Queens of Wings & Storms

by Angela Sanders et al.

  “—based on desire and environment,” her voice was saying. He blinked. Did he miss something? Another urge to resist hit him like a hammer, the urge to bury his nose in her hair and inhale that sweet scent.

  “Like I have the power to wield portals, but I don’t have the power to heal.” Alazne’s head swiveled up with a grin and he had to lean his back to keep from bumping noses. “Despite popular belief, not all witches are healers.”

  He chuckled at that, then paused. Did she just move closer?

  “Each witch from Adamar has her own kind of power,” she said, and he definitely didn’t imagine her eyes darting to his lips, breath sweet as the fruit she liked to eat. “The powers are sometimes derived from the environment they grow up in at home or even the climate around them.”

  Lips almost close enough to touch, he whispered, “How did you get your powers?”

  She leaned back slightly, and he blinked. What did he say?

  “I, um, always had a deep desire for adventure and travel, so when my power developed, it took me to other worlds.”

  There was more to it than that. Had to be. Why else would she pull away? Not to mention suddenly looking cagey.

  Then like the snap of a finger, she was back to that easy-going, knowing smile. “You’re not going to refute any of that?”

  “No, I’ve seen enough to think that maybe there’s something.” And he meant it. “That maybe you really are using magic to make holes through time and space. But this—” Feeling the need to break any residual tension, he rummaged through his jacket, producing his stick, “—is definitely just a stick.”

  The wand came to life, flying from his hand only to turn sharply, slapping him soundly on the wrist before flying out the door and into the desert beyond.

  “Ow!” He shook his hand to ward off the sting.

  Alazne laughed, the sound warming his heart. Finding it easy to speak with this woman, it was hard not to smile.

  “Do you know why I can’t go back to Adamar?” she suddenly said.

  Something told him he should stop her, but the intrigue was too much. Lern was a bad influence.

  “I was betrothed. My family said I was getting too old, taking too long to find my Lifemate, so they picked a husband for me.”

  The desire to kiss her evaporated like every drop of water on the surface of this planet. Mind snapping, blood boiling, he shook with an anger he hadn’t known in a very long time.

  “You don’t want to take me to a planet full of healers because you don’t want to get married?”

  Her eyes widened. “What? No—”

  Zenon jumped to his feet. “My mother is dying!”

  Unable to stand the sight of the witch, he stomped down the ramp, ignoring her calls for him to ‘come back’ and ‘listen.’ He’d heard enough.

  The strange squirrel was waiting at the bottom. Watching him. Judging him.

  “Not a word, robot,” he said, squelching across the sand towards Lern’s domicile.

  “You still think I’m a robot?”

  “I think you’re a spirit that needs warding off.” Turning back around, he patted his jacket. “Where’s my stick? Where are you, Stick?”

  Oh, yea, it flew out the door.

  When it didn’t return at his behest, he let his arms fell to his side and continued the trek.

  Chapter 11

  Zenon paced the floor of Lern’s round adobe domicile. Stupid. What was he thinking? He didn’t know the situation. Clearly, she didn’t want to marry so badly that a power to manifest portals to other worlds rose in her.

  He stopped pacing. Stars, is that how it happened?

  Wow, he was an insensitive piece of snarfle dung. The guy she was to marry must have been a real piece of work for her to run away, to think she could never return to her home world.

  The sound of drilling grabbing his attention, he paced over to Lern’s workbench—

  And sucked sharply on warm dry air.

  “Always wanted to figure out the tech of a witch’s wand,” Lern said, eyepiece in place as he drilled a tiny hole in Zenon’s stick.

  Acting fast, Zenon moved the old man aside, snatching up the stick and giving it a quick inspection before stuffing it in his jacket. “It’s not a wand.”

  Lern looked upon him like he was seeing him for the first time, eye enlarged through the magnifying glass of the eyepiece. “You’re full of surprises, Zenon.”

  Seemingly snapping out of it, reaching under the workbench, Lern pulled up two suits of heavy thermal heat-shielding armor.

