Wings of Nestor

by Walls, Devri

  It wasn’t only that, Kiora realized. When they were melded like that, she couldn’t pinpoint where they were. They could have been behind her and she wouldn’t have known.

  The island was backlit as the sun rose over its peak, blinding her to the incoming dragons. She didn’t like it.

  Don’t worry—by the time we need the water shield, they will be close enough to see.

  Time slowed to the beat of Arturo’s wings as Kiora waited to see what the approaching threads would bring. Then she saw something glinting oddly in the sun: reds, oranges, and yellows shining through the sunrise.

  “What is that?” she asked, squinting.

  Dragons’ scales are like a chameleon’s.

  Kiora scrunched up her nose, mentally calculating how many different flashes she saw as the sun reflected off the scales. I didn’t see Morcant change colors.

  It is not an immediate change—it takes place slowly, over time. Dragons will eventually change to match their surroundings.

  Kiora thought back to Morcant’s land of brown, his hole of brown, and his scales of brown. “But these are so bright.”

  You will understand soon enough.

  “Arturo,” she began slowly, shifting herself nervously on his back. “There must be twenty of them.”

  You will need a thick bubble.

  The sun made its way farther into the sky and she could now see what was coming at her. Her fingers clenched around Arturo’s mane—these dragons were massive. They would dwarf Morcant.

  Warriors, Arturo explained.

  The dragons’ size was intimidating enough, but the colors added to the overall effect. Their scales danced in the rising sun like brilliant gems. The oncoming force opened their mouths, roaring in unison. Kiora’s ears ached and her teeth vibrated in her head. It was a roar meant to put the fear of the Creators into their enemies, and it worked. Kiora froze, looking into the face of an oncoming fire-red dragon.

  Kiora swallowed, closing her eyes. Not because she needed to for the magic, but just so she didn’t have to see and feel the army they had sent out to greet her. Her magic leaped out as she visualized the water rising to surround them. She couldn’t see what was happening, but by the muted roars of the dragons, she knew it had worked. Still, she didn’t open her eyes, requesting more and more water. Then she heard a loud sizzling, like water in a hot pan, and an explosion of steam forced her eyes open. Kiora breathed out, a smile flittering across her face. All around them swirled a ball of seawater, encasing them. It was colored red and orange as dragon fire burst onto the outer surface.

  Kiora, it’s evaporating. Fast.

  Kiora redoubled her efforts, calling a continuous stream of water to her shield as dragon upon dragon opened fire. She was soon surrounded in an eerie world of blue, red, and orange. The hissing and steaming of the hot water was almost loud enough to drown out the dragons’ roars as they attacked.

  Lomay was right, Kiora thought with a shudder. We would have been dead before I uttered a word.

  The onslaught lasted for what felt like an eternity, but suddenly the colors faded. The hissing diminished, leaving her surrounded by a silent, swirling world of blue.

  “Why have you come?” a booming dragon voice asked from in front of them.

  “I need to speak with your queen,” Kiora yelled out.

  There was silence and then there was laughter, growing louder as more and more voices joined him. Kiora rolled her eyes. Dragon mood changes. The laughter crescendoed and fell away nearly as soon as it had begun.

  “No one has been on our island for over a hundred years. Why would we allow you?”

  “Because I come by myself and have not shown any desire to harm you.”

  “And yet you hide behind a wall of water so we cannot see your face.”

  “My face would have been no more visible beneath your wall of fire.”

  “Well said,” the dragon conceded. “What is your name?”

  “Kiora.”

  “And the Pegasus’ name?”

  “Arturo.”

  “Very well. Drop the water.”

  Kiora hesitated. “How can I trust that we’ll be safe?”

  “Are you questioning my word?” the dragon roared.

  In her mind’s eye, Kiora could see his chest puffing, preparing to attack, as dragons did when offended. Scrambling to fix her gaffe, she amended, “Of course not. But I have only spoken with you. There are many others here who have not spoken.” Kiora held her breath, hoping she had repaired the damage.

  “My word speaks for all of us. Now lower your defenses.”

  Go ahead, Arturo encouraged.

  The water fell in a rush back to the ocean. Directly in front of her, hovering with giant, slow wing beats, was a large red dragon. The others formed a tight circle around them, keeping the same slow rhythm as the leader.

  “You are but a child,” the dragon observed, tilting his head. “But that was very clever. Did you think of that plan all on your own?”

  Remembering Lomay’s advice not to mention him, she lied. “Yes.”

  “Ingenious,” he observed. “I trust you will keep that idea to yourself?” He gave an obligatory smile that conveniently showed off his teeth.

  “Of course.” Kiora respectfully lowered her head. “May I ask your name?”

  “Silan.”

  Silan, Soolan, Jarland. Dragons’ names all sounded the same. “It is very nice to meet you. I…”

  “I cannot guarantee you will get off our island,” Silan interrupted. “Come.” He turned his body in the air, his tail missing Arturo’s nose by inches. The other dragons fell into formation around Kiora and Arturo, making it clear that it was less of a courtesy and more of an armed escort. At this point, she was going to see the queen whether she liked it or not.

