by Devri Walls
Kiora rolled over and over. She dug her elbows into the sand to stop herself. She jumped up to see Emane and Alcander suspended in the air within a bubble of magic.
Kiora reached out, ready to call nature back to her. There was no other choice.
“Stop!” Jasmine yelled. “I will kill them both.”
Kiora’s hand wavered.
“You love them, don’t you?” Jasmine said. Her head turned from one side to the other, looking like a curious cat examining a mouse.
“Leave them alone! I have tapped into nature, Jasmine. I can do it again.”
Jasmine smirked. “I don’t believe you.” She looked to the skies. Kiora followed her gaze. The enemy’s numbers had already diminished significantly. Emane had been right. Without magic, the enemy was helpless against the properly trained rebels. And with the Dragons to neutralize the Shifters’ threat, the numbers were no longer in the enemy’s favor.
The scene was horrific—bodies were piled everywhere. Dirt, sand, and water were all tinged red. The rebels themselves were sprayed with blood and sweat and seawater, their faces and clothes speckled. The rebel Winged people’s wings were more pink than white as they flew through the skies, brandishing swords and wielding vengeance on those of their kind whose threads were dark.
“I told my father I would destroy everything he loved more than me,” Jasmine said with a look of serene satisfaction on her face. “And I have.”
“You have the Lights. You have your immortality back,” Kiora said. She reached out to find nature, but to her confusion, she found nothing. “You don’t have to do this.”
Jasmine tilted her chin up, her smile superior. “I know. I want to.”
Kiora’s fists clenched at her sides. Rage rang in her ears and burned in her stomach, not only at Jasmine, but at nature—when she needed it most, it would not be found. “What do you want from me?” she asked.
“Nestor’s exception.” She chortled. “The show of magic and cold-heartedness you displayed at the cliffs was quite magnificent. Today, you and your rebels held your own better than I could have hoped for. And now that it is almost over, there is really only one more thing I want from you. I want you to lose everything—as I lost everything.”
In one quick movement, Jasmine jerked the bubble that held Emane and Alcander closer to her. Simultaneously, Emane’s sword rose from the sand and flew across the sky, ramming straight through Emane’s stomach. Kiora screamed.
Jasmine violently ripped the sword free.
Emane collapsed within the bubble, his hands wrapped around his middle.
Kiora took all her magic and shoved it toward Jasmine’s hand as she redirected the bloody sword toward Alcander. The sword swerved and lurched in the air as they battled for control.
The sword jerked, slicing across Alcander’s thigh.
Raw adrenaline rushed through Kiora and she finally gained control of the sword. Turning the blade, she sent it hurtling back toward Jasmine. For a moment, Kiora thought it would be over. But Jasmine regained her hold on the weapon, freezing it midflight. The tip of the sword wobbled back and forth, almost close enough to nick her nose.
Jasmine pushed the sword down, burying it in the sand at her feet. A feral growl resonated as she released the magic she had been using to hold Emane and Alcander in the air. They crashed to the sand. Then she charged at Kiora.
***
ALCANDER LANDED ON HIS shoulder and grunted in pain. He immediately rolled over and pressed his palm into the cut on his leg, trying to stem the flow of blood. Emane lay a few feet from him. His skin was sickly white, his stomach awash in dark red. There was too much blood. They needed magic. Emane’s armband was their only hope.
Alcander flopped his head back on the sand. Kiora, he thought, you have to connect the pendants. Emane is dying.
Alcander locked every facet of his mind down tightly in order to keep Kiora from knowing the true stakes. Both his wounds and Emane’s were fatal and he had seen Emane’s limits—he would have only enough magic to save his own life.
Alcander stared at the sky, blinking slowly. He was aware of the movement of Dragons flying back and forth, but was not really seeing them. Instead, he looked at the blueness of the sky, aware that he had never truly appreciated the beauty. He had never imagined that dying would be so inexplicably calm. Sad, but calm.
