globe over it. They would light my way. I felt a flicker of uncertainty but quickly suppressed it. If I spent my time worrying about what could go wrong, I’d be just like Zayana.

  “Nice work, you fuzzy creatures,” I whispered to them. “Now, be bright and beautiful!”

  I heard the sound of slipping and quiet cursing. I smiled but I didn’t turn. No need to spook her before she was fully committed.

  Okay, time to go. Fixing the map in my mind, I strode toward the correct entrance to the tunnels. Each was shaped – horrifically – like the mouth of a snake, its incisors pointed downward. The yawning gapes of their mouths were pitch black – even the light of my bees didn’t penetrate the dark – which was worrisome. It was just like the Hissan to make you feel like you were being swallowed up into the belly of a snake when you were only trying to travel somewhere. But I couldn’t complain too much. They’d brought me here. And this was a chance that had potential.

  I stumbled right before I reached the door and a heavy memory of those warriors weighed on me again.

  “I always hate this part,” one of the warriors said with a shudder. He was looking at the door on the right. “It feels as though it robs me of the years.”

  “An illusion, brother. It will speed you on your path and honor the Great Snake. Just step through quickly before you talk yourself out if it.”

  Zayana caught my elbow in a muddy hand and I flickered back to real life.

  “Don’t change your mind on me now,” she said wryly. “I’m already coated in mud.”

  “Of course not,” I agreed, sharing a grim smile with her. “Are you ready?”

  “You’re a terrible influence on me.”

  I took that as a yes and stepped into the mouth of the carved adder.

  The very air grabbed a hold of me once my foot crossed the threshold, seeming to fold me into it – almost as if I really was being swallowed. I held my breath as Zayana gasped beside me.

  “I’m already regretting this, bee girl!”

  The ground under us shuddered and folded again and then my bees went dark.

  Chapter Five

  “Bees!” I whispered. “Come back to me!”

  I could still feel their buzz in my chest, but my vision was completely dark. Zayana clung to my elbow and I reached up and grabbed her hand with my free hand. If she was speaking to me, I couldn’t hear it. If she was breathing, I couldn’t hear it.

  The ground rumbled again and that feeling of folding seemed to pull me along, but it was as if a candle had gone out in the blackest of nights, as if I was adrift in the depths of a sky without stars. A prayer broke from my heart.

  Flight of wind protect us, mercy of the skies fly over us, give us peace and protection, let us soar from this terror on the wings of eagles.

  I found myself repeating it aloud. There was something about prayer that made me feel braver. As if just acknowledging that there was something in control beyond me was a step toward believing it could keep me safe.

  “Skies send mercy. Wrap us in your depths cloud upon cloud, hold us fast with the might of your winds.”

  Something shifted in the folding.

  I grew bolder in my prayer.

  “In the ever-changing nature of life, in the storms and stillness, shine your light on us.”

  The folding became faster and with it, the buzz in my chest increased until I could barely hear my own words as I said, “Make us fast as we ride your zephyrs, make us pure as we bathe in your rays.”

  The rumbling was constant as if my words had sped everything up. Was it possible that I was somehow invoking this passage like we invoked our manifestations?

  I spoke again.

  “Bind us together like your flocks of birds and your clouds of bees.”

  I felt Zayana’s hand pressed against mine and tried to will confidence into her. She was going to be so mad when we came out again.

  It felt like a gathering now, like when dough is kneaded – folded first and then forced back on itself. We were being kneaded. Pain flared inside me as memories bubbled up to the surface in little flickers and then dissipated. Each flicker carried an aftertaste of what I’d felt when those memories were made. The sweetness of my mother singing over me ran right into the searing rawness of watching my father killed before my eyes. The warmth of my siblings’ smiles crashed into the sharp fear of being snatched in the air by a snake. And in it all, the buzz of the bees carried on and the folding and kneading continued.

  It was like being reshaped. It was not a comfortable feeling at all.

  I reached with my heart toward the skies. I reached and hoped there really was something deep, deep, deep in the endless blue who guarded us like a father and loved us like a mother and would reach down and contain me so I didn’t run out of myself like an uncooked yolk from an egg.

  And then I spoke. Because if speaking into a manifestation caused order to form from chaos, then maybe I could form some order here, too.

  “Bear us to our destination with speed, but leave us whole,” I said, channeling all my hope into my words. “Do not shatter our shells or leak our yolks out. We are brave and determined. We are relentless. We are filled up to the brim with compassion. Let us thrive! Do not break us. Bear us out of this darkness.”

  The rumbling slowed. And the folding grew fainter and then – as if a door had been opened – the wind rushed into my lungs and light burst across my vision.

  I took a step forward, still clutching Zayana’s hand – but there was something very still about the moment. As if I was steady within myself with no need to speak or act. It lasted only the blink of an eye but in that blink, I felt like I had been made new, as if that kneading had pulled together frayed edges and shaped me into something slightly sleeker, slightly more ordered, slightly bolder.

