Wings of Lomay

by Walls, Devri

Drustan caught sight of Alcander and Emane in the back and waved them forward. “Let’s say you’re surrounded. If I have Emane on one side and Alcander on the other . . .” He positioned them where he wanted, eyeing Emane as he walked by.

  “You are all armored up,” Drustan muttered as he passed. Emane motioned for him to continue with his demonstration.

  “In this situation, you can try to fight your way out using traditional means, which,” Drustan stopped to look down at the Shifter in the front who had argued with him in the beginning, “your odds of survival are not good.” He pointed over to Emane. “He is very good with that bow. Now, myself, I prefer to adjust to the situation . . .” Drustan shifted his arms into long, snaky appendages with stingers on the ends. They whipped across the room toward Emane and Alcander, the stingers stopping just above both their hearts. “. . . and take them both out with minimal risk to my own life.”

  Some of the Shifters looked excited, their eyes ablaze with possibilities. Others whispered to one another with smiles on their faces, gesturing out different ideas for adding features to their shifts. A few, like the Shifter in the front row, sat with their arms crossed, still uncomfortable about parting with the beliefs of their fathers.

  Alcander walked over and put his hand on Drustan’s shoulder, whispering in his ear.

  Drustan nodded. “Erina, will you please take it from here?”

  Erina made her way to the front of the room while Drustan followed them out.

  Once out of the training room, Alcander said, “We are going to Tavea.”

  Drustan jerked to a sudden stop. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Most likely,” Emane said. “But I don’t think pointing that out is going to change it.”

  Drustan shook his head with a snort of disbelief. “When?”

  “Now,” Alcander said.

  “We’re just going to leave the rebels here?” Drustan asked. “I thought we were supposed to be getting ready for a war.”

  “We are. But Erina is more than capable of working with the Shifters. You are not trying to teach them a new skill set—just a new philosophy. The rebel captains have been informed and will continue to prepare the others,” Alcander said.

  “Who else are we taking?” Drustan asked.

  “Just us,” Alcander said.

  Drustan’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. “What?” he finally spat.

  “This is not an attack. We need to get in and out without being spotted.”

  “Yes, just us and a herd of flying foxes,” Emane said. “Should be very subtle.”

  Drustan looked back and forth between Emane and Alcander. “This is insane.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  Alcander fixed Drustan with his steely blue stare.

  “Fine,” Drustan said curtly. “What do you need?”

  “Something deadly and fast,” Alcander said as he walked toward one of the tunnels. “We are taking the far-east exit.”

  “Of course we are,” Drustan said, strolling behind. “Why wouldn’t we take the heaviest-guarded exit? We are already heading off to our deaths—might as well start it off right.”

  “Inappropriate humor, Drustan,” Emane said.

  “Yes, certain death brings it out in me. You should know that by now.”

  “We are not going to die,” Alcander said dryly.

  They hadn’t reached the mouth yet when a tremendous boom rocked the city. Emane whirled as the chandelier began swinging. The ground shook beneath their feet. “What was that?” he asked, his eyes darted around. The rebels poured out of the training rooms in alarm.

  Another boom came, same as the first. This time, Emane noticed the barrier above them rippling. The massive chandelier hanging from it swung back and forth in a high arc. “Look!” He pointed.

  Alcander stepped forward, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion and concern.

  “Any idea what that was?” Drustan asked.

  Alcander summoned his staff and pointed it toward the barrier. He whispered an incantation under his breath. The barrier that Lomay had darkened returned to its previously clear state. The water in the lake was frothing and swirling as if something large had disturbed it.

  Alcander strode toward the center of the city, his eyes fixed on the lake. Emane had almost caught up to him when the water began to glow. A ball of fire within a glittering white sphere rushed toward them.

  The ball slammed into the barrier and flame licked out across the bottom. The rebels screamed, running and ducking. The chandelier swung so severely, Emane was worried it would snap and come crashing down on the rebels.

  “That looks like Dragon fire,” Drustan said. “How are they getting it to the bottom of the lake?”

  “They are wrapping it in magic,” Emane said, looking at Alcander. “Aren’t they?”

  “It looks like it.”

  “If Jasmine can’t get through, what makes them think that’s going to work?” Drustan asked.

  “I have no idea,” Alcander said. “Come on. Let’s give them something else to target.” Turning, he jogged back toward the tunnels. Near the end, he opened a door to one of the rooms that ran along the sides.

  There was a female Tavean inside who looked up in surprise before bowing her head. “Your Majesty, is everything all right?” Her eyes widened as another fireball impacted and the walls of her room rattled.

  “Cyria, I need your help. We need to open this entrance, and I need you to close it behind us.”

  “Of course, my king.”

  The three stood back while Alcander used his magic to slide the door open. He scanned the area. “The army is too far away. We have to bring them in closer.”

  Drustan stepped forward. “Far away is good—why are we bringing them closer?”

  “I can’t keep us bubbled long enough to get us past this army and out of range—they are too spread out.”

