Then Alexandra was kissing Jeffrey on the mouth and wrapping her arms around his neck. He put up no resistance. The tray fell to the floor with a clatter, and oatmeal splashed warmly against her bare feet. Jeffrey put his arms around her waist and kissed her back. She could feel his body melting against her own. This was what he had been dreaming about for months now; his greatest fantasy. She could tell these things about men.
The guards by the door cursed under their breaths and entered the room. The one who had mocked Jeffrey put his hands around Jeffrey’s shoulders and tried to pull him back. The other grabbed Alexandra’s folded-back wings and pulled.
Alexandra’s mind raced. She spun and threw the palm of her right hand into the guard’s face, smashing the bridge of his nose. He bent over and snorted out blood. The security orbs began to flash and wail in alarm. Jeffrey let out a grunt as the other guard grabbed him by the hair. In a flash of movement, Alexandra kicked Jeffrey’s attacker in the groin, and when he doubled over, grunting and squeezing his eyes shut, she went ahead and plucked the crossbow out of his hands and pointed it at him.
“You bitch,” the guard said, clutching himself between his legs and baring his teeth at her. His cheeks and forehead had turned a light shade of red.
She shot him in the shoulder with the crossbow, sending him backward with a dog-like yelp.
The guard with the bleeding nose tackled Alexandra and knocked her on top of her wings. She struggled to break free, thinking the whole time of her husband, of Max, who was no longer with her but who might still be watching from a distant realm where demigods went after death. She had never believed in an afterlife, but it comforted her—no, it gave her strength—to imagine Max standing over them, watching her battle these weak men.
She managed to draw her knee up against the man’s abdomen and roll him over. Then she slapped and scratched at his face. He yanked her hair. She bit his hand and kneed him in the groin as she had done to the other. Jeffrey used the butt end of the crossbow to strike the guard’s head and knock him out.
“Bastard!” Alexandra said, punching and slapping the man. “You godless bastard!”
Rough hands grabbed her shoulders. She spun around, ready to strike but stopped when she saw Jeffrey’s pleading eyes.
“I’m dead anyway,” he said. “Follow me. I’ll get you out of here.”
An overhead alarm shrieked inside and outside the room.
“I’ll take you with me,” Alexandra said. “My people will keep you safe.”
Jeffrey forced a smile. His face was pale and sweaty. Alexandra grabbed a crossbow and tossed it at him. She picked up the other one. Together they ran out of the room.
She peeked into the corridor, checking her left first, followed by her right.
No guards—not yet, anyway.
“We need a window,” she said.
Jeffrey was at her side a moment later. His face was white with fear.
“We’re too high up. And your wings.”
“I can’t fly,” she said, “but I can break the fall. Trust me, Jeffrey.”
“OK, m’lady.” He nodded, pointing with his chin to the corridor down the right. “Here.”
She followed him, the crossbow feeling heavy in her hands. It had been decades since the last time she had held one. She could hear the clatter of footsteps as more soldiers rushed down the halls. There were no windows in this corridor. The door at the end of the next one over suggested some sort of advanced security measure, probably imported from the high-tech city of Theus.
Jeffrey produced a small, glowing keycard. “I got this off the head guard.”
“You’re wonderful.”
They ran the length of the corridor. Jeffrey was the first to reach the door, a big heavy-looking block of steel. It would have taken more than a few Sargonauts to smash it open.
It didn’t matter—they had the key.
Jeffrey slipped the card into a slot with a glowing red light above it. The light turned green and Alexandra almost wept with joy. The door beeped and slid up into the ceiling, revealing another corridor up ahead, again without windows. Red lamps had turned on overhead, washing the walls with the color of blood. The alarm wailed.
“Down here,” Jeffrey shouted, and together, side by side, holding the crossbows up by their chests, they ran to the end of the corridor and turned the corner.
She hadn’t heard the footsteps because of the alarm.
