Queens of Wings & Storms

Home > Other > Queens of Wings & Storms > Page 29
Queens of Wings & Storms Page 29

by Angela Sanders et al.


  Opening her eyes, she was staring through a swirling circle of glowing yellow spirals. Freedom lay beyond.

  Dizziness overtook her as she jumped to her feet. It was too much. The portal was there, but there was nothing left to even carry her through. Blackness clouded her vision as she collapsed mere inches from the swirling opening.

  Hopelessness replaced the strength she’d felt moments before, a whimper escaping her lips; her life was over.

  Chapter 3

  Alazne was surrounded by warmth. She could lay in this warmth forever—

  Wait, that wasn’t right. Shouldn’t she be cold? Lying in some Hunter prison cell on a concrete floor? It certainly smelled like what she’d think a Hunter prison cell would smell like.

  Yet, she could feel life all around her, a great place to renew her strength. Her eyes fluttered open.

  Surrounded by animals, she realized the smell was from them, some sort of farm house. A barn. And she was being held by the handsome man she’d been running with.

  He was watching her, intent, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. For a split second, she thought she could love this man, then she remembered what he was. Any thought of wanting to lay like this forever vanished as she twisted out of his arms, jumping to her feet.

  Patting her chest and stomach, she found what she was looking for was still in her tunic. Pulling the blaster, she held it in both hands, pointing at his head.

  “So, we’re back to this,” he said. Did a flicker of annoyance just cross his features? This man was an idiot if he thought she was somehow an ally.

  Something niggled in her mind about that. Flashes of memory as they ran. First, he was chasing her, then he was being chased with her. Being chased by the Hunters, even though he was one—

  Wait a minute—

  She looked around at their surroundings. They were in the pasture she saw beyond that last bridge she opened. None of their potential captors were anywhere to be seen.

  She had reached that freedom after all. But how? She’d collapsed inches before entering the portal. Did he carry her through?

  “You’re not a Hunter, are you?” she said.

  “Healer—” he started.

  “Quit calling me that,” Alazne interrupted. “I’m a witch, not a healer.”

  His eyes flicked to the side and Alazne stepped forward, raising her weapon higher so he knew she meant business. He froze, making eye contact with her. Something in the depth of his eyes made her lower the blaster, but only a little.

  “I’m looking for a healer,” he said.

  She used the blaster to point at his crimson jacket with yellow shoulder braid. “Why are you dressed like this?”

  “Because I’m looking for a healer.” His voice suggested she should know why he was dressed the way he was.

  Lowering the gun all the way, Alazne hissed through her teeth. This man, handsome as he was, had to be an idiot. “Hunters don’t look for healers.”

  Having no time for idiots, she started walking away. Whatever this man was doing, she didn’t want any part of it.

  “Of course, they do,” the disguised Hunter said, following her. In her periphery, she noticed as he nodded in her direction. “What do you think Hunters do?”

  She stopped and turned towards him. “What do I think Hunters do? Where have you been all this time? What planet are you from?”

  “I’m from Karr,” he said as he stopped short of running into her, standing up straight, a proud air about him.

  She blinked. That planet was in the Far Expanse.

  She’d never met anyone from the Far Expanse before. She wasn’t even sure it was a habitable system. Were there magic wielders in that system? He had followed her through the portals and shouldn’t have been able to. Now she was curious.

  “Are you saying that Hunters don’t look for healers?” he said.

  Curiosity falling by the wayside, exasperation bubbling to the surface, Alazne said, “Are you playing some sort of game?”

  He rocked back as if she’d hit him. “I’m not playing any games. My mother is dying. I need a healer.”

  It was her turn to rock back. Oh.

  “I’m dressed like this so a Healer will see me and know I need her. I don’t understand why you keep running away.”

  “No healer is ever going to approach you wearing that.”

  The man’s head bowed as he looked himself over, raising his arms as his eyes traversed over them. “I worked hard on this disguise,” he said.

