Warriors of Wing and Flame

by Sara B. Larson

  I looked down first, ripping my gaze from his as though tearing our souls apart. Later. There would be all the time in the world because, whether we deserved it or not, we’d survived and we were alive. But for now, I was needed elsewhere.

  * * *

  Hours passed in a blur of rain, mud, blood, and summoning my power again and again, until my hands shook and my muscles trembled with exhaustion. I couldn’t fully heal the worst of the injuries, knowing it would drain too much of my power. It was much more finite now that the Mother of all Paladin had taken back the endless well I’d wielded for such a short time—but at the most crucial moment I ever could have needed it. So I did just enough to save their lives, to minimize their suffering, and had to fight the urge to keep going to finish what I started, pulling back instead and moving on to the next injury. Six, seven, eight … ten, eleven, twelve Paladin before I glanced around and there were no more to work on. The other healers’ gazes met mine and I saw my own exhaustion echoed in their dull eyes, their Paladin fire barely flickering after the massive drain on all of our power.

  My legs barely held me up, I was covered in mud, my clothes were soaked from the rain that remained a steady drizzle while we worked. Some of those who weren’t injured as badly were moved inside the citadel, but the worst ones remained where they were until we got to them, and then were taken inside after we stabilized them. I was cold, exhausted, and on the verge of collapsing.

  Somehow, we’d done it. We’d saved everyone that we possibly were capable of saving.

  But there were far too many that we’d lost.

  Now that the work had ended, I stood there in the middle of the nearly empty grounds, shaking and wet and overcome. As I’d healed and healed and healed, I hadn’t been able to think about the ones I’d lost—hadn’t allowed myself to think of them. I’d forced myself to stay focused, to do what had to be done.

  But there was nothing left for me to do, and with that nothingness came a tidal wave of grief.

  Zuhra had taken me aside at one point and told me Halvor’s last words—how he’d asked them to tell me he loved me. His loss was sharp and terrible. It knifed through my heart, a blade formed of grief, serrated with guilt—that we hadn’t come back in time to save him, that he had sacrificed his life to save my family. Zuhra had held me as I sobbed, tears of despair and shame and relief—because of him my sister and mother lived.

  I would never be able to thank him for caring about me—for loving me. For being my first kiss, and my first … everything. He had changed our lives, and mine in particular, forever.

  Around me the other Paladin hurried to finish carrying the survivors in, but I stood in middle of the courtyard in the rain, my body and mind completely drained, my defenses weakened so that I could no longer avoid the one death my mind had darted away from, like a skittish deer through all the hours of healing.

  Sami.

  The pain of her loss nearly doubed me over. The only death that could have hurt worse would have been if I’d lost Zuhra. Next to my sister, Sami was the one who had always been there for me—the mother my mother hadn’t been capable of being for either of us. She’d taken down one of the jaklas with her death, but the cost was far too high. If only she would have stayed in the citadel. My eyes burned and I tilted my face up to the sky, letting my tears mingle with the rain slipping down my cheeks.

  “You are truly remarkable, do you know that?”

  I spun at the sound of Louk’s voice. He stood a few feet away in the rain, his dark hair dripping, his brilliant green eyes a stark contrast to the charcoal clouds above and the mud below. When our gazes met, his brow furrowed, his smile slipping.

  “What is it?”

  I shook my head, unable to speak, the tears coming faster and harder.

  Without another word, Louk opened his arms, and I let him envelop me in his strength and warmth, holding me as I sobbed, grief slamming into me like waves, over and over. I would surface just long enough to suck in a breath of air before another one pulled me under again.

  I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before my sorrow spent itself—for now—and the tears slowed and then finally stopped. The rain had petered out sometime while I’d cried, soaking his shirt even more.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice low, and a little hoarse. “I know what he meant to you.”