The men stared at her through faces that were little more than slitted eyes and bared, clenched teeth—the gruffest, meanest-looking guards she’d ever seen. They ran, boots pounding against the floor. There were four of them.
Jeffrey fired his crossbow. One of the guards, painted red by the warning lights, fell back as the bolt struck his leather armor. The energy that poured out of it made his eyelids flutter and his body twitch.
Alexandra fired her crossbow at another guard before the first even hit the ground. The bolt zipped across the corridor, a tiny red flash that took him down instantly. The two remaining guards lifted their crossbows and aimed. Jeffrey sidestepped in front of Alexandra.
“No!” she shouted, pushing him away. The force of the push sent her into the opposite wall. The bolts flew between them, missing them both by inches.
Without planning the action, Alexandra rushed forward and tackled one of the guards. Jeffrey did the same with the other. A wrestling match ensued.
She had killed men before. They had been her enemies, of course, and it had always been on the battlefield. But this time she faced a reality of battle she had never before encountered—a fierce, face-to-face grappling that seemed more real than anything from her past. She could smell the man’s sweat and feel his hot breath on her face and see the bits of food stuck between his teeth. She wanted to scream and cower in fear but managed somehow to hold her ground.
The guards were Humankin. If they had been Sargonauts or Feralkin, she would already have been dead. She managed to get the guard she was fighting down on his stomach. She put her arm around his throat and strangled him until he lost consciousness. It seemed to take forever, and she was worried about Jeffrey. He was behind her where she couldn’t see him, but she could hear him grunting in pain.
As soon as the guard was out cold, she rolled off of him and got up. The other guard had rolled Jeffrey onto his back and was punching his face, leaving it coated with blood. The alarm wailed, screaming at her to move fast.
She pulled the guard off Jeffrey, and together they beat the man until he was no longer responsive. Alexandra didn’t hear the snap as her left hand broke against the man’s head, though she felt the shiver of pain run up her arm. She cried out and squeezed her eyes shut.
Jeffrey reloaded two crossbows and pulled her up. He pushed a crossbow into her good hand and together they half-ran, half-stumbled down the corridor until they reached a sort of lobby where two guards stood watch. Alexandra fired her crossbow and took one guard in the throat. Jeffrey fired his crossbow and missed.
“Duck!” Alexandra shouted.
The rest happened in slow motion, or so it seemed to her. The man lifted his crossbow and fired at Jeffrey. Alexandra held her breath, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst.
The bolt flew. Alexandra waited to hear the ting indicating that it had missed and hit a wall instead. She didn’t hear the sound, but at the same time, she didn’t see Jeffrey weaken. The force of the bolt would have knocked him onto his back.
Jeffrey was looking down at his crossbow. He had reloaded it, which surprised Alexandra. He had done it so fast. He was more skilled than she had given him credit for. He had looked so much like a scared boy when she first saw him that she’d forgotten how resilient and well trained a man—especially a Humankin—had to be to qualify for service in the Royal Guard.
Jeffrey’s next shot toppled the guard. There was light—natural light!—at the opposite end of the corridor.
“There!” She pointed.
The window was high ab
ove the ground, too high for even the fittest guard to jump and climb up. She pointed at a chair next to the registration desk and Jeffrey nodded. He grabbed the chair and ran over to the window as Alexandra fired a bolt upward and shattered the glass. It fell sparkling like snow in the light.
The next few minutes passed in a blur of mad fumbling. They were both sweating and panting. Jeffrey stepped onto the chair and pulled her up. She marveled at his strength. He managed to press her broken hand in the process of picking her up, causing her to shriek. It didn’t matter and they both knew it. If they succeeded with their insane plan, there would be much more pain to come.
“I’ll hold on to the ledge outside,” she said. “When you fall out, grab onto me.”
“But…”
She yanked him close by his armor. “Trust me, Jeffrey!”
He lifted her by pushing up against her buttocks. She broke away any remaining shards of glass, cutting her right hand badly in the process. Then she slid through the window into blinding daylight. A freezing cold wind stung her face.
