Wings of Nestor

by Walls, Devri

  “I thought it wouldn’t work for anyone but you,” Kiora said.

  “It won’t,” Alcander said. “But that doesn’t stop him from carrying it as proof of his stolen title.” Grunting, he shifted with irritation. “We need to go.”

  As they flew over the top of the castle, Kiora couldn’t help but turn to catch another look at its magnificence. The back of the castle was even more beautiful than the front, with ornate, half-moon-shaped balconies stretching out from each room. Some held fountains that bubbled happily in the sunlight. Others had flowering vines that wrapped in and around them, creeping their way up the walls. The vines were giving way to the chill in the air, the flowers drooping sadly, but they refused to submit to the change in seasons.

  Beneath that, gardens stretched out behind the castle. Hedges large and small snaked around like a maze. Spots of remaining color between the hedges hinted at the spectacle the gardens must be during spring and summer. At the edge of the royal gardens stood one final hedge. Twice as tall as a man, it acted as a natural barrier between the royals and the houses that stood on the other side.

  Within the gardens was a small stone cottage. It was ringed with garden beds with three paths making their way to it, and a huge, glittering orb perched on the peak of its roof. Although simple, its location and landscaping suggested it was something of great importance to the Taveans. She wanted to ask about it, but Alcander’s stiffness kept her question at bay.

  Alcander didn’t relax until they were far enough away from Tavea that Kiora couldn’t feel the threads anymore. Not long after, they flew over more towns and villages. Tavea had left Kiora in awe because of its beauty and in fear of its accumulating army. But some of these villages they were flying over were even larger than Tavea, with more threads than ten villages the size of Meros. The king would be collecting from these villages as well. The thought of going to war with them was laughable—they were hopelessly outnumbered. She ran scenarios in her mind, trying to think of something—anything—but she couldn’t. All she could see was complete and total destruction of the small handful of good that had managed to survive.

  “So many species living together,” Drustan commented as they flew over the village. “That is surprising.”

  “In the beginning,” Alcander said, “the Shadow worked slowly. It took those who followed it and relocated them to centralized locations, keeping them isolated from those who hadn’t turned. Many didn’t realize what was happening until these mixed villages grew so large that there was no attacking them.

  “It was the first time anyone here had lived with other species—we had always lived with our own kind. The Taveans stayed in Tavea, the Shifters had their colonies, and so on. Now only a few places retain the old ways. Tavea is one of them”

  Alcander had told her that the Shadow hadn’t been seen in hundreds of years until it resurfaced with her arrival. “Are they all still loyal to the Shadow?” Kiora asked.

  “Absolutely loyal,” Alcander said gravely as they cleared another village. “One word from the Shadow, or my uncle, and they would take their own lives.”

  “No one should have that much power,” Emane said from behind Kiora.

  “When the Shadow is around, you lose your magic, leaving it the only source of power. Its followers fear it, and because of that fear, they would never admit anything but loyalty. The Shadow demands it.”

  “What does the Shadow promise them for their loyalty?” Kiora asked, still trying to put things together.

  “Just their lives.”

  “And your uncle? What power does he hold?”

  “He is the Shadow’s mouthpiece. Whatever he says is thought to be no different from that of the Shadow. Those who disobey are punished harshly. In the beginning, the Shadow appeared for more than one of my uncle’s punishments, carrying out his threats as if they were its own. The mere threat of the Shadow’s appearance is all that is necessary to keep everyone in line now. Those Taveans we encountered at the manor were there on orders from my uncle, as were those who had been sent to find you after you arrived.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “What does it matter?” Alcander asked. “Family or not, a fraud is on my father’s throne, and the entire land follows the Shadow.”

  “Of course it makes a difference,” Emane said. “To kill a snake, you cut off its head. Which, I am assuming, you wouldn’t have a problem doing.”

  “Are you volunteering to march into Tavea?”

  “I am just saying—”

  “I know what you are saying,” Alcander interrupted. “The problem is, you don’t.”

  “What is that?” Drustan asked.

  Kiora was so distracted listening to Alcander and Emane that she hadn’t been looking ahead of them. They were flying straight at a massive pit. It was the size of a lake and twice as deep as it was wide. Figures of all shapes and sizes moved around, carrying dirt in baskets up ramps that had been cut into the side.

  Drustan dropped his altitude to get a closer look, but Alcander shouted, “No! Higher!’ Drustan jerked, angling his wings to pull back up. “You’ll run right into it. Watch.”

  Sure enough, large bursts of magic shot into the sky at varying intervals. Some flew nearly as high as they were and some lower, but all simultaneously. Had they been flying any lower, it would have been a miracle for them to avoid being shot.

  “What are they doing?” Drustan asked, his head swiveling as he took it all in.

  “And why aren’t they using magic to move that dirt?” Kiora added.

  “We still aren’t sure. We tried to send spies in, but no one has come back out. This,” Alcander waved his hand toward the pit, “is where any rebel who survives an attack is sent. Obviously the Shadow is looking for something. They have been digging for years. As for why they aren’t using magic, it’s likely that whatever they are looking for is enchanted. They must go through every inch of dirt by hand.”

