by Devri Walls
They had rebuilt the castle with its original design, and she never tired of its beauty. The inside had been restored down to the glass chandeliers. Only the throne room varied. The vines that had lined the walls were now gone, and behind the throne stood Kiora’s wedding present to her husband. It had taken some effort to excavate the Wings of Tavea from the ruins of the old canyon, but she had done it. And with Alcander’s permission, they had renamed them the Wings of Lomay—in memory of the one who had been like a father to him and who had sacrificed his life to the cause.
She looked up at Alcander’s wedding present to her, as she did at least once a week. Alcander had commissioned Drustan to build a statue of Emane. The stone likeness stood with his arms out, the sword given him by the Guardians laid across them and holding a large glass box. Within the box rested the Light they had recovered from the waters beneath the island, and at the bottom was an inscription that read,
Prince Emane of Meros. A Human. A Witow. A Protector. He taught us that to be without magic is not to be without worth. He taught us that true strength lies within. We are forever in his debt.
Kiora sat on the bench in front of the statue, smoothing out her dress. “I had a nightmare last night,” she began, looking up at the statue. “But it was the first one in months. It wasn’t as painful as I remember them being—maybe that’s good. Drustan and Nara have sent word from Meros that your father’s new wife is expecting. Meros will have an heir.” She tangled her hands in the fabric of her dress. “We can only hope he is half as suited to the job as you were.”
A pounding of feet interrupted her as three Tavean children tore past her. The eldest tripped on a twining ivy bush and crashed forward, crushing flowering plants in his wake. His siblings stopped, laughing and pointing.
Kiora huffed and walked over, helping to disentangle the child. “Emane,” she scolded. “How many times must I tell you not to run through the gardens?”
“But Mother, there is nowhere else to run!”
Kiora stood up straight, looking down at the white-haired, blue-eyed boy, the exact likeness of his father. “You mean besides the miles of hills that surround us?”
He crossed his arms and looked away as he muttered. “Nowhere fun to run.”
Alcander came up behind Kiora, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Emane, listen to your mother.”
Emane rolled his eyes, tossing his hair back off his forehead with a flip of his head as he leaned against one of the waist-high stone walls that surrounded the statue, kicking one leg out and crossing it over the other. Although he looked nothing like Emane of Meros, it never failed to amaze her how many times her son reminded her of him
“Emane,” Alcander warned again.
Their son and his two sisters trudged back toward the edge of the garden and headed to the hills.
“He is so much like him,” Kiora said, leaning back against Alcander’s chest.
“I know. It’s as if he is haunting me from beyond the grave.”
Kiora laughed and squeezed his arms. “You loved him too.”
“I did,” Alcander said. “He snuck up on me. Just like you.” He gave her a kiss. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Hmmm?”
“There is a Domat waiting for you in the throne room.”
She whirled around. “Did he . . .?”
Alcander nodded. “I don’t know how he did it—the Light’s signature should have faded long ago, but he has the last one.”
Kiora picked up her skirts and raced toward the castle. The crown on her head slid to the side and she straightened it absently as she walked through the halls on her way to the throne room, Alcander right behind her. She pushed open the double doors to find the Domat she had sent standing in the middle of the room, a brilliant Light in his arms. He turned to her, his black ears perked up, and his eyes glittered with pride.
“Solus, my queen.” He dropped to one knee and held up the Light.
Kiora took it, running her hand over the surface. “We did it, Emane.” She closed her eyes and squeezed the Light against her. “We did it.”
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DEVRI WALLS lives in Kuna, Idaho, with her husband, two kids, and one very bouncy Lab. After suffering from an abundance of creativity with not enough places to put it, she turned to writing—which, in the end, turned out to be exactly where she should have been putting it all along.
Devri Walls © copyright 2014
All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
StoneHouse Ink 2014
Boise ID 83713
www.stonehouseink.net
First eBook Edition: 2014
First Paperback Edition: 2014
Cover design by Phatpuppy Art
This book was professionally edited by Tristi Pinkston
www.tristipinkstonediting.blogspot.com
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to a real person, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Published in the United States of America
Table of Contents
Praise for Devri Walls
Title Page
Also by Devri Walls
CHAPTER 1: New Arrivals
CHAPTER 2: Swordplay
CHAPTER 3: Sacrifices Must be Made
CHAPTER 4: Recruiting Shifters
CHAPTER 5: Into the Fray
CHAPTER 6: Surrounded
CHAPTER 7: Wounded and Weak
CHAPTER 8: Favors and Allies
CHAPTER 9: Return to Tavea
CHAPTER 10: Winter Solstice
CHAPTER 11: Destroyer
CHAPTER 12: Motivations Revealed
CHAPTER 13: Out of Time
CHAPTER 14: Into the City
CHAPTER 15: No More Hiding
CHAPTER 16: Lake Everleen
CHAPTER 17: Eight Are Stronger Than One
CHAPTER 18: Demise
CHAPTER 19: Aftermath
CHAPTER 20: Promises
EPILOGUE
About the Author
Copyright Information