  I swallowed and the moment was over. The buzz of my bees returned and they roared back into a globe in front of me.

  “You’re back!” I whispered to them. “Welcome back.”

  I took another step forward, pulling Zayana with me and with a lurch, I realized I had crossed the threshold through the snake’s mouth and back into the little room.

  We hadn’t gone anywhere at all. And yet, I felt as if days had passed. I wobbled unsteadily and turned to Zayana.

  She had a curious look on her face. She opened her mouth and then shut it again, swallowing visibly before she whispered, “Someone shut the door.”

  I let go of her hand and scrambled past the plaque to the door. It was completely shut. Stranger yet, there was no muddy trail where we had come in. I spun to look at Zayana and found her staring up at the ceiling.

  Oh.

  There was a small hole in the ceiling, lighting the room. That had not been there before. My eyes fell on the plaque and I gasped. The signs on the map had changed. The larger sign had been near to Karkatua before. But now, the larger sign was inland from Astar Harbor. That must be where we were now.

  I swallowed as the realization settled over me. We had moved. We’d moved in minutes a distance that should ha
ve taken days. But now I realized what the snake warriors had meant when they said that they “hated that part” because as I looked up to the center snake with its wide yawning mouth, I knew I’d have to go into the belly of the snake again. Sweat formed on my brow and I swallowed down a stab of fear.

  “Did we ... move?” Zayana asked. Her hands were trembling. “It took me apart and stitched me back together and I don’t think I like it at all.”

  I had to clear my throat before I could speak. “I think we’re halfway to Glorious Ingvar. It was like a magic portal in a Forbidding Tale. Look.”

  I pointed to the map on the plaque and Zayana looked at it and then at me. “I can’t read the words.”

  “Neither can I. I’m just judging by the shape of the continent. Did you speak while we were ... traveling?”

  She shook her head. “I won’t be speaking this time, either.”

  My eyebrows rose in surprise, but her features took on a firm look. Who would have thought that Zayana could be so relentless? It must be tough to be so far from everything she knew.

  I took a deep breath. “I think it’s better if we hold hands.”

  She let me take her hand and then we stepped up to the center door. The one that the map showed leading to the spot just outside Glorious Ingvar. We hesitated.

  “We could travel the rest of the way on foot,” I offered. “We’ve already saved ourselves days of travel.”

  She shook her head determinedly but although I waited for her to say something, she remained steadfastly silent.

  “Relentless,” I said and I stepped over the threshold, flinching as the air folded me in and everything went dark again.

  This time, when the floor began to rumble and the folding started, I didn’t hesitate. I lifted my heart to the skies and spoke order into the chaos.

  “Bear us quickly to our destination but bear us whole and full. Do not let us break or crumble, fade or snap under your folding. We want to be strong and whole. We want to be brave and kind.”

  I couldn’t think of what else to say, but I didn’t need to say anything more. The folding began – faster this time. I felt the pull and squeeze of it. Memories bubbled up with their emotions and were folded back in, but I had a strange sensation that I was having trouble holding onto even as the thoughts formed. Were all of those memories mine? Or was it reaching in and pulling up memories I’d been given by the Hissan and folding those in, too? My mind was too busy to analyze it, but my instincts made me shiver at the thought.

  It was a matter of seconds until the heaving and folding stopped. But it felt like hours. Emotions I didn’t want and memories I had tried to hold at bay warred in me, leaving me breathless and wrung out like a rag. When – finally – they were done, I was left gasping, my chest heaving, tears leaking down my face. The first thing I heard was a muffled sob as we stepped together across the threshold. Zayana clung to my hand, and the moment we were clear, she wrenched her hand away, hiding her face as she sobbed.

  Feeling dazed, I wrapped her into a hug and tried to shake my head clear.

  Well. You wouldn’t use those every day, would you? Not even if they saved you months of travel.

  “Never again,” Zayana gasped through her tears.

  I didn’t echo her. Who knew what might come next? But when I summoned my bees, I was astonished to realize that they were brighter than before. I blew on them, and they seemed to warm with my breath.

  “Do you feel – energetic?” I asked Zayana warily.

  She frowned. “I shouldn’t feel that way. But I do.” She opened her palms and Flame appeared. “He’s brighter.”

  He was larger, too.

  I looked over my shoulder at the three yawning mouths with suspicion. What were those things? Perhaps, I shouldn’t have leapt into unknown magic. Anything could have happened – maybe even something far worse than this.

  Swallowing, I made my way across the floor. The room was filled with rotting leaves. It was easy to see why. The hole in the top of the structure that lit this room was as wide as my fist and debris fell into the room easily, forming a rotting pile around the plaque. No one had used these undertrails in a very long time.

  I frowned. Why would that be? They seemed like something that Ixtap would want to leverage.

  I made my way through the drifting leaves to the door and placed my hands on the symbols that had opened the door on the other side.

  Nothing happened.

  My heart sped up as fear tasted acid in my mouth. I looked back at the yawning mouths.