  Kiora stared down as they flew over. Judging by the threads, there were more than just captured rebels working down there. There was also a heavy concentration of Shapeshifters, morphed into large creatures that could move vast quantities of dirt and rock. But what struck Kiora most was that this place looked strangely familiar, and she couldn’t put her finger on why it did.

  ***

  THE GROUP HAD FLOWN all night, Drustan stopping to rest only twice. Kiora’s head was beginning to bob, her eyes threatening to close of their own accord. The sun broke the horizon. The flaps of Drustan’s wings were growing choppy and uneven from exhaustion. A salty smell, with an undertone of fish, filled the air.

  “It has been a long time,” Drustan said between gasping breaths. “I didn’t think I would ever see this again.”

  Kiora looked over Alcander’s shoulders and her mouth hung open in awe. The land dropped off into never-ending waters, the sun spreading its rays over top like a glistening orange blanket. When Alcander had said “the sea,” she had thought of the Sea of Garian, where the land on the other side could still be seen. But this was so much bigger than that. She heard the waves crashing into the cliffs, its power so different from the gentle lapping she was used to.

  “What is that?” she finally managed to whisper.

  “The sea,” Alcander said.

  “The ocean,” Drustan clarified.

  “I have never seen anything like it,” Emane said.

  “Toopai is out there?” Kiora asked, pointing across the waters.

  “Yes. An island, completely isolated from anything,” Alcander said.

  Drustan’s head scanned the cliff ledge. “Where are we going? I don’t see anything.”

  Alcander pointed downward, a little to their right, and Drustan swooped in, landing more roughly than usual.

  Emane slid off, looking around. “There is nothing here.”

  Alcander said something that was drowned out by a particularly large wave crashing into the cliffs below them.

  “What?” Emane asked.<
br />
  “I said, it wouldn’t be a very good place to hide if it was easily found, would it?” Alcander strode over to the edge of the cliff, nudging off some rocks with the toe of his boot into the waves below. Kiora came up next to him, looking down.

  “Is the cave on the side of the cliff?” Kiora asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Alcander asked.

  “It’s always caves,” she said. “And since there is nothing out here, I assumed it must be down there somewhere.” She leaned forward as far as she dared before the fear of falling over the edge pulled her back.

  Alcander half smiled. “It’s not a cave. The magic that conceals Lomay’s old home is powerful, even for him. Watch.”

  Emane had joined them, looking warily at the pounding surf while Drustan stared out into the rising sun, breathing in the salt water. Alcander kicked more rocks over the edge.

  “Now, watch again.” This time he bent down, running his hand over empty air, muttering something under his breath. Standing up, he stepped off the cliff. Kiora reached for him, her scream frozen in her throat, but Alcander didn’t go anywhere. He was standing on air, nothing underneath him.

  “How…how are you doing that?” Emane asked.

  “Lomay’s home is this way.” Alcander marched forward, over nothing, without looking back to see if they were following.

  Kiora went first. Her foot landed on something as real and solid as what she had just left. She grinned, watching the waves breaking below her.

  “Fine,” Emane grumbled behind her. “Just fine. The girl can’t cross rope bridges, but invisible ones are not a problem.”

  Drustan laughed.

  Kiora shouted back over her shoulder. “Invisible ones don’t feel like they are going to collapse beneath me.”

  “That makes perfect sense, Kiora. Absolutely perfect sense.”

  “Did you know your sarcasm becomes thicker when you are afraid?’ Drustan said, stepping over the cliff.

  “That is not true,” Emane argued.

  “Really? Then why are you still back there?”

  Emane looked at the very long drop to the ocean beneath his feet. “I don’t like this,” he groaned. “I don’t like this at all.”

  Alcander yelled back to them. “Hurry up!”

  Emane more jumped than stepped off the cliff. Feeling something solid beneath him, he took a few hesitant steps forward. POV – we’re in Kiora’s thoughts, not Emane’s.

  When they caught up with Alcander, they were far enough over the water that they could look back and see the full cliff face stretching upward from the ocean. It was magnificent in its raw beauty.

  Reaching out, Alcander muttered more unintelligible words and then wrapped his hand around something Kiora couldn’t see. He pushed, and a door swung open. A grand entryway greeted them. A giant staircase flowed upward, splitting at the top and running both directions. It was less of a house and more of a palace. Alcander walked ahead of them, followed by Drustan, who did not seem surprised. Kiora and Emane walked in slowly, eyes wide.

  “How…” Kiora began.

  “Lomay lived here for a long time,” Alcander explained. “When it came under attack, he made it appear as if it had fallen into the ocean. Then he concealed the house right here.”

  “Don’t birds ever run into it?” Emane asked. “It’s enormous.”

  “No, whatever hits it is instantly transported to the other side.”