  Comforting, Kiora thought, glancing at the dragons on either side of her.

  It’s as much as we could have hoped for. Now you must impress the queen. If you don’t, you may get that shorter life you were hoping for.

  Kiora breathed in giant gulps of sea air to clear her mind.

  Ouch!

  Sorry! Kiora untangled her fingers from Arturo’s mane. She hadn’t realized she had been twisting it so tightly.

  The island of Toopai was mainly occupied by the volcano and surrounded by beach running as far as the eye could see in both directions. There were skinny trees with rough bark and triangle-shaped protrusions that ran uniformly around the tree. At the top was a clump of very large, flat leaves. The vegetation between the sand and trees was thick and filled in the little space that the gigantic mountain did not occupy. It was beautiful, but looked completely uninhabited.

  They flew over the beach and right at the volcano. As they neared it, they headed for a stone-framed archway. Kiora’s heart slid into her throat as Silan pulled his wings in slightly as not to clip the sides of the doorway. Kiora and Arturo soared straight in behind him. The rest of the dragons peeled away and returned to the beach.

  As they flew inside, it took Kiora a moment to understand what she was seeing. It looked like a long stone ramp that hung precariously out over open air. Flanking the ramp were giant carved columns of solid crystal in alternating colors sparkling in the sunlight that poured in the doorway behind them. Reds, yellows, and oranges bounced off each other, sending color spinning out through the mountain.

  Arturo gracefully landed next to Silan. Eyes wide, Kiora exhaled in wonder. What is this?

  The great crystal hall of the dragons. The volcano left behind deposits of crystal, and back when the world got along, the Shifters carved them into pillars. The extra material is used throughout the mountain.

  That is why the dragons are so bright? Kiora clarified. Because of the crystals?

  Yes. Their bodies have matched their surroundings.

  Silan marched forward, looking over his shoulder to make sure Kiora and Arturo were still behind him.

  Poor Morcant. To go from this to his hole in the ground.
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br />   The mountain loomed above them, hollowed out. An oculus at the top let in more light, allowing the pillars to dance and sing with color. Silan stopped at the end of the ramp, looking out. The mountain was uncomfortably warm and ribbons of sweat trickled between her shoulder blades. The familiar smell of dragon’s sulfur burned her nose.

  Peering over the edge of the stone ramp, Kiora saw an amazing sight. Natural stone shelves extended out like levels in a building, dropping deep into the mountain. Crystal pillars lined most of them and dragons walked, sat, and flew among them. Some were Morcant’s size while others were much smaller, daintier. Female, Kiora realized with a jolt. She had never seen a female dragon before.

  Most of the dragons came to a stop when they saw her. They stood at the edge of the shelves to look up at the strange duo that had entered their home.

  “This is as far as the Pegasus goes,” Silan said without looking at them. “If you want to see the queen, you will come with me.”

  Kiora looked nervously down, realizing the acute danger she was in. Fending off twenty dragons with a water shield would be child’s play compared with getting out of this mountain if the dragons decided they had other plans.

  “May I ask why Arturo is not welcome?”

  Kiora felt Arturo’s displeasure with her question.

  Silan’s eyes narrowed and he extended his neck to within inches of Kiora. Apparently a lack of personal space was not just a Morcant trait after all.

  “Because the queen will want to know that your thoughts and words are your own.”

  “Of course.” She lowered her eyes respectfully. “Where will we be going?”

  “Straight down.”

  “How would you like me to get there?”

  He grimaced, exposing his teeth. “You may ride.”

  “Thank you. May Arturo help me on?”

  “He may, but then he must leave.” Silan faced forward, waiting.

  Arturo rose, flying her over the top of Silan where she slid gently onto the dragon’s back. Morcant had been bad enough to ride, but Silan’s scales were larger, more uncomfortable to sit on, and harder to grip.

  Remember your manners, Kiora, and you will be fine. Trust your instincts. I will be outside.

  Silan jumped off the edge with little regard for Kiora. He pulled his wings tightly to his side, dropping into a dive straight down. It was a blur of red, orange, and yellow from both the crystal structures and the dragons themselves. Kiora clenched her fingers around the scales, pulling her knees in so tight, they were shaking. The deeper they went, the hotter it became, and Kiora’s lungs burned with each ragged gasp. Sweat ran down her back and stray hairs stuck to the side of her face. She grunted, trying to readjust her right hand.

  “Silan?” she asked. “Why did you decide to take me to your queen?”

  “I find you curious.”

  She smiled despite herself. Morcant had said the same thing.

  As they neared what looked to be the bottom of the mountain, Silan leveled out, landing on a rather large ledge. Relaxing her hold, Kiora sat up, stretching her fingers. Before them stood what Kiora assumed was the work of the Shifters. The crystal on this level had been carved into two dragons’ wings. They arched in the same shape as the Wings of Arian, only larger, framing out a red-and-orange doorway. Folding his wings neatly back, Silan walked through the door.