  “Congratulations. You definitely fooled me,” she said.

  The man’s hands dropped to his sides, defeat crossing his features. “My mother is dying. I was told Hunters are the ones who search for and find healers for worlds that need them. A Healer was supposed to come to me when she saw me dressed like this.”

  Alazne’s mouth fell open. Her heart felt heavy for this man’s mother, but how could he not know what Hunters were really for? It must have been some propaganda from his world. Did everyone in the Far Expanse think this way?

  This man was a magic user. Even if he could walk through a portal she opened without magic, which he couldn’t have, there was no way he carried her through with her being unconscious without it.

  Maybe his erroneous belief was some kind of Hunter propaganda to lure people from his region.

  Going with that, she said, “Hunters hunt witches. That Healer nonsense propaganda is a cover up for what they’re actually doing.”

  “Healer, please come with me,” he said. “My quest has taken too long; my mother may be dead already.”

  Alazne resisted the urge to tell him to quit calling her that. He was very clearly desperate, dumb as he was. For whatever reason, he wasn’t getting it. Stupid or not, though, his request weighed heavy on her heart.

  She could not return home. That was out of the question. But she did know a witch healer that recently moved to Quan. She figured it wouldn’t hurt to guide this man there, especially since he wasn’t really a Hunter and really did need help.

  And Jessa was always willing to help someone in need; that’s what made her a good healer. However, she could still refuse. Did this man want a healer to accompany him to the Far Expanse? That might be a no-go for Jessa.

  First, though, she had to be absolutely sure. This could all still be a trick and leading him to her friend would be disastrous.

  Pulling her wand, she opened a portal. Glancing at the man in disguise, she walked through it.

  Zenon was a little taken aback by the new portal the Healer just opened, but had no problem following her, lest she get away. He looked at the wand in her hand and how she waved it in a circular pattern, the same pattern as the brightly glowing opening of the portal.

  He had wanted to fix it, but it appeared her tech didn’t need to be fixed after all. Still puzzled that it was just a piece of wood, he shook his head at the thought it was magic. There was no such thing as magic. Why did she insist on telling him there was? Although—

  “There are no such things as witches, you know,” he said as he brushed a large fern out of his path, wishing he could explore these strange worlds they kept moving through. “I suppose you really believe you’re opening up space bridges using magic?”

  “You’re some kind of wizard. How can you say that?”

  He stared at her mouth a second, transfixed by her full lips. Then what she said caught up to his brain and he barked a laugh. “A wizard? I don’t think so.”

  “The only way you can follow me through a portal is if you’re a magic-user yourself. And you carried me unconscious, didn’t you? You definitely couldn’t have done that without magic. So maybe your game isn’t that you’re a Hunter, but actually a wizard trying to dupe me in some other way.”

  Dupe her? This woman seemed to be wary of tricksters and definitely of Hunters. He understood the latter to some extent, especially after they chased them with hostile intentions. But what was it about Hunters, really?

  “Sa
y I did believe this magic nonsense. What are Hunters actually doing?” he asked.

  “They kill us. They even kill the ones that really are healers, not use them to help the sick and dying.”

  “Why would anyone want to kill Healers?” Zenon was horrified. No wonder it took him so long to find one.

  “Witches,” the woman said. “They’re killing witches.”

  There she went with the witch nonsense again. Pursing his lips, he concluded that witches were what she referred to as Healers. “You just said—”

  “Quit messing with me,” she snapped.

  Zenon felt a nibble of frustration. He had no idea why he felt so drawn to this woman, but he needed a healer and she wasn’t helping. At all.

  “If you want my help, you need to smarten up,” the woman added.

  “Oh, so you will come with me to heal my mother.” Zenon felt a weight lift from his mind. Thank the stars. Whatever she wanted to call herself, that was all that mattered to him.

