“We can't deny that it’s true, though,” Angelica piped up. “Jovian was attacked by a black shuck, and they haven't been seen since Arael was alive last. The Well of Wyrding was corrupted again, the cities are being attacked by malignant wyrd — not just caustics, this I can attest to myself, since we fought one in the Spire of Night.”
“And Aladestra reporting the losses with her verax-acis,” Sara said. “Though why they haven’t attacked yet is beyond me. I can’t imagine trying to keep that many of those monsters under control.”
“Unless Arael is behind it,” Grace said.
“And not to mention we fought a grigori who called himself Samazahd at the plantation,” Jovian said.
“You did what?” Annbell asked, suddenly alert once more. “How did you survive?”
Jovian motioned to his face, and the scar that crossed it. “We nearly didn’t.”
“Astanel was there,” Joya said. “He did something to him, some kind of black lightning that Caldamron and Shelara told us sent the grigori beyond the Black Gate.”
“Alarist power,” Mag whispered, her eyes distant, seeing a time past. “It’s called darklight.”
“Is that something all alarists are able to do?” Angelica asked.
Mag nodded.
“But there’s more than all that,” Jovian said. Everyone turned to him, and he looked conflicted about whether he wanted to say anything or not. Maeven put a comforting hand on the younger man’s back, concern knitting his eyebrows together. “I’ve had dreams recently.”
He didn’t need to say anything more. As soon as Joya heard the mention of dreams, gooseflesh prickled its way up her arms and across her scalp. She knew what he was about to say — the turquoise monument and its transformational light. She closed her eyes and shuddered.
“So have I,” Angelica agreed.
The door bumped closed behind Shelara and Caldamron. They went back to stand behind Joya, who was too interested in the conversation at hand to pay more than passing attention to the dark elf’s blue hand upon her shoulder, telling her the communication was done.
Joya shook her head. Of course both of them would have the same dream, she thought.
“The Turquoise Tower,” Jovian said. “We’ve seen it in our shared dreams, rising in the west, armies of half-breed angels, standing against one another. A legion of black-winged angels poised across an expanse against a host of white-winged angels.”
“And us in the center,” Angelica said, barely above a whisper.
Joya’s eyes focused on Cianna, who was staring straight back at her.
“You’ve been dreaming of the Turquoise Tower?” Sara asked them. Angelica and Jovian nodded. “Then I assume Joya and Cianna have felt the pull too?” She looked to Joya, who nodded.
“Yes,” Cianna spoke, her voice cracked.
“All beings with angelic blood are being called to witness what’s coming at the Turquoise Tower,” Rosalee said, her voice vacant. When Joya looked up at her, the red head was looking to a point far west. She wasn’t sure Rosalee was even present in her own mind. Joya shivered.
“Rose?” Grace asked, patting the black-clad knee of her friend beside her.
Rosalee snapped back to herself, itched the back of her head, embarrassed, and motioned toward Sara. “I’m sorry, please continue.”
“Does she do that often?” Annbell asked Grace, to which the old lady nodded, a small smile ghosting her lips.
“How many did you see in the dream?” Sara asked Angelica and Jovian.
“Hundreds of half-breeds at least, thousands maybe?” Jovian supplied.
“All at the tower?” Annbell asked.
“Yes, all getting their wings,” Angelica said.
“What does it mean, though?” Rosalee asked.
“Oh, for Goddess’ sake, Rose!” Grace trumpeted, tossing her hands heavenwards.
“It means war is coming,” Sara said.
“Just like last time. He was seeking the Turquoise Tower,” Grace said.
“Yes, and it was said he had found where it was before Sylvie killed him,” Dalah said.
“And now, if he’s back,” Cianna said. “Then he knows where it is.”
“And all of these attacks are happening to keep us diverted from the actual threat,” Maeven said.
“The rising evil in the west is a portent of war,” Annbell said. “He will sweep over the land and lay waste to it.”