  Thinking on the conversation he had over the communication array, Zenon narrowed his eyes. “Eavesdropping, old man?”

  Lern presented that toothy grin. “Always.”

  Raising his eyebrows, Zenon shook his head, unworried the hermit would cause any problems for him.

  “When you get to Hellumon, get off that pretty little ship as soon as possible.” Lern’s lippy smile became a straight line. Producing a tablet from beneath his bench, he tapped on a map. “Have her drop you off here, at the Bedrock Volcano.”

  Tapping twice, the map zoomed in to a circle of tight contours. Lern’s finger traced a path down the steep slope to a large square building. “Take this lava road to the mining facility, Last Hope.”

  Lern looked up. “You can enter through a vent on the north side without being seen.”

  Offering the tablet, Zenon took it, studying the route presented. It was dangerous, but doable. “Thanks, Lern.”

  “It’ll buy you more time, anyway,” Lern said. “Going in there on that ship and simply waiting is foolhardy.”

  Zenon lifted his head, rolling his eyes. “We weren’t going to just simply wait.”

  “Well, this is better.”

  It wasn’t easier, but Zenon could admit it was, indeed, better. Plus, he didn’t know they’d have access to thermal armor, so more options were now open.

  Lern presented an open palm, a nice shiny, round mind-control device resting there.

  Plucking it from the offered hand, Zenon said, “Wow, this is perfect.”

  “Not perfect,” Lern tsked. “Perfect would be if it were functional. But it’ll look the part, as ordered.”

  Mulling the old plan over in his mind, focusing on the contingencies he had in place coupled with the new options, Zenon was feeling confident about this mission. Needing to look strong for Alazne, he had put on a confident front to make her believe they could pull it off, but he wasn’t exactly so sure. Now?

  This was going to work.

  Finally changing out of the Hunter clothing— Alazne would be proud— he donned the all black protective garments that would fit under the armor and waltzed out into the desert.

  The blazing sun beat against his black clothes, the planet so dry, he didn’t break a sweat. Maybe Lern was onto something with the choice to live here.

  Wand hovering next to him, he grabbed it and stuck it under his arm, nowhere else to put it. Apparently not liking that arrangement, the stick flew free, zipping towards Keia’s small ship.

  Spotting Alazne’s gorgeous reddish-brown hair, his heart ached. Apologize, that’s what he’d do. And he was sorry, and stupid.

  Back facing him as he approached the ship, he reached for Alazn’e shoulder when Keia’s voice called out. “Whoah, you’re looking hot!”

  He looked down at himself, at the dark pants and shirt he desperately wished wasn’t long sleeves. Yes, it was damn hot. Skin prickling, practically begging for a pool of water to be dipped in, he probably looked scorching.

  There was movement in front of him, Alazne turning around, and he looked up just in time to see her mouth close, eyes traversing his torso.

  “I’m sorry,” he said in a rush. “I don’t know the situation. I overreacted.”

  Of all the urges he’d been able to resist recently, he was unable to resist touching her face, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “You’re right, you don’t know,” Alazne’s voice was
ice as she backed away, his hand now hanging midair.

  Damn, he had broken her trust. There was no way she would ever want to be close enough for a kiss again—

  That’s okay. He couldn’t pursue a relationship with her anyway. It was best they remain distant.

  “Oh, yes, she’s my favorite, too,” Lern’s voice sounded from behind and Zenon jumped as if stung.

  “Now’s not the time for screwing around, Lern,” a tiny voice said from the ground.

  Zenon swung towards the tiny squirrel, reining in a startled yelp.

  “I should have known.” Lern did not sound surprised a squirrel knew his name. “Ariad.”

  Zenon’s mouth fell open. How did the old hermit know the robot’s name?

  How dare he come out looking like an Adonis in that tight shirt, muscles rippling with his movements, gun holstered at his hip like some sort of military commander—

  And apologizing. If Zenon thought an apology was going to work after such a rejection, he really was the idiot she initially thought.