  “I’m not a Healer.” She emphasized each word as if he hadn’t heard her the last few times she’d said it. “I won’t be going with you to your world, but I can take you to someone who might.”

  The more Alazne spoke with this man, the better she felt. He truly didn’t seem to know about Hunters, so she wasn’t as alarmed about leading him to her friend. She still wasn’t exactly sure about him, but there was something intriguing she couldn’t put a finger on.

  A bright yellow butterfly fluttered between them, green ferns swaying softly in a warm tropical breeze.

  “I’m Alazne, by the way.” She stuck out her hand to shake hands in greeting.

  He jumped away from her, pulling the blaster he procured from the Hunter arsenal. “I do not accept your challenge, but I will defend myself all the same!”

  Alazne’s heart jumped into her throat. What the? “I’m not challenging you.”

  “Then why are you showing your hand?”

  Looking at her extended hand, she said, “I’m introducing myself. It’s a greeting. You’re supposed to shake it.”

  Goddess, what an extreme reaction to an outstretched hand! She glanced nervously at his gun.

  “I will never shake it,” he said, hesitating a moment before putting his gun away. “That is the wrong way to greet someone.”

  She dropped her arm, relief that he put his gun away. “Then how do you greet people?”

  He held up his arm, bent at the elbow, forearm parallel with his body, hand in a fist. “Zenon,” he said.

  “So, Zenon is your name?”

  “Yes.”

  Liking that name, she smiled, then copied him, saying, “Alazne.”

  Bumping his forearm against hers, he said, “Now that is a proper greeting.”

  Her armed tingled where they touched and she rubbed it.

  “What kind of world has such an unorthodox greeting? Where are you from?” he said, rubbing his own arm. Did he feel that tingle too?

  She could feel the scowl on her face. “I’m a Witch of Adamar. We have many Earth customs on our planet; that greeting is one of them”

  “Earth,” he said, arrogant tone gone. “My mother used to speak of Earth.”

  Catching movement in his jacket, Alazne nodded towards it. “What’s that?”

  “What’s what?”

  “You are very good at playing the idiot, aren’t you?”

  Zenon’s jacket rustled, something making a roving lump as it moved. Jumping to the side as he craned he head towards his back, he screeched as a squirrel that could fit in the palm of the hand scurried to his shoulder. Reddish brown with a white stomach and bushy red tail, black tufts of fur stuck straight up from its ears.

  It would have been funny if Alazne didn’t know immediately that this was a magical creature.

  “Liar,” she yelled. “You are a wizard!”

  “What? I am no such thing.” He swiped at the squirrel, who easily avoided his hand as it ran to his other shoulder.

  “Your familiar runs out of your jacket and you expect me to believe you know nothing about magic?”

  He hopped on one leg as he slapped at his shoulder, then his pocket when the squirrel ran into it. It showed up on his pant leg and he swiped there, his pants flapping loudly. But the squirrel had already made it up his back and was on his shoulder again.

  The sting of betrayal pricked Alazne’s skin. “You tricked me.”

  “Why would I trick you?” Zenon all but screamed as he continued his dance with the little woodland creature. “It must have come from the barn.”

  Alazne opened another portal and ran through, saying, “I will not take you to a healer. I can’t even trust you!”

  Chapter 4

  Zenon stood, stunned into silence as the squirrel ran laps across his back and around his chest. She left. The healer or witch or whatever—

  Alazne left.

  He watched as she ran through the dimensional doorway, only seeing white on the other side. Cold air blew through the swirling opening.

  He grabbed at the object of his current misfortune, but the woodland creature was elusive.

  Follow her, a voice sounded. He turned sharply to look behind him. No one was there, so he looked back through the chilly opening.

  Follow her, the voice said again, this time seemingly on the wind.

  Dammit, he did not come this far to lose such a big lead now. Maybe she wasn’t a Healer, but she said she knew one. And maybe this damnable small animal just ruined his chance, but he had to try to win her trust, however much he had to begin with.