“If this is all truly happening,” Shelara said. “We have nothing to really go on, right?”
“Just a dream?” Caldamron said.
“You were out,” Joya whispered. “There’s much more than a dream pointing to this conclusion.”
“But the dream’s enough!” Cianna said incredulously, drawing all attention to her. “Angelica, Jovian, and Joya are anakim.”
Shelara blinked at Cianna, not understanding the significance.
“It means they have the gift of foresight,” Maeven explained. “They’re able to see things before they happen, most often in dreams,” Maeven said.
Shelara looked to her Realm Guardian.
“I don’t seem to have the same power,” she said. “But even I’ve dreamed of the tower.”
“Because you’re an angel,” Grace said. “At least in part.”
“And what does this tower do?” Shelara asked.
“If one goes there who is of angelic blood, it restores their wings, granting them their angelic status once more. For half-bloods it burns out all humanity in them,” Grace said.
“That’s it?” Caldamron said. “He would just get his wings?”
“That’s not all of it,” Sara said. “The grigori and the other fallen, or the half-breeds here in the Great Realms, once their wings are restored, are granted access to the Ever After once again.”
Angelica hissed a gasp of air through her teeth.
“That means. . .” Joya said.
“Yes. Arael would have access to the Ever After, and the Goddess.”
“Not just a war in the realm of man, but one in the Ever After as well,” Dalah whispered.
“Dear Goddess,” Maeven breathed. “What do we do?”
Sara massaged the bridge of her nose. “We can’t simply ignore the coming war.”
“But I don’t know how long Angelica and I will be able to resist the call of the tower,” Jovian said. “It calls out to our blood. At first it was just in the dreams, but now it calls out to us even when awake. We need to go to it.”
Joya was shaking her head. “We can’t.”
“Why not?” Angelica asked. “What are we supposed to do? As angels, shouldn’t we be fighting for our side?”
“What about Amber?” Joya asked. “We can’t forget her. That was our original mission.”
“I’m beginning to think your original mission for Amber and this rising darkness are linked,” Grace told Joya. “This entire thing has been escalating since she was taken. We thought maybe Porillon was somehow going to use the medallion for something, but all she did was jump into the well and corrupt it. That caused the uproar, and since that has been cleansed, has anyone seen her?”
“Just in that tree village,” Angelica said.
“Greenwood,” Sara nodded.
“Right, and where has she been since?” Grace asked. “Isn’t it strange that she just vanished, when before she was so much part of our journey in finding Amber?”
Joya shook her head. What was happening to her family? It was more than she could bear.
“But I can’t just leave,” she whispered, near tears. “I have to stay with my people. At least through the war.”
“There may come a time when the pull is too strong to resist,” Cianna told her.
“What are we going to do?” Flora asked, mirroring Maeven’s sentiments.
“Face one issue at a time. For now, we all know what’s coming, and we had best prepare for it. The chaos dwarves could attack at any moment; it’s time that we get ready. Joya, please do wh
at you can to bring an army here. Mag will get our army ready. Maeven, I need you to help her while I check on the situation in the highlands, making sure the giants are doing okay against the troll forces up there. If I’m able to, I’ll escort them down here. Flora, please get your students to Root Commander Krouner to join in the wyrding effort. Grace, Rose, and Dalah, would you please help out in the infirmary? Angelica and Jovian, just stand by and be ready to go where you’re needed at any given time.” Annbell looked around the room. “At this point, you’re all part of our war council. What does that mean? I’ve no idea, since we’ve never had to fight one, but if you have any ideas, please bring them to us.”
“Any further questions or thoughts?” Sara asked.
No one said anything, just stood and filed out as if they were mourners at a funeral.
As Joya was following everyone out, making plans for the green gem given to her to communicate with the Shadow Realm in times of need, which she had secreted away in her travel packs, she overheard the frement speaking with Sara.
"Those stairs of yours are treacherous, milady," Caldamron told Sara. "If you would give me a small team of engineers and laborers, we could install a lift for you, like Guardian Joya has in her spire."