She reached back with her good hand and grabbed the edge of the window as her legs slid out. It took all her strength to hold on. She caught a glimpse of the world outside the castle and estimated that they were a good seventy or eighty feet above ground. The wind beat against her wings, and then she was outside, hanging from the edge with one hand.
Jeffrey’s head and shoulders popped out of the window. He slid out and began to fall. Alexandra swung her legs outward and caught him, and then she was falling as well.
The rushing air froze her feathers. Alexandra, who was much lighter thanks to her bones being of the hollow Acolyte variety, was not dropping as quickly as Jeffrey. She worked her body into a straight line and dove. She caught Jeffrey and held on to him, and then, with a man’s grunt, used her remaining strength to stretch out her wings. The pain was so great that she almost passed out from it.
Just hold on a bit more, for Milo and Emma…
She managed to open her wings and stretch them. The pain spread like an electric web across her back. The rushing air was no longer as strong as before, which meant the tactic had worked. Her wings were still good for something.
She saw snow-covered bushes below, the sort of teacup-shaped bushes that Corgos liked to have around his castle. She maneuvered her wings in an effort to land on one and found herself thinking that it wouldn’t work, that the whole escape attempt had been suicide from the beginning.
Reality became a mess of color and noise and wind. She heard the alarm wailing inside the castle, though not as loud as before. The ground rose up to meet them. A silent prayer went through her mind, only the first few words: Gods grant me the strength…
She crashed, wings first, into the bush. Jeffrey slammed against her with the weight of a sack of rocks. His forehead banged into her collarbone, shattering it. Several of her ribs were crushed instantly.
When she opened her eyes, Jeffrey was looking at her.
They were outside, and it was much quieter now. A peaceful feeling came over her. The pain was terrible, but it was a distant thing, like an oncoming train. It frightened her, but at least she was still alive, still aware of what was coming to swallow her up. It had come to an end, finally. She would die, but at least she wouldn’t die inside that wretched castle. She would die out here, in view of everyone, and then maybe they would see what the emperor’s wickedness had caused.
“Zandra,” Jeffrey said, using a bloody, trembling hand to brush hair off her face. His boyish eyes were clear and beautiful.
“Je-Jeff…” She sputtered as blood caught in her throat.
She looked down and saw blood on his armor. Then she saw the tiny button of metal, ringed with blood, right above his heart. The bolt had gone through his armor and stuck there. He’d been wounded by the crossbow after all.
“You—your wound.”
“It’s OK,” he said.
He was looking at her the way a husband looks at his wife. He reminded her so much of Max that tears sprang to her eyes and she began to cry. She wanted Jeffrey to hold her and rock her to sleep, to that eternal sleep where maybe—if the legends were true—she and her husband would be reunited.
“Take my life force,” Jeffrey said. “Zandra, listen. I won’t live, but you can.”
“I won’t.”
“Do it. For Milo and Emma. They need their mother.”
Hearing him speak the names of her children roused something inside her chest.
“You’re an Acolyte demigod,” Jeffrey said, tears cupping his eyes. “You can use my life force to heal. I’m offering it to you so—so it won’t be blood ether. It won’t be bad.”
“But I swore I’d…”
Her vision began to dim. She was losing it.
“Zandra, do it. Be quick about it. Do it now!”
She saw the wound in his chest and the blood leaking out of it. Both of his legs had been broken by the fall. She imagined the pain that must have been shooting through him and marveled at the fact that he could still speak.
“Do it for me,” Jeffrey said. “I helped you escape, and now this is what I want in return.”
“You’ll die.”
“I’ll die, anyway. This way it’ll be a good death—an honorable one.”
He lowered his head and kissed her lips. She could taste blood—his or hers, she couldn’t tell.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too.”
He smiled. “I’m ready.”