  I pulled back to peer up into his face. His face was shuttered once more, revealing none of the hurt I sensed coursing through his veins from the sanaulus we now shared after healing him during the battle. He thought all of this was because of Halvor. And it was; it was confusion because I had cared for Halvor and instead of coming back to have the heart-rending conversation with him I’d been preparing for, I’d never seen him again, to tell him anything. Not thank you for being there for me or I’m sorry or please forgive me or any of the other inadequate words I’d tried to come up with to explain myself and my actions with Louk. Halvor was just … gone. And I didn’t know how to handle that—yet. On top of all of that was losing Sami. Her death gutted me in a way I didn’t know how to heal from. There was no magic fix for the pain both of their losses left inside me.

  But … I didn’t want all of that to push Loukas away. I needed him, now more than ever. I reached up and cupped his jaw as I had by the stream. He winced at the touch, a tiny prick of hope sparking but met and overcome by doubt. It amazed me, the way I could read his emotions so clearly. It almost made me feel guilty … except that it gave me hope—that perhaps he did care for me. Naïve and young as I might be, as he’d pointed out more than once.

  “I’m not going to lie to you—you’re right. Halvor’s death … hurts. A lot. I cared for him … deeply,” I began.

  Louk stiffened, his jaw clenching beneath my hand; I pressed on before he could withdraw or shut me out again.

  “And he … he sacrificed himself to save my sister and my mother. If he were here, it would mean they were gone.” My voice broke, but I forced myself to continue. “So yes, I will always have a special place in my heart for Halvor, for being there for me and for what we shared, for helping me find hope when I wasn’t sure I could … and for saving my family. But also because without him coming into our lives, Zuhra never would have met Raidyn, we wouldn’t have ever seen our father again, and … I never would have met you. I … I never would have learned what I was capable of feeling … of what I do with you.” My words were woefully insufficient, but it was all I dared say—as much as I could bring myself to admit.

  Louk’s mask slipped, his face softening, filling his eyes with a warmth I’d never seen before. “Inara, I—”

  I barreled right over him. “And I was also crying because of Sami.” Even saying her name made my eyes sting again. My arm began to shake and I had to let my hand drop. “She was like a mother to me, when my own mother was incapable of showing me love. She didn’t need to die. I don’t understand why she did that—why she thought she could stop him.” My throat tightened and I finally stopped.

  He cupped my face this time, with both hands, gently stroking my damp hair back. He opened his mouth, but when no words came out, he merely bent down and pressed his lips to mine. His kiss was soft, gentle even, speaking what he couldn’t say. One of his hands wove through my hair, while his other arm dropped to encircle me, carefully pulling me into his body. I sank into his embrace, heedless of where we were, of who might be watching, losing myself in the warmth and strength of his arms.

  Our first kiss had been desperation and heat and need, a crashing of wills and hearts; this kiss was softer, his lips moving tenderly on mine, a meeting of souls, a celebration of survival, a surrendering that was like falling and being caught all at once. I felt his walls crumbling as our mouths slowly moved together, the rush of pure emotion that filled his heart and body flowing into mine through his hands, his kiss—the connection that had begun that day I climbed onto a gryphon for the first time in front of him and culminating there in the courtyard, where everything had begu
n all those weeks ago when the hedge had let a young man through the gate.

  Though I was a mess inside, grief and relief, sorrow and joy, guilt and wonder, all twisted up in each other—a tangle of memories and wishes—in that moment, in Louk’s arms, I could relinquish it all, and just be. Even if it was only for that moment, for the length of a breathtaking, soul-healing, heart-stopping kiss.

  For now, that was enough.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  ZUHRA

  I stood in the shadows of the great entryway, watching the final few healers outside finishing up, including my sister and father. I was too tired to move, even though the numb oblivion of work was wearing away in that stillness, leaving too much space for grief to surge up in its place—exactly what I’d been trying to avoid.