Sara smiled at the offer. "That would be most welcome. Goddess only knows when I’ll be out of this chair, and I would so love to leave my room and office at some point."
"It would be my pleasure," Caldamron said, bowing himself out.
“Guardian Joya,” Shelara said, her blue skin blushing with splotches of green at a rapid pace, indicating her high excitement. “I’ve reached out to the other ooslebed through the shadows of a great oak tree. They are assembling, and await your orders. They are mounted on the heckling and armed with bows.”
“Perfect,” Joya said.
“And mine await with their machinery, though I’m not sure how much you wish them to bring,” Caldamron stated, joining the two of them as they started their descent down the stairs.
“As much machinery as they can. The louder the better. Fear might be our greatest weapon in this war.”
Flora shrugged her shoulders, straightening her green robes before pushing into the common room of the suite she shared with her students. Pi was in the midst of lobbing a pillow at Devenstar, which caught him square in the face in the middle of what looked to be a long-winded lecture or tall tale.
“You know none of that happened!” Pi said, collapsing onto the sofa in gales of laughter.
“I’m certain it did!” Devenstar said, flattening his ruffled blond hair after the attack. “You were horrible in the fire classes, always blowing something up.”
Flora cleared her throat to hide a chuckle.
“Ah, here’s our stately crone now. Maybe she can shed some light on this,” Devenstar said. Hugging the pillow to his midsection, he sat down.
“No comment,” Flora said, holding her hands up in surrender.
“See!” Devenstar said. “She agrees.”
“That’s nonsense!” Pi said, readying another pillow for an attack.
“I would like your attention,” Flora said. Instantly Pi, Devenstar, and Chy, who had been sitting in a corner laughing silently so as not to attract attention and attacks to himself, all sat straighter and tried to school their mirthful faces into attention. Flora hated this part of the conversation. It was good to see her students finally getting back to what they were before the attack on the school. How long had worry about their home, the well, and now Clara, marred the surface of their happiness? She shook her head.
“As you guys understand, we’ve come to the keep at a rather bad time for us, and at a rather good time for the Guardians.” Flora sat down on another sofa. A ceramic tea pot, decorated with a scene of rolling highlands with a wistful-giant looking out at the plains below, sat on the coffee table. She felt the side, noting it was still warm, and poured herself a cup. A thin trail of steam circled the rim of her cup. “The chaos dwarves make ready an attack, and the Realm Guardians feel that we humans are outnumbered. They need all the help they can get, and we are three able-bodied sorcerers.”
Devenstar nodded, and Pi looked worriedly at her brother, Chy, sitting in the corner studying his feet. Flora followed her gaze to the black-haired boy.
“Don’t worry about Chy,” Flora said, resting a hand on Pi’s knee. “They wouldn’t use him anyway; he hasn’t even started working with wyrd yet, and is years from his training.”
Pi seemed to relax. “What about Clara?”
“She’s still out of it,” Flora said, taking a sip of her tea.
“What do you think, Pi, they’re going to strap her to a post on top the wall and let the dwarves use her for target practice?” Devenstar said, tossing the pillow-turned-weapon back at Pi. It bounced off her face, hitting the tea pot, which slid across the table and would have shattered on the floor if it hadn’t been for Flora’s reflexes.
“Whoops,” Pi said.
“Your face isn’t that great at catching things,” Devenstar noted.
“But your ass is going to do a good job of catching my boot if you don’t calm down,” Flora said.
Devenstar cleared his throat.
“It is good to see you guys relaxing again,” Flora said. “But we have miles to go before we’re done. It seems we’re being wrapped up in events as they unfold, and with our academy out of sorts, we might as well lend our aid until we can get back to our home.”
“When will that be?” Pi asked.
Flora shrugged, taking another sip of her jasmine tea. She wondered whether to tell them about the Turquoise Tower or not, or the dreams of the angelic battle to come. She settled on honesty. If she was asking these two to give themselves to the war effort, at least she could be upfront with them.