Before Jeffrey could pull away, Alexandra reached up and put her hands around the back of his neck. His hair was damp and she could smell soap and musk, smells that again reminded her of her husband. Max would want this. He would want her to take Jeffrey’s offer, to use this man’s life to save her own. He would have accepted this repulsive act of feeding off someone else’s stream of life energy.
Jeffrey looked into her eyes the entire time, that sappy look of a man in love. Magic burned between them. Her hands grew bright and threw out blue rays. The light shot through both of them, connecting her and Jeffrey in a way more intimate than any sort of joining between a man and a woman could ever be.
Then, when their life forces had become one single string of energy (she pictured it bright blue, like a ray of lightning but smooth, strung between their chests), she drew it back into her own body and let it spread through her arms and legs and wings. A whirlwind of air shot currents of snow away from them, and made her hair whip around her in auburn wisps.
Her wings trembled as the bones rearranged themselves. Every injury in her body healed, and it was the most pleasant feeling in the world.
She would live.
“Thank you,” she said, gazing at Jeffrey, her savior. The man was little more than skin and bone now, a trembling shell of a man. He blinked at her.
“An honor,” he said with his dying gasp.
The wind died down, and Alexandra could hear people gasping. She examined her surroundings from where she lay.
A group of onlookers—mostly castle servants, deliverymen, and soldiers—had gathered around the section of wall in front of which she and Jeffrey had landed. They all had tears in their eyes. Many were openly weeping. They were looking at her face.
She kissed Jeffrey’s forehead and pushed herself up.
Heads tilted back to watch her rise, fully healed and beautiful, into the early morning air. There was blood on her simple white nightgown, on her chest and shoulders and all over her face. Her eyes peered at them from amidst all that blood. Her hair, as brown as leather, formed a severe contrast against the red and white of her bloodied wings.
“Hear me,” she said. Her voice was deep. She didn’t blink once. “King Corgos has underestimated his enemies. My name is Zandra Banks, daughter of Aliara, Champion of the Breeze, and I am here to tell you that the day will come, sooner than you think, when the lands of Taradyn shall once more be free!”
Her wings opened to their fullest and proudest length
. They cast a shadow upon the ground and over the hearts of those who watched.
“Heed my words,” she said, “for we are at war.”
With a burst of wind that pushed hair back on the foreheads of those watching her, she leaped up with a violent thrust of her wings and was soon coursing through the air like a missile. Her wings flapped and flapped, carrying her into the cloudless sky.
She gulped down air that tasted clear, like water from a mountain stream, and realized, with tears blurring her vision, that the air one breathes when free is the sweetest of its kind.
Chapter 49
After two hours of skating on the pond, Coral called the orphans inside for hot cocoa. Emma didn’t see her brother, though she figured this was normal. He had probably gone upstairs to study.
She climbed the stairs to her room to change out of her damp clothes and stopped at her window, which allowed a full view of the snow-covered field behind the ranch. The sun was out in full force and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. There were two figures in the field, and she had to squint to the see them against the whiteness.
Sevarin stood ankle-deep in the snow, watching Vastanon prance around. The boy was too far away for Emma to make out his face, but she sensed something strange going on. She studied his motions and saw that Sevarin was speaking to the levathon—not just saying commands or “thattaboys” but actually speaking, as if to another person. Emma wished she could hear what he was saying.
The glare made her eyes hurt. She was about to pull away when Vastanon turned and galloped across the field, so white she could barely see him against the snow. His wings opened like blades, a sight that made her chest swell with emotion.
Then Vastanon leaped and took off, curving to his left in a wide circle. As he rose through the air, Emma could see how he had tucked his front and back legs against his underside, and how his body left a trail of luminether mist that sparkled in the light.
He changed course and flew toward Sevarin, who steadied himself before the creature’s approach. Then Sevarin did something that drew the breath out of her lungs. He jumped, flipped, and landed on the creature’s back, just as it was swooping under him.
Savant (The Luminether Series) Page 28