Watching the clouds, he pondered on how he had never imagined it ending this way. He was so busy thinking of a life beyond the nightmare, of wedding rings and children. Of happiness. He remembered the image painted on the wall of the library—of Kiora standing by his side on their wedding day. It seemed Lomay was wrong. His mouth twisted ruefully. Of all the things to be wrong about.
***
KIORA’S MAGIC WAS SO low. Alcander’s thoughts lit a spark in the little she had left. Emane is dying. She frantically assessed the situation, throwing herself out of the way of Jasmine’s latest attack to avoid wasting her magic on a shield. She needed help, and she needed it now.
She had called Drustan before and hoped he was not too engaged in the battle that was still raging behind her. Drustan, I need a fire attack on my mark.
On my way.
Kiora threw a burst of multiple balls of magic at Jasmine that whizzed around her in all directions—nothing damaging, just enough to keep her busy. She kept her eyes away from Emane and Alcander. Seeing them would only unleash the panic building within her and leave her unable to complete this task.
Drustan’s thread made its way around the island, just barely out over the water.
Kiora put up a shield as Jasmine fired shots of red magic in rapid succession. She crouched and pulled herself into a ball—concentrating what she had left into the smallest area possible, and to take Jasmine by surprise. With the ball of residual magic swirling around her, Jasmine wouldn’t be able to see anything Kiora was doing. Kiora placed one hand on the ground.
Mark! she thought to Drustan.
Drustan dropped down, letting loose a fiery attack that billowed forward in a wide swath, forcing a shield from Jasmine. Kiora jerked at the earth below Jasmine’s feet and pulled it violently upwards.
Jasmine fell onto her shoulder, still trying to hold her shield. Kiora sprinted at her. She hit the side of Jasmine’s head with tendrils of magic that grabbed her chin and whipped her face to the side. With Jasmine’s neck exposed, Kiora grabbed the cord to the talisman, wrenching it out from underneath the bodice of her dress. Kiora jammed the two pieces together.
A white light exploded from the talisman, picking up Kiora and Jasmine and throwing them in opposite directions. The sphere of light and magic continued to roll down the beach before stalling and pulling back in on itself—vanishing into nothing. All was quiet. The talisman lay on the beach. Then, it burst into hundreds of tiny pieces, shooting up and raining down across the island.
***
EMANE WAS LIGHTHEADED, CAUGHT somewhere between reality and a dream. A bright light flashed and tiny pieces of what felt like metal or rocks peppered down around him. Then he felt magic flow into his armband, pulling him back into the present. Kiora had destroyed the talisman.
He smiled softly. She had done it. Of course she had. He’d always believed she was stronger than the Shadow.
Emane‘s hands were over his stomach and coated thick with blood. He was dying, he knew that. He wasn’t surprised. But what did surprise him was that the magic had returned in time for him to save himself. He hadn’t expected that.
A wrench of pain worked its way through the shock in his body. His insides seared as if they had been bathed in acid. He arched his back, groaning. His head rolled to the side and he noticed Alcander lying next to him in a pool of his own blood.
Emane’s heart clenched as his own blood pounded in his ears—and he knew. He loved Kiora too much to let her chance at happiness slip away.
Grunting, he painfully rolled over, attempting to rise to his hands and knees—he couldn’t do it. His arms shook and he fell. Determ
ination flooded him and he wrapped one arm around his middle, using the other to painstakingly pull his body over the sand and closer to Alcander.
Alcander’s eyes focused on him through half-opened lids. “What are you waiting for?” he whispered. “Heal yourself and go help her.”
Emane swallowed, resting his head on the sand. “She doesn’t need me anymore. She needs you.”
Alcander frowned for a moment before his eyes flew open, and he struggled to push himself away from Emane. “No! I forbid you to do this.”
Emane scowled at him. “It’s my choice.”
“Damn you! You stubborn, idiotic Witow. I will never forgive you. She will never forgive you.”
“Yes, she will,” Emane said more to himself than Alcander. Pain tore through him and he grimaced. “And so will you.” He twisted to the side, throwing his arm over Alcander’s leg. He sent magic roaring through him with everything he had.