  Drustan gave Emane a withering look over his shoulder. “I miss Kiora.”

  It took a moment before the army outside noticed the sheeting magic and pounded toward them. The first two, a Tavean and a Shifter, hit the barrier as more of the enemy attempted to push in behind them. The magic turned red and melted away the first intruders. Three more were pushed in—they started to melt.

  Alcander stood very still, watching the army.

  “What are we waiting for?” Emane asked.

  Four of the enemy lunged forward into the magic. With the army still pushing behind them and so many crowding, a Tavean’s head and shoulders emerged through the barrier before the magic turned red. Emane stepped back, his hand going for his sword as the Tavean grinned through a sheet of black hair. The magic flared red, melting the other three as well as the bottom half of the grinning Tavean. His screams echoed around them, then abruptly cut off. The Tavean’s head and shoulders fell into the hallway.

  Cyria stepped back, looking at the severed head in horror.

  “That’s what I was afraid off,” Alcander said, swearing softly. “It can only handle so many. Push hard enough and someone is bound to get through.”

  “That’s why Nestor added the additional barrier to the center of the city,” Emane said.

  “True, but they can kill a lot of rebels before they reach the center,” Drustan said as another four of the enemy fell into the magic. This time the arm of one and the leg of another pushed through before the rest of their bodies melted away.

  “Let’s go,” Alcander said.

  Drustan shifted into a long, thin Dragon with a body meant for maneuvering and wings built for acrobatics. Emane climbed on as Alcander shot a disk of white magic from his staff. It rolled forward, growing as it went and emitting a crackling sound. It exploded through the barrier, taking the enemy that was directly in front of the door and pushing them backwards.

  Turning around, Alcander leaped onto Drustan. “I said deadly!” he yelled as Drustan galloped toward the barrier, his wings flaring out in preparation for takeoff.

  “I
heard you the first time, and the second!” Drustan yelled back as he burst out.

  The ranks that had taken Alcander’s blast scrambled back to their feet to prevent themselves from being trampled by those filtering up.

  Drustan flew straight, loosing a fireball that rolled forward like a flaming boulder. It was large enough that it forced the enemy to either contend with it or get out of the way. There were shouts as most dove to the sides or threw shields. One Tavean stood firm, putting up his hands in an attempt to control the fire. He overestimated his abilities and was engulfed by the inferno.

  Drustan angled up, taking to the sky. He rained fireballs down on the right while Alcander sent down bursts of magic on the left, forcing the enemy to maintain their shields.

  Emane pulled the bow off his back, nocking an arrow, but Alcander turned to him and shook his head. “We might need those arrows later and I can’t waste the magic to summon them back for you.”

  Despite the surprise attack, there were simply too many of the enemy guarding this exit, and Alcander and Drustan couldn’t occupy them all. Magical attacks whizzed upwards. Drustan weaved to avoid them.

  A long, thin bolt of magic unlike anything Emane had ever seen flew straight at them—green in the middle and wrapped with a strip of red magic that sparked and flashed.

  Alcander shielded.

  It impacted, and Alcander’s shield cracked and then vanished. His eyes widened, searching for the source of the attack. Below them, two Taveans were combining magic to achieve the potent bolt.

  “Get us out of here, Drustan. Now!”

  Drustan pushed higher until they were clear of the ground attacks. “Now would be good time for that bubble, Alcander,” he said. “We have Shifter-Dragons coming.”

  Alcander threw his bubble and Drustan flipped, now flying straight toward the Shifter-Dragon.

  “What are we doing?” Emane asked Drustan, struggling to keep his voice even.

  “Cutting the distance. Just trust me.”

  There were six impressive Dragons charging at them. The Dragons had spread themselves out in a straight line, covering enough space that it would be impossible to escape the swath of fire they would spread across the sky. Suddenly Drustan veered to the side, heading toward Tavea.

  “Watch,” Drustan said smugly.

  Emane and Alcander both turned. It wasn’t but five wing beats later when the Dragons let loose, lighting up the sky. Fire rippled out over a hundred feet ahead of them—seeming to expand as it traveled, rather than dissipating.

  Emane gulped. The likelihood of being engulfed, had they tried to outrun the Dragons, was high.

  “I have never seen Dragons with a range like that,” Alcander said.

  “That’s because it’s been too long since any of you have fought with Shifters—or Dragons. If you have enough Dragons and you fire in rapid succession, each one’s fire pushes the one before it further out with minimal effort. If done quickly enough, the result is that.”

  “How did you know that’s what they were going to do?” Alcander asked.

  “I have repeatedly tried to explain that I am rather intelligent. I also happen to be an excellent, and experienced, strategist.” Drustan twisted his head to look at Alcander. If Dragons could smirk, this one did. “How long do we have?” he asked, referring to the bubble surrounding them.

  “Not long enough.”

