Warriors of Wing and Flame

by Sara B. Larson

  “Maybe if you’d stop scaring everyone away, we could ask one of them where she is,” I pointed out quietly after another Paladin, a girl with a basket full of laundry, had turned on her heel and rushed back the way she’d come the second she spotted us.

  “Why do you assume it’s me? Have you seen the way you look?”

  I glanced down at my shirt, at the blood splatters there. Was it still on my face too? I’d tried to wipe it off with the pond water, but maybe I’d failed. I flushed but doggedly refused to back down. “They aren’t looking at me when they run away—so you must be even scarier than I am.”

  “You think I’m trying to scare them?” Loukas growled. “Even if I walked around with a smile on my face, carrying a basket of cookies, they’d still turn tail the minute they saw me.”

  I snorted indelicately, trying to imagine Loukas carrying a basket full of cookies with a big, goofy grin on his normally saturnine face. “You might be surprised. I’ve never had a cookie, but I hear they’re amazing.”

  He shot me a scowl. “They are afraid of me, not the expression on my face. But I’ll be sure to give it a try some other time, when every minute we waste isn’t the difference between life or death.”

  “You always did have a flair for the melodramatic, Loukas,” a woman said from behind us. “But I’m afraid it might be warranted in this case. How are the two of you back—and where is everyone else?”

  We both spun around. My heart skipped up into my throat, where it thrummed like a hummingbird’s wings—something I’d only seen once when I was lucid on a beautiful spring day, its wings beating so quickly they were nearly invisible.

  The woman wore breeches, boots to her knees, and a blouse, her fiery red hair liberally laced with white pulled back in a tight bun, her blue-fire eyes sharp and unwavering. One side of her neck had a spiderweb of silvery lines on it that delved below her blouse.

  She stared right back at me. “You aren’t Zuhra.”

  I swallowed. I knew I should say something—anything—but I could only stand there with my mouth intractably clamped shut.

  “This is your other granddaughter, Inara. Inara, this is your grandmother, Ederra.”

  I didn’t need Loukas’s introduction. I’d known there was no one else it could have been. But, after hearing the little bit Zuhra had told me about her, I hadn’t expected to see disappointment cross her face when she realized the granddaughter who had come to her castle was the other one.

  “I thought you had immense Paladin power,” Ederra said, her gaze raking over me with a hint of distaste, reminding me once again of the gore I most likely still had on my neck and clothes, and then moving on to Loukas.

  “She did.”

  “Did?” Ederra repeated coldly.

  “Before Barloc ripped it out of her. She’s the one who made him a jakla.”

  I’d only known her for less than two minutes, but I already guessed that the shock that crossed her face was not something many people saw. “Then how are you … here?”

  I knew she didn’t mean in the castle, though that was certainly another question she would no doubt want answered soon. “I … I was healed,” I finally managed to squeak out.

  “No one can heal that.”

  “Raidyn and Zuhra did. Together.”

  Ederra’s eyebrows shot up. “Raidyn and Zuhra? She does have power?”

  “She’s an enhancer,” Loukas confirmed.

  “An enhancer,” Ederra repeated with a tone bordering on astonishment. “Then Alkimos was right after all.”

  “But none of this matters anymore. Well, except for the fact that the healing doesn’t last forever. She keeps having to be re-healed.” Before Ederra could ask him to explain himself, he barreled on. “We have bigger problems right now.” He quickly told her what Barloc had done—how he’d stolen the power from two more Paladin, how we’d tracked him down and I’d almost succeeded in stealing my power back (“Well, that explains all of this,” she’d said with a gesture at me, making my cheeks burn with embarrassment), before he’d broken free of Loukas’s power, and then ripped the portal open to Visimperum.

  With each revelation, Ederra paled, until she was nearly as white as the hair on her head. “I knew such a thing was possible in theory,” she admitted softly, almost to herself, “but I’ve never heard of anyone actually succeeding in doing it by themselves.” She reached up and pressed three fingertips to one of her temples. “I need to sit down.” She turned on her heel and walked away.