  She rarely spoke about the incident with her family and he didn’t even give her half a chance. Kicking herself for letting her guard down, letting this man pull her in like that, only to be ground up and spit out—

  He was a trickster after all. How could she be so stupid?

  But right now, he looked as confused as she was.

  “You know my familiar?” Alazne’s voice cracked on the last word.

  “I know a lot of things.” Lern’s toothy grin had an edge to it that made her blink.

  Ariad crawled up her pants, tiny feet prickling her back before stopping on her shoulder, apparently to be at eye level to glare at the man.

  Only Lern’s attention was already drawn elsewhere, his lips smacking as he stared into the open side door of the Hummingbird.

  Alazne turned to try and parse what he was looking at.

  “I want that.” The man’s voice sounded more raspy than usual, not that she knew what ‘usual’ was for Lern’s voice. More raspy than she’d heard it thus far.

  Zenon must have figured out what the hermit was after, because he said, “Can’t have that.”

  Eyes narrowed, Lern said, “That’s my terms of payment.”

  “Payment?” Zenon’s voice took on a squeak that he coughed down.

  A swirl of dust breezed around their legs, ruffling their clothes before passing on. Alazne brushed off a thin layer that now coated her arms.

  “Well, yes, lad. You didn’t expect to just come and get all this great service for free, did you?” Lern winked at her and Alazne blinked again.

  That was odd. She was suddenly under the distinct impression she was missing something about this relationship, eyebrows drawing together as she studied the interaction between these two men.

  “We need it,” Zenon said.

  “Don’t we all.” Lern gave a light chuckle.

  Pursing his lips, Zenon climbed the short ramp and pulled down the netting from the ceiling of the ship’s only room, returning with the jar of water in hand.

  Handing it over, the old man grabbed it up, wasting no time in opening it. He stuck his nose through the top of the jar, inhaling deeply. Then it was at his lips, head tilting back before swallowing the clear liquid in loud gulping swigs.

  Liquid drained, his head snapped forward and he wiped his mouth with his tattered sleeve, letting out a satisfied “Aaah.”

  Zenon’s frown when the old man handed back the empty jar almost made her laugh, but she bit her tongue. Hard.

  Giving the frowning Adonis a pat on the back, Lern said, “Give your mother my regards.”

  The codger winked at Alazne again and her eyebrows furrowed as her head slightly rocked back. This man was freaking weird. Even Keia’s gaze was one of guarded caution.

  Lern opened his arms and Zenon gave him a reluctant hug, eyes plastered to the empty jar in his right hand.

  As they ambled up the ramp, her familiar’s hand raised in a wave that the old man slowly returned. Not knowing how to even react to that, it was definitely time to go. Lern’s World was a strange place.

  The trip to Hellumon was one of silence, mostly. Zenon went over the plan in detail, making sure Keia knew where to fly, how low, how fast, and all the other things about flying a spacecraft over a lava-covered world that Alazne didn’t understand.

  Hyperaware of his proximity, she wanted to yell at him and lean into his warmth all at once. He must have sensed the former because he spent the whole journey inclined away from her.

  Or maybe that was because he was using the time to sew something on the front of his shirt. Which also meant he was shirtless, her wondering eyes trying to look like she wasn’t staring not helping. She also caught Keia stealing a glance or two.

  Whole journey— It wasn’t that far, only about six hours, as Lern’s World was in the same solar system and close to boot. But it might as well have been a lifetime. Those rippling muscles—

  Focus, Alazne. Taking several deep breaths, eyes closed, she concentrated on the life-giving energy of her familiar. From what she understood, Hellumon was a dead world. Nothing like the Dead World, but certainly one with no life.

  You are still vitalized from the Light Spirits, Ariad said, the squirrel’s soft breath light on her neck.

  “I am,” she said.

  “You are not,” Zenon’s voice cut into her thoughts and her eyes flew open, not missing that he was now fully clothed, his wand snuggly secured in a long pocket across his chest. Oh, so that’s what he was sewing. “I can see you right here. You’re still in your street clothes.”