  ***

  ARTURO LANDED, AND KIORA slid off his back. She put her hands on her hips and looked around the barren landscape. The island was miles of black rock. Flat black rock, bumpy and broken black rock—mountains of black rock. The only thing that broke the monotony was the occasional scraggily green bush that poked up through the cracks—clinging survivors in a harsh and unforgiving environment.

  She reached out for threads. There were none, with the exception of a minute population of insect life. Kiora rolled her shoulder, trying to ease the constant aching—all it did was add a sharp jolt of pain.

  We could take you back to the city, Arturo reminded her for the third time.

  “I have to do this, Arturo. I have to learn to let go.” She looked away. “And I have to find out how to access the magic the queen is referring to.”

  How high up do I need to be?

  She looked over to him, trying not to let her unease show on her face. “I have no idea.”

  Just let it loose. Find joy in your abilities. The rest will come. Arturo moved to the safety of the sky, rising, the sun glinting off his iridescent feathers.

  Turning around, she took a deep breath. “Let’s see what I can do.”

  ***

  ALCANDER DROPPED THE BUBBLE, leaving himself just enough magic in case of an emergency.

  The three of them flew over empty fields and old abandoned villages from before the days of the Shadow. “Drustan, take us down for a little while.”

  “What’s wrong?” Emane asked.

  “I need to build my magic back up before we head into Tavea,” he said as Drustan landed. “I can’t go in like this.”

  “Are we just going to wait out here in the open?” Drustan asked.

  Alcander slid off Drustan’s back and held up his staff. “I am hoping this will help.”

  “Oh, good.” Drustan plopped down on his belly. “I love it when he hopes.”

  Alcander touched the staff to the tree and pulled off the glittering waves of light that preceded an enclosure.

  Drustan’s head perked up. “I didn’t know it could do that.”

  “The staff does what it can to protect to the king.”

  Drustan was already snoring before the barrier snapped into place.

  Emane leaned against a tree and slid down, pulling a dagger from his belt. He held it by the blade near his cheek, took aim, snapped his wrist, and threw it across the enclosure. It stuck firmly into a trunk. Holding out his hand, he called the blade back to him. It wiggled against the bark and then flew across the clearing—hilt first. “That never gets old,” Emane said, grinning as he waved the dagger at Alcander. “It’s not summoning, but it will have to do.”

  Alcander grunted something unintelligible. He dropped to the ground and threw one arm over his knee.

  Emane glanced at him sideways. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Sure,” Emane said sarcastically as he threw the dagger again—sinking it into the tree. “Are you worried about heading into Tavea, or about Kiora?” Emane called the blade back, jabbing it in Alcander’s direction. “And don’t tell me you don’t worry, because I will call you a liar.”

  Alcander quirked an eyebrow. “Fine. Both.”

  “Me too.”

  Alcander leaned back, peering down his nose at Emane. “Really? You seem to have shut things off.”

  Emane snorted. “That’s me—no emotions.”

  Alcander watched Emane continue to throw the dagger and call it back. Each throw was stronger, sinking deeper into the bark. He shifted awkwardly before clearing his throat. “I didn’t realize you had seen the picture in the library—of Kiora and me.”

  Emane pursed his lips with a bitter nod. “That was a not a good day,” he said as the blade thunked into the tree.

  “You never told me.”

  “Why would I? Not much to say.”

  Drustan didn’t usually snore, but today his Dragon lips vibrated off each other in the most annoying sequence. Alcander leaned over and poked him with the edge of his staff. Drustan grunted and turned his head to the other side. Mercifully, the snoring stopped.

  “Is that why you stopped fighting for her?” Alcander asked.

  Emane stilled, his arm pulled back for another throw, his eyes haunted. Swallowing, he threw the knife again. “No.”

  “Then why?”

  “Now who’s talking about feelings as if they are on the menu?”

  Alcander’s mouth curled up on one side. “Very clever.”

  “I try.” Pushing to his feet, Emane walked over to the dagger and jerked it out of th
e trunk. “I’m going to get some rest while I can.” He tucked the dagger in its sheath, stretched out on his back, laced his fingers behind his head, and closed his eyes.

  ***

  AS KIORA PULLED THE wall of water up from the ocean, she felt the euphoric rush of unrestrained magic running through her body. It ripped through her like a drug, her eyes nearly rolling back in her head. She pulled more and more—pushing her magic to its limits.

  Swirling water towered over her, stretching high enough to block the sun. An ominous shadow covered most the island. A giggle worked its way up, escaping before she could stop it. Disgusted with herself and her unnaturally gleeful enjoyment of this magically induced rush, she thrust both her hands out, splitting the wall of water into two separate pieces, one on her right, and one on the left. Jerking the waves forward, she released them, sending water tearing over the rocks on either side of her.

  What’s wrong?

  I’m no closer to tapping into nature’s magic than I was when I started. Kiora shuddered, trying to push through the lingering waves of pleasure. And it feels too good. I . . . I don’t like it.

  What is so wrong with that?

  It shouldn’t feel good, she snapped.

  Why not?

  Because! I am preparing to use it for destruction—complete destruction! I should not enjoy it.