  The chamber inside was more magnificent than she could have dreamed. The walls were crystal. The same type of pillars she admired earlier stood to the left and right of them, marking a pathway down the center of the room. The pillars were carved so precisely, they looked like smoky tendrils stretching upwards from the back of the throne nearly to the ceiling. At the end of the room was a wide throne. A dragon lay across it.

  The dragon appeared to be asleep. She was much smaller than Silan and was colored in a most unique fashion. All the other dragons were either red, yellow, or orange. This dragon, whom Kiora had to assume was the queen, was all three colors. Her eyes were framed in yellow scales while her face and neck were solid red. From there, her scales faded gently from red to orange, leaving the tip of her tail wrapped in solid yellow. She was beautiful, but thin, with faded and frail wings. As they approached, the dragon’s eyes flickered open. Her pupils were more gray than black, aging her otherwise beautiful face.

  “Your Majesty,” Silan said, bowing his head until it lay flat on the ground. Kiora slid off Silan’s back before following suit, bowing her head until her chin rested on her chest. “We found her approaching the island on a Pegasus. She has asked to speak with you.”

  The queen shifted, wrapping her tail around her. “Thank you, Silan.”

  Kiora felt herself relax. The queen’s voice was musical indeed. Where the male dragons were all tenor and bass and very loud, the queen’s voice was higher, softer, and had a pleasant lilt to it.

  Silan did not move, his head still on the ground.

  “You may go now, Silan,” the queen said.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  The queen was silent as Silan lumbered out. His thread was far away before she spoke. “You must have made quite an impression on him,” she said, evaluating Kiora with an inquisitive eye.

  Kiora kept her head down. “It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty.”

  “What is your name, child?”

  “Kiora.”

  “Please look up, Kiora.”

  Kiora cautiously brought her eyes up to meet the queen’s.

  She was still lying down but her head was up, eyes alert, and her wings were folded neatly across her back. She tilted her head to the side. “You have piqued my curiosity. Why have you come?”

  Kiora took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Should she just tell her about the dreams, or was there a socially proper preamble she should offer first? Her questions bound her tongue and she stood there silent, her thoughts jumping from one scenario to the next. Many of them ended with the queen engulfing her in flames.

  “You are human,” the queen said suddenly.

  The air went out of Kiora. “How did you know that?”

  The queen smiled. “I have been alive a long time, Kiora. I have seen all there is to see.” Her wings fluttered on her back before she folded them flat again. “A human is something I have not seen in many years. Where do you hail from?”

  “A land called Meros. We have lived in magical isolation for thousands of years. No one could come in, nor could we leave.”

  “I see. And who was the author of this magical isolation?”

  “Dralazar.”

  “Truly?” Her lips pursed. “Interesting. And now you are here and are nervous to tell me why.”

  “I need help,” Kiora finally managed.

  The queen chuckled. “Help. That is all anyone ever wants. And yet, who will help us?” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “No one. They turn on us, try to take our home, and kill our children. My kind have been massacred and we are forced to all reside in one place, for there is safety in numbers.” She scratched her claws across the bottom of her throne. “You are either brave, desperate, or stupid to ask us for help.”

  “Desperate.” Kiora hung her head. “I am desperate. And I don’t need any help from the dragons. I only need help from you. I need to ask you some questions.”

  The queen raised her eyes. “Questions are the most dangerous things, child. Truths can build up or destroy. Answers cannot be taken back, nor undone.” She shook her head, clicking her tongue. “Yes, questions are most dangerous.”

  “But sometimes wrongs can only be righted with truth.”

  “Ah, and you are trying to right a wrong, are you?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Many have come to us under the guise of righting wrongs and then have perpetuated their own wrongs in the name of truth.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty, they have.” Kiora’s hands fisted at her sides. “But I am different. I only…”

  The queen threw her head back and laughed. The crysta
l walls hummed with the vibration. “As they all say. I have seen many creatures over my years. No one is different. All are weak, corruptible.” She pronounced “corruptible” carefully, her lips curling around the word.

  “Your Majesty, in Meros, we were not just isolated from the outside world—we were isolated from everything. Evil, as well as magic. My people lived in peace for a thousand years.”

  The queen leaned forward, eyes intense.

  “I knew no lies, and I knew no hurt at the hand of another. This year, Dralazar returned, and everything changed.”

  The queen’s nostrils flared at the mention of Dralazar’s name.

  “I was called as the Solus for Meros. I had to watch evil in the Wings of Arian for the first time. It was one of the most painful days of my life. I ran, hoping to make it go away. But there was no going back.” Kiora paused, trying to calm her breathing, which was racing out of control. “Your Majesty, because of how I lived, I am different. Evil pains me in a way I cannot explain. Taking lives, even when they are seeking to take mine—it is horrific.”

  The queen’s silence permeated the room. “You say you are the Solus for your people. Are you more than that?”

  “Yes, I am the Solus of prophecy.” She flushed.