  I wasn’t sure she wished to be followed, but Loukas gave me no choice when he hurried after her; leaving me to either follow or stand there in that hallway until someone remembered to come back and find me.

  As she walked, she peppered him with questions about Barloc, what we knew about him, what he’d done so far, and what condition he’d been in when we’d left him. As Loukas had been unconscious for that part, he glanced over his shoulder at me, trailing slightly behind them.

  “You’ll have to ask Inara,” he said.

  Ederra also glanced back. “Well?”

  “He was lying unconscious on the edge of a cliff. I didn’t get a good look at him—Maddok and I flew right past him to try to catch Loukas before he…”

  “Met an untimely end on the rocks at the bottom of that cliff,” Loukas supplied.

  “Now is not the time for your caustic sense of humor.” Ederra cut a glare at him.

  “I assure you I am being entirely earnest.”

  She looked back at me again, and I nodded.

  “Let me get this straight—you rode his gryphon off the side of a cliff and saved him before he hit the bottom?”

  I nodded again.

  Something akin to admiration crossed her face, but only momentarily. Still, it warmed me as nothing had since Loukas and I had snuck away from the rest of my family on our ill-fated attempt to save my life.

  “So we must assume he’s out there somewhere, temporarily weakened but alive. And once he regains his strength, he can track down other members of the sect, possibly even distant family members, and rip open a gateway to Vamala anywhere he wishes.” Ederra stopped before a door and pushed it open. She and Loukas walked in first, me trailing behind. Inside was a massive table, with flickering blue light—much like the Paladin fire in their eyes—burning in lanterns hung at intervals along the walls, casting the whole room in an otherworldly shade of cerulean.

  “We must convene an emergency meeting of the council right away.”

  “With all due respect, there’s no time to wait for them to all come here,” Loukas said as Ederra sat heavily on one of the chairs.

  “I agree. We won’t wait for those not in attendance. We will have to make a decision with those who are and act immediately. He is a threat to our world too—especially if he tries to steal power from any other Paladin he comes across, or convinces other members of the Infinitium sect to do it as well. If we can track him down before he regains full strength, perhaps we can stop him before he hurts anyone else.” She glanced up at Loukas. “Will you please go find Yemaya and tell her to bring every council member in residence here immediately?”

  Loukas glanced at me, the first hint of concern I’d seen crossing his face.

  “She’ll be fine with me, Loukas. I won’t bite her. You may go.”

  I gulped, somehow less encouraged by this statement than if she’d said nothing at all. But he did as she commanded and left, the door shutting behind him with a resounding thunk.

  I stood halfway between the door and the table, my hands hanging awkwardly at my sides, not able to bring myself to meet her piercing gaze.

  “You’re different than your sister,” she said after several moments of silence.

  Zuhra. The distance between us was as painful as it was insurmountable. At least I knew she was safe; Barloc was here in Visimperum. He couldn’t hurt her or anyone else that I loved. At least … not until he went back, if the Paladin here couldn’t find him before he did.

&nb
sp; “She and Raidyn really healed you,” she continued, “which is truly remarkable.” There was a pause. “But it doesn’t last?”

  “No.” I barely managed to make the word audible.

  Something in her gaze, a hard edge, softened infinitesimally. “Are you frightened of me?”

  Yes.

  “No,” I repeated, only a tiny bit louder than the first time.

  “Zuhra never showed any fear toward me. She was angry with me—and hurt. But never afraid. It was a mistake for me to refuse to get to know her. Alkimos was right about that too. He was probably thrilled to be there with both of you girls.” Her mouth curved up slightly, as though she were trying to smile, but had forgotten how to do it quite right. “I will try to do better with you.”

  I couldn’t return her smile. Alkimos … that was her husband’s name. My grandfather. She didn’t know he was gone. And Loukas had left. Which meant I had to tell her.