  “I’m not what?” Had she spoken aloud? How long was she meditating?

  “You aren’t ready.” He sounded exasperated. “I just asked if you’re ready and you said, ‘I am.’”

  “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to—” Looking from her familiar on her shoulder to his scrunched face, she said, “Never mind.”

  Zenon handed her a folded pile of black clothing, similar to the thermal clothing he was wearing.

  Right. The undergarments for the heat-shielding armor. No one told her that little detail before they left Lern’s World, where there were plenty of places to change clothes. She’d just assumed Zenon had finally changed out of that awful Hunter uniform. Who knew his new outfit was functional, out of necessity? Where the hell was she going to change on this ship without him being right there?

  Grabbing them away from him, she stood, her elbow coming in contact with the side of his head.

  “Ow,” he exclaimed, rubbing his head.

  Oops! The ship was shrinking by the minute.

  Keia made a noise with her mouth, something akin to hissing, before turning towards them. “Okay, whatever is going on, you two need to come to an understanding. Hellumon is unforgiving enough.”

  When did Ariad move to Keia’s shoulder? The familiar’s gaze was just as stern as the young pilot’s.

  Alazne deflated.

  “You’re right,” she said at the same time as Zenon.

  She glanced towards him, but couldn’t make eye contact.

  “I trust you,” she said. “But I don’t forgive you.”

  Head slowly nodding, he let out a deep breath. “Fair enough.”

  “Good,” Keia said, squirrel squeaking in agreement. “Now we can stop this silent treatment and move on.”

  Sitting in Keia’s unwanted silence for a few more seconds, Zenon cleared his throat.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t look while you change.”

  Swiveling his chair towards the portside wall, his back was now to her. Putting his hands behind his head, he turned slightly, making to look as if he was watching through the crook of his arm.

  Both Keia and Ariad laughed. She tried bottling it up, but a giggle escaped her anyway and she whipped at his head with the black thermal shirt.

  Seeing the satisfied grin before he turned back towards the wall, Alazne removed her jacket and shirt to don the
new one. There was a roughly sewn pocket on the front like Zenon’s. Tracing the seams, she couldn’t help her own smile at his thoughtfulness.

  Taking her wand from the jacket she was no longer wearing, she slipped it into the long pocket.

  It stuck out, lopsided from her breasts. That wasn’t going to work. Removing the wand and the shirt, she twisted the shirt around her neck before stuffing her arms back into the sleeves. Reaching behind her, she put the wand in the pocket that was now at her back. Much better.

  Movement in Zenon’s direction caught her attention and she looked up just in time to see his wand float up from his front. Keia giggled and she stifled her own laugh. How did that manage to look so comical?

  “Sorry,” Zenon grabbed the wand out of the air. “Stick has a mind of its own.”

  Yes, it did. Strangest wand she’d ever known.

  Hellumon—

  ‘Unforgiving’ was the last word she’d use to describe this place. ‘Insane’ came to mind. Hell—

  As in it was exactly what some Earth cultures described as being Hell. The only thing missing were red demons with pitchforks, though she wasn’t entirely convinced they weren’t down there somewhere.

  Lava flowed over the entire surface of the planet. Dark volcanoes rose from the red substance, glowing rivers of it winding down to meet oceans of smoldering orange that promised to melt everything that came into contact. Arcs of deadly luminescent spray spouted in no discernible pattern. Yellow fire danced on rolling landscapes fraught with peril.

  “There’s the Bedrock Volcano,” Keia said. How could the young witch sound so calm? “Egress in five minutes.”

  Her whole body felt hot, and not just because the ship was literally heating up from the thermals rising from the planet’s surface, knocking them around as if the planet itself considered them a bug to squash.

  The dragon was awake. And the flitting Hummingbird was an annoyance.

  Chapter 12

  “Don’t vent your suit.” Zenon’s voice with an electronic lilt sounded through the comm in Alazne’s helmet at her ear. “The hot air will burn your skin.”