  The floor behind me was full of wounded Paladin, those who were only partially mended because their injuries had been too severe to completely heal without risking draining the healers themselves. I’d spent hours working side by side with my mother, grandmother, and other Paladin, finding blankets and pillows that weren’t ruined with age or by mice, making poultices, fetching water, trying to find food, and anything else I could do to help make them more comfortable—and stay as busy as possible, trying to force my mind away from the horror of the last day and night. Any pause in activity allowed a rush of memory too painful to delve into; the Chimera, Halvor’s sacrifice, nearly losing Raidyn, all the Paladin who had been slaughtered by the jaklas … Sami. I’d volunteered to go out into the rain to pick any ripe vegetables or fruit to eat, unable to bear facing the kitchen, when I knew I would never again find her there, her cheeks dusted with flour; I’d never again stand side by side with her washing dishes, talking about everything and nothing.

  I sensed Raidyn coming up behind me moments before his arms slid around my waist, pulling me back into his chest, the warmth of his body chasing away some of the chill that slithered over my skin, delving deep into muscle and bone. I wrapped my arms over his, holding him tightly, all too aware of how close he’d come to dying. Only the inordinate power Inara wielded had been capable of saving him. But after she’d lost consciousness and then woken again, she’d been different, worn out, more easily drained; whatever bottomless well of power she’d been allowed to tap into had closed, leaving her with a gift to be reckoned with, but nothing like what she’d been capable of during the battle.

  A gift that had been our salvation.

  Without her endless store of energy and power, we wouldn’t have succeeded, and many more would have died. Including Raidyn and Sharmaine. Possibly all of us, ultimately.

  So I stood still and held on to him, because he was real, and solid, and warm with life, and so was I. Though my body ached with fatigue, my eyes burning with suppressed grief, more than anything I was just grateful—that I was alive to feel that exhaustion and sorrow, that we were able to cling to each other there in that empty doorway.

  We were silent, knowing there were no words sufficient for the losses we’d suffered—but also the triumph we’d finally managed to achieve.

  Together, we watched Inara straighten from the last injured Paladin outside, while two men hefted the woman into their arms, carrying her into the citadel, out of the rain, leaving my sister standing alone in the middle of the grounds. I stirred in Raidyn’s arms, ready to go to her, when Loukas appeared, striding across the courtyard, directly toward her as though he had been watching, waiting for her to finish.

  When she turned to him, the myriad of emotions rushing through her—grief and pain and weariness, yes, but others alongside those, feelings for him—were so strong, I couldn’t ignore them, even from this distance. It was unexpected and a little alarming. With everything else that had happened, I’d almost forgotten what I’d seen when she’d let me help her heal Raidyn, the kiss she and Loukas had shared, the things she’d felt in that blinding, beautiful light.

  I thought she’d been in love with Halvor. They’d certainly seemed close. But when Loukas took her into his arms, holding her in the rain, it was undeniable that what she felt for him was far stronger than anything I’d ever sensed from her toward Halvor—which was part relief and part sadness.

  “Well, that’s … unexpected,” Raidyn commented.

  I made a noncommittal noise, feeling a little guilty, like we were intruding on a private moment. They were standing in the middle of the grounds, though, in full view of anyone who happened to look, and I couldn’t seem to make myself turn away.

  But when Loukas took her face in his hands, his body curving toward her, and I realized he was going to kiss her again, the guilt transmuted into mortification. We definitely shouldn’t stand there watching them do that.

  Raidyn stiffened, his arms tightening so much around me, I couldn’t move.

  “What is he doing?”

  I forgot Raidyn hadn’t known what happened in Visimperum. I squirmed in his arms until he loosened them with a low “sorry,” and turned to face him, drawing his focus to me. “There hasn’t been time to tell you … but when we healed you, and I joined my power to hers, I saw them kissing in Visimperum.”

  Raidyn’s mouth twisted. “He better not be taking advantage of your sister,” he growled.

  “I think they might be falling in love,” I admitted and his eyebrows shot up.

  “Loukas? And … Inara?”

  I nodded.

  “Loukas and Inara,” he repeated. “My best friend and your sister.”

  “There are worse things that could happen.”