  “It will take a bit of time before they all show up—most of them are sleeping, I’m sure. I’m the only one who hasn’t been able to sleep for more than an hour or two since … everything that happened. We could go get you a change of clothes and something to wash off your face, so that—”

  “He’s gone,” I burst out before I lost my nerve.

  She paused, her eyebrows lifting. “Excuse me?”

  I winced, my heart thundering in my chest. “Alkimos … your husband … he … when Barloc came back through, he tried to stop him…” I couldn’t go on, but I didn’t have to. It was one of the worst things I’d ever seen—the way she froze as if time had stopped in that instant, and then her face crumpled as an inhuman noise escaped her throat, a cry of unadulterated anguish. Then her body folded in on itself.

  And I just stood there, helpless, useless, a stranger with blood in my veins that made us family, but nothing more to give me the right to walk to her side and offer any comfort that might be unwanted and unwarranted—especially when, technically, I was the reason her husband had died. It was my power Barloc had stolen, my power he’d used to injure her and kill my grandfather.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

  She didn’t even seem to hear me. Ederra’s sobs ripped through her as if she’d bottled up a lifetime of grief and losing her husband was what finally broke her, letting all of her pain escape in this awful, uncontrolled flood of tears that made her entire body quake.

  Whether she wanted me to or not, whether I should or not, I couldn’t handle standing there watching her cry. With a deep breath to fortify my flagging courage, I slowly shuffled toward her, prepared for her to yell at me to stop—or go away—at any moment.

  She never looked up.

  I paused at her side, unaccountably terrified to put my hand out and rest it on her shoulder.

  Are you frightened of me?

  Yes.

  But I made myself do it anyway.

  She jerked at the contact, her sobs pausing for a moment. But then she leaned into my touch, just slightly, her entire body trembling with the weight of grief known and unknown.

  She only cried for a minute or two longer, and then with a suddenness that took me completely off guard, she cut off the sobs as abruptly as they’d started. Her body still trembled beneath my hand, but she sat up taller, until I had to either curl my fingers over her shoulder to remain holding on or let them slide away.

  I let them slide away.

  She wiped at one cheek, then the other, and glanced over at me, her eyes burning and bloodshot. “Now we both need to go get cleaned up before this meeting.”

  With that, Ederra pushed her chair back, stood, and strode to the door, obviously expecting me to follow.

  I did exactly that, watching her brush past Loukas, who had to sidestep to avoid getting plowed over by her. He looked to me with lifted eyebrows and mouthed, “Alkimos?”

  I nodded, rushing after my grandmother.

  “Everyone is coming,” he called after us.

  “Tell them we’ll be back in five minutes or less,” Ederra said, redoubling her speed, until she was nearly jogging.

  I followed in her wake, wondering how I’d traded one indomitable woman in my mother for another in my grandmother. Apparently my father had really liked strong-willed women in his life. Perhaps, I realized, I needed to be more like them. Even Zuhra, much as she was loath to admit it, was more similar to both of them than me. She was strong and determined and courageous, and I … I was weak and frightened with only rare bursts of anything even remotely akin to bravery. The only claim to power I’d ever had was gone.

  But Zuhra had been strong before she’d ever known she possessed any power beyond that of her own will.

  Could I be like her? Could I find strength in new ways?

  If I had any hope of getting back to her, I had a feeling I would have to.

  If I could stay alive that long.

  Even as we rushed down the hallway, a shudder passed through me, a chill I recognized all too well.

  The hole inside me was cracking apart once more.

  THIRTY-ONE

  ZUHRA

  The darkness was thicker, heavier. Still velvet and soft and soothing, but also dense and clinging. I was cocooned in it, unable to move even if I’d wanted to.

  Why would I want to leave it?

  There is only pain for you up there, it told me. Pain and loss and guilt. Terrible guilt, for you did a terrible thing.

  The tug was softer now, barely even noticeable unless I focused.