  “And when they are transported, they have no idea anything has happened?” Kiora walked in a circle, taking in the full magnitude of the home.

  “No. And the pathway is not solid until the correct incantation is spoken.”

  “Impressive,” Emane said.

  It was impressive, but Kiora’s eyes felt like they were full of sand. “Let’s get some sleep,” she said. “We have a couple of days before Arturo arrives, and we could use all the rest we can get.”

  Alcander led the group up the stairs and to the left, where a hall opened to multiple guest rooms. Kiora didn’t know how long it had been since the house had visitors—she imagined it had been a while—yet there was not one speck of dust on anything. Magic must have kept the rooms in pristine condition.

  Alcander showed Kiora to a room in the middle of the hall. She didn’t see where he took the others, but could feel by their threads that their rooms were near.

  The sun was shining in through a large set of glass double doors against the far wall, and she saw a balcony jutting out. Had she not been so exhausted, she would have gone out to investigate, but right then all she wanted was to crawl into bed. It was large enough to fit four or five people and the headboard was taller than she was, stretching up the back wall. Pulling off her shoes, Kiora crawled under the covers and drifted to sleep.

  Belen stood with Nestor in his workshop.

  “I will never forgive myself for falling prey to her, Nestor. I should have known better—” Belen’s voice caught.

  “Can we fix it?”

  “The magic is very nearly absolute,” Belen said. “The talisman is extremely powerful.”

  “You said nearly.” Nestor relaxed slightly. “You have been listening to my ramblings on the needs for exceptions after all.”

  “Yes, but this one . . .”He shook his head. “I should have done better. The exception is weak. The only solution is to make another talisman, its other half.”

  “It will void the magic?” Nestor asked hopefully.

  Belen began to pace, running his fingers through his hair. “Only if they are connected—that’s the problem. The second talisman will act in much the same manner as the first unless they are together. Then, and only then, will it nullify the effects of the piece.”

  “That means…there has to be two of them,” Nestor said, looking very tired.

  “Yes.”

  “That is not acceptable.”

  “It is the only way. You will need to get close enough to her to put the two together.”

  Nestor held up his hand. “No.” He shook his head. “No. You must take it and hide it.”

  Belen looked shocked, his mouth opening and shutting like a gasping fish. “But Nestor, she will kill you. She told me when I gave it to her…”

  The vision repeated from the beginning, over and over, never allowing Belen to finish the sentence although Kiora was sure she knew what he was going to say: Jasmine had planned to kill Nestor.

  She finally woke and the vision faded to black once again. Stretching, Kiora lay in bed, reluctant to move. She had been weeks without a bed. Weeks without a decent night’s sleep. And weeks without something to do the second her eyes opened. Frankly, she was tired. Not just physically, but emotionally.

  She stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting back to a few months ago. Had it been that long? She could hardly remember anymore. She had been innocent and naïve, and it had all been ripped away when she looked into the Wings of Arian. Her heart constricted—she missed not understanding evil and she missed just being Kiora, but she would never be “just Kiora” ever again. She would always be Kiora, the Solus.

  Rolling her head to the side, she looked at the glass doors. The blue of the ocean stretched on for miles. Pulling the blankets back, she padded across the marble floor and stepped onto the balcony.

  The air was brisk, especially with the moisture in the air. Out in front of her stretched an endless expanse of blue. It soothed her aching heart. Kiora closed her eyes, breathing in the salt and the peace, letting it fill every inch of her. Leaning forward on the rail, she pulled out Morcant’s scale.

  Kiora smiled. She could almost see Morcant flying over the waters, his wings skimming the waves. The poor creature must have been devastated when the gate closed, to go from this to Meros, and then to that horrible dirt hole in the ground. And yet, through all of it, he never lost his inherent goodness. She rubbed her thumb across the shining scale before bringing it to her lips. Morcant was good because he chose to be, because that’s who he was. Kiora
felt, in that moment, a little less pity for those who followed Dralazar and the Shadow. It was a choice, she realized.

  “Kiora?” Emane poked his head through the door. “Are you awake?”

  She had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t felt his thread approach. “Out here,” she called.

  Emane walked out and whistled. “Wow.”

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Emane leaned on the rail, his elbow almost touching hers. “It’s unbelievable. It looks like it goes on forever.”

  It was nice, knowing that he understood. In Meros, you could see from one mountain range to the other. Nothing seemed endless.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

  “Yes. Only one vision.” Kiora shrugged. “Over and over again.”

  “Was it about Jasmine?”

  “About a talisman Belen made for Jasmine. It sounded like Jasmine was planning to kill Nestor with it, but I have no idea how it works.”

  “That would have to be a powerful talisman, to kill a Creator.”

  “I know.” Kiora tucked the scale back beneath her shirt. “My dreams never give me enough information. Belen made Jasmine something, Nestor is worried about it, Belen is going to make something to counteract it, but…I don’t know details.”

  Emane swore under his breath.

  She laughed. “Were you hoping I had a dream that told me everything so I wouldn’t go visit the dragons?”