  Grabbing a stick, he tried to dislodge the squirrel from his back, but the damn thing wasn’t budging. Fine. It could stay there for all he cared. It was just a squirrel. Why Alazne had such an adverse reaction to it was beyond him.

  Trotting through the swirling doorway, his breath was immediately stolen by a gust of freezing wind. Hugging his arms around himself, he was surrounded by jagged spires of ice. If she thought he was going to follow her and freeze to death in this hostile land, she was mistaken.

  If he was lucky, the squirrel would freeze to death before he caught up with her and he could explain himself better. Regardless of what she thought, he was in no way a wizard or any other type of magic user. Magic didn’t even exist!

  She is around that bend there. That voice again. Where was it coming from? This time it sounded like it was in his head. Maybe this quest had him going a little nuts. Speaking of—

  The squirrel moved near his right breast and he slapped at it.

  “Quit following me.” Alazne jumped from behind one of the frozen formations.

  Well, that made finding her a lot easier. The witch woman was shivering and he grinned. Perhaps she was in over her head in jumping to this frozen landscape.

  Tiny feet scurried around under his jacket before the damnable squirrel popped out through his collar. Scrambling to his shoulder, it said, “Alazne, get us out of here; it’s freezing.”

  Stars almighty, did it just speak?

  The little creature launched itself from his shoulder and landed in Alazne’s outstretched hands. Of all the unexpected things, that was at the top.

  Her familiar! The magical creature didn’t belong to the man in disguise, it belonged to Alazne. And it was freezing to death.

  Cupping it against her body, Alazne quickly opened a bridge back to the tropical world of Elder. Once they were safely secure on the other side, she smiled at her animal guide.

  Every witch on her planet hoped for one, but not every witch got one. A familiar must come to the witch on its own accord.

  “I’ve been waiting for a familiar my whole life,” Alazne couldn’t contain her excitement.

  The man who continued to follow her through dimensional doorways, no matter how many times she opened one, stepped though. The look on his face could only be described as dumbfounded. She looked up at him.

  “This is why you found me,” she said. “To bring me my familiar. Sometimes a witch has to w
ait a lifetime to find an animal guide.”

  Zenon stared at her, his gaze softening but his face rigid. “I found you to heal my mother. It’s not a trick. I just need a healer.”

  Alazne nodded at the truth of those words. He really was just looking for someone to heal his sick mother. For the first time, she looked at him, really looked at him—

  She could get lost in the depth of his soft brown eyes forever. Diverting her eyes to the squirrel, she remembered he had said his mother could be dead already. Dread washed over her at the thought that all of the delay because of her could have meant life or death.

  “I will take you to my friend, Jessa. She’s a witch healer from Adamar, a good one too.” She stroked the squirrel’s tiny head, who leaned into her touch. “I still think you’re a wizard, though.”

  Zenon let out a loud sigh. “If you could drop the magic nonsense—”

  “I don’t understand how you don’t believe in magic,” Alazne said, irritation biting through her dread. Making eye contact again, the irritation bled away, mind drifting.

  “I don’t either,” the squirrel’s tiny voice piped up. “But he’s stubborn that way.”

  Zenon jumped back as if she were holding a snake. “It does talk!”

  Snapping out of whatever spell this man was casting on her, Alazne rolled her eyes. “Goddess, how did you survive to adulthood?”

  “Speaking of surviving,” the squirrel said. “You need food and recentering before you can open another portal.”

  Alazne marveled that her familiar was already so attuned that it knew what she needed.

  “What does it mean by that?” Zenon said.

  “I can’t just open portals all day long. It takes concentration and energy.”

  Zenon looked skeptical. “O-kay, so does that mean you can’t open another portal today?”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, very aware of how much time had been wasted already. “I will take you to a healer. I just need to eat and surround myself with life.” She looked around and breathed in the humid but lively air of the tropical world. “I will be able to summon my power in a couple hours.”

 

‹ Prev