Alcander’s wound was deep, and the blood loss severe. Just as he expected it would, healing Alcander’s injuries took everything he had. Sighing, Emane collapsed.
***
JASMINE SURGED TO HER feet, seething. Kiora backed up. Jasmine flung a bolt of crackling red magic that seared Kiora’s neck and pushed her back down to the ground. Her neck burned and she tensed for the next shot that she knew was sure to come.
Jasmine stood a few feet from her, holding one of the Lights in her hand. Causally, she placed her finger over the Light and it flared, magic raced up her arm. “Now, little Solus, you are going to suffer.”
She flicked out her finger and Kiora arched backwards, screaming, as her body shook under more power than she had ever felt. Her muscles seized, pulling her hands into fists and her head back. Her jaw clenched with agonizing force. The pain stopped for only a moment before Jasmine attacked again.
***
STRENGTH FLOODED BACK THROUGH Alcander as Emane’s magic healed him.
“Emane!” Alcander yelled, scrambling backwards, trying to get out of Emane’s reach before he completely drained himself. It was too late. Emane dropped to the sand. “No! You stupid, stupid, Witow.” Alcander pulled Emane’s head into his lap. He was unresponsive. Alcander shook him. “Emane!”
Emane’s eyes fluttered open. His normal dark blue had lightened slightly—clouded. “Alcander, take care of her. She loves you.”
“She loves you too, you—”
“Don’t call me stupid again, Alcander.” Emane groaned, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
Alcander’s face pinched in agony and he looked away. Death was a way of life, his reality. But only one other time had it hurt this much. “You are . . . like a brother to me.” His voice caught and he squeezed Emane’s shoulder. “I never thought I would have a family again.”
Emane’s hand came up, gripping Alcander’s. “Promise me that you will keep her safe.” He squeezed with more strength than he should have had left. “Promise me!”
Emane’s figure blurred under strange, rare tears. “Always.”
“I never thought I would have a choice,” Emane said so softly that Alcander had to lean forward to hear him. “When I saw it, I never thought I would get a choice.”
“Saw what?” When Emane didn’t respond, Alcander squeezed his shoulder. “Saw what?”
Emane swallowed before slowly licking his lips. “It’s better this way,” he said.
He nodded as his eyes looked past Alcander, seeing something that wasn’t there. “It was my choice—tell Kiora that. And tell her I love her.”
“Hold on, Emane. Don’t you die on me.” Alcander’s mind worked frantically, trying to come up with a solution, a way to keep Emane alive until his magic returned. “Emane! I can give you magic. Kiora did it—at the battle in Tavea.” He hesitantly placed his hand over Emane’s armband, not sure how to proceed.
Emane exhaled and his body stilled as his thread ceased to be.
Alcander stopped breathing for a moment, his eyes running over Emane, unwilling to believe what he was feeling. But Kiora’s cry of anguish verified what he already knew. Alcander dropped his head, holding Emane’s body as a tear slipped down his nose, landing on Emane’s head.
***
KIORA FELT EMANE’S THREAD leave her, and it was as if part of her very soul had been lopped off. She arched back again as Jasmine continued to torture her, but the external pain lessened. She was dying inside, and not because of any outside attacks. She had lost Emane—her protector, her friend, and the man who held a portion of her heart.
Kiora. Arturo’s thoughts had been quiet from the time she dove into the water until now. Do not give up.
At first, she was angry. But his words, while simple, rang with not only his voice, but what would have been Emane’s as well. She would not lie here and die—for Emane, if nothing else. She reached within herself, looking for anything to fight back with. Her core of magic barely glimmered. It was so insignificant against the daughter of a Creator and the holder of the Lights.
The attack on her abated, and Kiora gasped for air. She pushed herself up.
Alcander fired magic from his staff at Jasmine while three rebel Shifters, still in Dragon form, launched attacks as well.
Kiora tried not to look, but as she stood, she caught sight of Emane’s body lying on the beach. Grief nearly stopped her in her path. She took a step forward, but something clicked inside her—like the turning of a key, and it hurt. The pain increased and Kiora doubled over. It felt like her body was being stretched from the inside out.