  I did not want to go back in there.

  “Don’t tell me that we’re stuck,” Zayana said. She sounded frantic.

  I tried to look calm, despite my racing heart and the skittering of my bees in response. Okay, calmly now, Aella. Look for another option.

  I looked up at the ceiling. A fist-sized hole. Could we dig it wider? It was ringed in carefully dressed stone. That would be a no. Without tools, we couldn’t possibly move it. I swallowed.

  A vision filled my eyes – sent from one of my bees.

  Ixtap – dressed in finery – at a feast on the shore of the ocean. He raised his goblet in a toast to cheers all around him. They were celebrating something. Behind him, in the ocean, the silhouette of many ships bobbed on the waves. I fought against the vision, my body instinctually bucking against the invasion into my mind. More than ever, I hated that the snake people had implanted a part of themselves in me. I hated that they could give me memories and thoughts. We were stuck here and that was all my fault, but it didn’t keep me from feeling resentful of them. I pushed the vision aside.

  Drawing in a long breath, I focused. We needed a plan.

  Okay, so maybe there were different symbols for different doors. I tried a few at random. Nothing.

  “We really are stuck.” Zayana said hopelessly. She walked to the side of the room, put her back to the circular wall of the round room, placed her head in her hands, and began to silently sob.

  I couldn’t blame her. I felt like crying, too. After all that, to think we might have to do it over again having accomplished nothing ... I couldn’t bear the thought.

  Chapter Six

  The energy I’d felt before seemed to be draining away as the minutes ticked by. I tried more door combinations. I tried feeling the sides of the room looking for a way out. Above us, the light in the fist-sized hole faded until it was gone.

  “This is what we get for defying the Empire,” Zayana said hopelessly. Her face was smeared with tears and dust.

  I spun to face her. “What is what we get? What?”

  “Punishment. Disaster. What did you expect by defying them?”

  I crossed my arms and leaned down so she could see me in the last shreds of fading light. Without meaning to, I manifested bees. Two of them. They spun glowing spirals around us as I spoke.

  “I’ve been trying and trying to tell you, Zayana. When are you going to listen? Your loyalty to the Empire is misplaced. They’ve taken everything from you.”

  “Not my sister.” Her face was tear streaked in the light of my bees. “She’s alive, living with patrons.”

  “So that they can hold her over your head and use you? Or, so they can use her later?”

  “She’s already going to pay a price because of what you and Wing Ivo did!”

  “Because we saved a city from enemies? Think about that. Your sister is going to pay a price because you helped two people save an Imperial city from invasion. Because we saved little children from being murdered in their homes? Does that sound right to you?”

  “It doesn’t matter if it’s right. It matters that it is. I can’t change it, so I have to live under it.”

  I huffed and stood up again. If I couldn’t get this idea through her head, I couldn’t work with her. She’d seemed so close to understanding when we left the snake temple but she kept getting tangled up again in her loyalty to the Empire.

  “I’m afraid, too, okay?” I said, trying to put my whole
heart into this explanation. “Juste Montpetit wants my family dead – specifically. He wants to torture me – specifically. It’s not a vague, general, maybe threat. It’s a specific one. But why should I be afraid of him? Why should I let him have that kind of power over me? You know what? I’m angry. I’m angry all the time because I feel so powerless and even that isn’t enough. So, instead of being just angry and just scared, I’m doing something about it. I’m joining this revolution of Wing Ivo’s and I’m going to act because one way or another none of us gets out of this life alive. We all die eventually. Why spend all my time afraid of it and trying to cling to the scraps they’ll give me? I won’t do that. I’d rather fight for freedom – even if I lose – than die with their boot on my neck.”

  “You’re a fool.” Her words were faint.

  “Then come be a fool with me.” I pled. “You need to finally make a decision. I’m not bringing you with me if you aren’t on our side. You can go back to pretending that everything is fine with the Empire and that you can have a life under their rule. Or you can come with me and if you come with me, then I don’t want to see any more waffling. I want to see some courage.”

  She frowned and I turned my back on her, striding to stand in front of the three yawning mouths as she made up her mind.

  It seemed to take forever. I had to bite my lip to keep from tapping a foot or turning around to see if she’d gone to sleep. Above me, in the tiny window to the sky, the stars shone bright and the coolness of night descended into the little underground room. It felt like hours that I’d stood there waiting. But better this than a knife in my back the first time we saw a Claw patrol. Better to wait than to have her signaling Osprey the next time he flew over us.

  I reached into the leather cuff and touched Os’s feather. It was stone cold. I stroked it gently. What did cold mean? It was always warm. Should I be worried about Osprey?

  Calm down, Aella. The waiting is getting to you.

  I almost sighed with relief when scarlet light flared behind me, and Zayana’s whisper-soft footsteps brought her to join me. She stood a full head shorter than me. Delicate and beautiful, just like her bird, but her eyes had a bold look in them when she turned to face me.