  “What about Halvor?” He glanced past me and then quickly back down at my face, the tender skin below his jaw flushing. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know why. It was one thing to know your sister was kissing someone, but another altogether to watch it happen.

  “I don’t know. I know she cared for him … but I’ve never sensed anything from her like what she feels with Loukas.”

  Raidyn bent forward, until his forehead rested against mine. “I will talk to him. He’s not one to kiss just anyone … so he must care for her. But … if he doesn’t love her, then I will tell him to leave her alone right now, before he can hurt her more than he may already have.”

  Part of me bristled at the idea of him interfering—but it was Inara we were talking about, and if there was any chance Loukas didn’t care for her as much as I suspected she was beginning to for him, well … “You’ll have to let me know what he says.”

  There was a pause, when I let my eyes drift shut, our breath mingling, a sudden awareness of how close we stood, and the realization that as much as I longed to go find a secluded corner somewhere and kiss him until there was no death, no loss, no pain or exhaustion, nothing but me and him and lips and touch and fire … there was also no rush, because we had made it, the threat was gone, and miraculously, we had time for the first chance since I’d met him.

  “You need to rest,” Raidyn rasped, low and soft, leading me to believe rest was the last thing on his mind.

  “Only if you come with me,” I said, realizing an instant too late how it would sound. Raidyn drew back, eyes wide, eyebrows nearly to his hairline. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “Because … you help … the bad dreams … your stories…” I stammered.

  “Oh, I see how it is. You only want me for my storytelling skills. And here I hoped you wanted me for other things.” A wicked gleam lit up his beautiful eyes, sending the heat in my cheeks gliding over my entire body with a delicious shiver. A languid weakness melted through my legs at the unspoken promises in that look, in that teasing tone of voice.

  “I want you for everything,” I said, and his fingers curled into my spine, his gaze raking over me. Hunger and fire and something else … something even more powerful that made my heart slam against my chest. Once he’d told me he could no longer hide his feelings from me, but I’d been afraid then—afraid to believe what I felt, what I hoped to be true. But now, more than ever, it was so clear, there was no denying it. The emotion that filled his heart, so much
that it could barely contain it, was matched only by the reflection of it in my own chest.

  I loved him.

  Deeply, completely. Body, heart, and soul—so fiercely, it was almost unbearable, a love so exquisite and powerful it hurt.

  His eyes burned even brighter; his hands were brands through my still-damp shirt from the rain. “And I want you—forever, meaula amarre,” he responded, all teasing gone, a fervency in its place that made me go very, very still.

  “What does that mean?”

  “The literal translation is my soul’s love.” Raidyn’s gaze was unwavering. “It means you are the one my soul was meant to love, Zuhra.”

  I stared up at him, drinking in the beauty of his face, his eyes. “I love you too, Raidyn. So much … I—”

  His mouth closed over mine, cutting off the need for more words. I clung to him, the heat of his touch, the fire of his kiss, and the warmth from his love far more powerful than anything else I’d ever experienced in my life. I was intoxicated by him; delirious with relief and joy and need. I stretched up on my tiptoes so I could press more fully against the sculpted planes of his body. Unbidden, an image of his charred, ruined flesh flashed through my mind, and I had to suppress a shudder, knowing how close I’d been to losing him forever.

  “What is this?”

  We broke apart and spun to face my father, but he grinned at us, one eyebrow lifted. Awareness of where we stood—only a few feet away from injured Paladin—made my cheeks grow hot yet again. And I’d been judging Inara for kissing Loukas in an empty courtyard. I would have buried my face in my hands, hiding my mortification, if Raidyn hadn’t still been holding one.

  “Sir, I want you to know, I have only the most honest, pure intentions with your daughter. I love her, and I fully intend to—”

  “I know, Raid,” my father cut into his rambling—I had never heard Raidyn speak so fast before—with a gentle smile, all teasing gone. “I know you are an honorable young man. And I can easily see how happy you make each other. The light knows we all could use some happiness right now.”