She forced herself to stand straight. She would not bow to Jasmine, and she would not bow to this. Not to the pain, the grief, or the fiery expansion of what felt like every vein in her body. The sky above began to turn a deep purple while clouds formed, spinning overhead and darkening the entire island. Suddenly she recognized what was happening. Nature. It was changing her again, just like Meros.
It’s time, Kiora. Arturo thought. The magic is ready for you, and you are ready for it.
Alcander, she thought slowly, articulating her thoughts though the pain. Get the rebels to the other side of the island. Drustan, get your Shifters out of here.
Alcander backed away, his staff still extended. The rebel Shifters peeled off and retreated. Jasmine’s eyes turned skyward. Confusion was etched on her face and she turned to face Kiora.
Kiora reached out and felt nature once again surrounding her with unfathomable power. She pulled and magic rushed to her from every side, filling her more rapidly than she had ever experienced. It looped through her heart, but this time her heartbeat remained steady despite the pain. As the magic fed her, her anger grew at every crime and atrocity Jasmine was responsible for—the deaths whose numbers Kiora could not fathom and that stretched out for thousands of years.
Stepping forward, she used magic force to swat the Light from Jasmine’s hands, sending it rolling across the beach. “Enough!” Kiora shouted. “Your vengeful reign is over.”
***
THE SKY WAS EMPTY OF enemies—it had been a massacre once the barrier went down. Many of the rebels were among the dead, but many more had survived. The swords were what turned the tide of the battle. Every rebel still on the island owed their lives to a Witow—a Witow who had just lost his.
Alcander yelled for the rebels to run, pointing toward the other side of the island. He then bent down and gingerly scooped up Emane’s body.
Drustan strode up next to him—back in human form, only larger than normal. “Give him to me,” he said gently, holding his arms out. “You won’t be able to run.”
Alcander handed Drustan Emane’s body. A look of profound anguish and understanding passed between the two, and then they ran. Alcander slowed as he approached one of the larger Dragons. He was a brilliant red and sitting on the beach near the queen’s body. Alcander bowed at the waist. “We are moving to the far side of the island as requested by the Solus. We have been honored to fight with you, and would now be honored to have you with us.”
/> The large red Dragon gave a slow nod of assent.
***
THE BLACK-AND-PURPLE clouds overhead formed into a funnel, dipping toward Kiora. She was in agony, but despite that, she pulled more magic. She would finish this.
And then, something broke inside her.
A sharp pain shot from her feet to the top of her head, so intense it nearly dropped her to her knees. But then the pain vanished, replaced with a pulse that throbbed through her—the heartbeat of nature itself. She could feel the waves in the lake, the force of earth beneath her feet, the sky, the trees. There was nothing she wasn’t aware of. She had tapped into nature in a way she had never understood was possible. They had become one, and she now wielded a force even Jasmine couldn’t compete with. Harnessing it, she threw a gust of wind.
Jasmine put up a shield. Even so, she stumbled back from the force of the blow.
Kiora shoved out a second burst. It tossed Jasmine into the air and dropped her flat on her back. Kiora immediately knelt, placing her hand on the ground. But this time there would be no small tricks, no rolling of the earth—just raw power.
The sand popped and fissured, spouting up puffs of air along the fault line she had just created. The bedrock beneath groaned in protest as the island was ripped in half. The air filled with dust and dirt, and chunks of rock cleaved from the sides and fell into the lake.
Jasmine lay on one half, Kiora and the rebels on the other.
Kiora looked up to the purple, storm-filled sky. She could feel the clouds moving, the water within them, and the lightning. That’s what she needed. One gentle nudge and a bolt of blue lightning slammed into the middle of the island where Jasmine lay. It impacted with a boom that shook the very air around them. Another fissure opened next to Jasmine, and Kiora widened it with a flick of her hand.
Jasmine’s head jerked up. Her dark hair blew around her face, and for the first time, Kiora saw panic in her eyes. She pushed herself to her feet, grappling for control of the magic Kiora was using to rip her section of the island in half again.