So she told them everything she knew. She reinforced, in case they’d forgotten, that Cianna was the daughter of Pharoh and Arael. It was easy to forget a person’s lineage once you knew them better. Flora also told them that Angelica, Jovian, and Joya were the children of Sylvie LaFaye. She informed them of the dream of the Turquoise Tower, and the fear that another angelic war could be on them.
“But this time,” Flora said, “Arael isn’t looking for the tower, he’s already found it.”
Her students sat in silence for a time. Devenstar cleared his throat. They all looked to him.
“So it’s happening again?” he asked.
Flora nodded her head.
“Just like Azra predicted: the shadow in the west,” Pi said.
“It appears so,” Flora said.
“Who told you this?” Devenstar wondered.
“The LaFaye offspring have been having dreams of the tower, calling out to their angelic blood. It’s said that’s how it happens: the tower is activated, and all creatures with angelic blood are called there to have their humanity burned out and regain their wings, their path to the Ever After.”
“So a war in the Ever After?” Devenstar said. It was hard for him to keep the hard edge of panic from his voice.
“Not yet, but I’m sure it’s on Arael’s agenda.”
“What are we supposed to do against them?” Pi asked. “The angels, I mean.”
Flora shrugged. “Last time Arael hadn’t found the tower, so he didn’t have an angelic army with him. This time it’s different. I feel that the LaFaye offspring will go to meet him after this is all done.”
“And what about us?” Pi asked.
“I’m sure there will be plenty for us to do. The angels won’t just sit around waiting for people to come to them.” Flora took a drink of her tea, trying to appear calm, though her insides felt like they were dancing a jig.
“So that means Cianna will go?” Devenstar asked. His eyes lost some of the mirth Flora had walked in on.
“I honestly don’t know, Deven.”
“Right,” was all he said.
Chy crossed the floor to his sister, sat beside her, and let her wrap her arms around him protectively. S
he turned her eyes to her teacher. She wouldn’t say she was afraid, not when Chy was with her, but Flora read all too clearly in Pi’s eyes that she was terrified.
Me too, Pi, me too.
“So what do we do?” Devenstar asked.
“I’m sure you can remain here in the suite to sleep, but I would report to the wyrding root. They have a commander named Krouner, he will instruct you further.”
“And you?” Pi asked. It wasn’t that she wondered if Flora was going to help; it was evident in her voice that she didn’t want to be far from Flora’s side.
“I’ll be helping Dalah, Grace, and Rosalee in the infirmary.”
“Joya,” Cianna said, catching up to her cousin as they all filed out of Sara’s office. “I was wondering, by chance, if you still had the medallion.”
Joya and Cianna started walking down the stairs, Shelara and Caldamron close behind. A look of confusion came over her shorter cousin’s face.
“You mean, Aunt Pharoh’s medallion?” Joya asked, casting a sidelong look at Cianna.
“Yes,” Cianna said with a nod, her heeled boots making a heavy clunk on the stairs.
“Yes, why wouldn’t I?” Joya asked. “It’s not like I tossed it out now that we aren’t using it.”
She smiled, and Cianna smiled back, some of the worry of how well she would get along with Joya fading. Cianna had known she would get along with Angelica and Jovian. She knew from the moment she saw them that there was something of her aunt still lingering inside of them, and she knew for that reason alone that they would get along, because she felt the swell of love issuing forth from them through Sylvie’s memories. But Joya was something else completely. She was her own person, and she was made up of her own thoughts and memories, with no interference from the lingering wyrd of another person.
“I was wondering if I might have a moment with it?” Cianna asked.
Joya’s face suddenly melted into a look of understanding, and then sadness. She stopped on the stairs, forcing Cianna to stop with her. The other people parted around them and continued on their way.
On Wings of Chaos (Revenant Wyrd Book 5) Page 7