  Blue-fire eyes.

  Hands that had held mine.

  Lips that had spoken stories that softened panic into sleep.

  But the darkness pressed me down; it suffocated the fire that scorched if I tried to fight my way back above it.

  So I succumbed, sinking deeper and deeper into its embrace.

  And the blue-fire eyes grew dimmer and dimmer, until they were barely even a flicker of memory.

  The musical voice that had once spoken the words that comforted me so often faded until it was a mere echo, distant and growing weaker every minute.

  But the darkness was there to fill the void, to soothe away any memory of pain.

  THIRTY-TWO

  INARA

  When Ederra said “five minutes or less,” she’d meant it.

  She burst into a room not far from the one with the large table, where she rushed to a nightstand, yanked open a drawer, and tossed me a clean white shirt. “Put that on and wipe your face off.” She pointed to a cloth on top of the dresser, next to a wide, low bowl. She bent over it and splashed some water on her face.

  I held the buttery-soft shirt, staring down at the brilliant white fibers with awe. I’d never seen a piece of clothing so beautiful. I hadn’t realized before how worn and aged everything we used in the citadel was until I saw the difference, how unbelievably white fabric could be—as white as clouds, as white as fresh snow.

  “Inara! Hurry!”

  Startled by her vehemence, I quickly stripped off my filthy, blood-stained top, humiliated by the difference in the two pieces of clothing when I held one in each hand. I dropped the used one on the floor so I could put the clean one on. It smelled of sunshine and lemons and slid over my body like water gliding over my skin.

  “We might as well just burn this … um…”

  I pulled my head through the neck to see her gingerly pick up the soiled shirt with only her pointer finger and thumb and toss it into her dormant hearth. I flushed but hid my embarrassment by busying myself tucking the clean shirt into my equally dirty and used trousers.

  “Your face,” Ederra reminded me, as she pinned back the few errant hairs that had managed to escape the bun in her emotional outburst. There was hardly a trace of it left visible; she had transformed herself back as though she’d never cried once in her life, let alone the torrential flood of grief I’d been witness to.

  I hurried to the washstand, catching a glimpse of myself in her mirror. Though I’d tried to clean it off, dried blood still c
oated the edges of my lips and was smeared in streaks over my cheeks, chin, and even my neck. I shuddered at the sight, my stomach heaving. I barely managed to swallow the bile rising up my throat at the memory of Barloc’s blood in my mouth, of the effort it had taken to swallow the few gulps I’d managed to drink before it had all gone so wrong.

  And for what? Nothing.

  I shivered again as I hurried to dip the cloth in the water and wiped furiously at my skin, wishing I could scrub away my memories along with the dried blood.

  How long would it take this time before the chasm cracked wide open, forcing me to need to be healed or else truly die?

  “It’s gone, dear.”

  It was the gentleness in her voice, the use of the word “dear” that startled me into stillness, to realize I was still scouring my skin though the blood was long gone, my skin red and agitated from the vehemence of my scrubbing.

  “Right,” I murmured, crossing the room to toss the stained rag in the fireplace beside my shirt.

  Ederra watched without comment.

  We were both silent on the short walk back to the room with the table where the council would be meeting, but right before we walked in, she paused and turned to me. “You’re not going to try to convince me to open the gateway for you?”

  I shook my head, confused.

  “To get back to your sister?” she added.

  “I want to go back home to her as soon as I can, but I know that you have to do what is best for everyone right now.” I glanced down at my feet, not wanting her to see the weakness in my eyes. I was afraid if I truly started crying, I wouldn’t be able to stop. Certainly not the way she had.

  “Hmm,” was all she said, and with that, she opened the door and strode in to the room, where a handful of other Paladin and Loukas all waited.

  I slunk in behind her, not sure if I was welcome or not, but not knowing where else to go. I stood in the corner, hoping to make myself as inconspicuous as possible, but every eye in the room turned to me immediately—except for Loukas’s.