by Walls, Devri
Shoving the blankets off the rest of the way, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. The green snake wrapped around his arm caught the light coming in through the windows. Sighing, he looked at it. Just enough magic to keep him alive in this world, just enough magic to gift him with healing, but not enough magic to make him truly a part of it. Not enough magic to allow him to touch Kiora, to feel her magic rush through him. He had seen the look on Alcander’s face outside before Kiora left, and he had wanted to kill him for being able to enjoy it so much. He wanted her so badly, he ached inside.
Back in Meros, she had restored his faith in everything. In himself, in love, in life. And now, he might lose her. Surely there was an exception. There was an exception to everything. Maybe he could find a way to extend his life and make the magic he already had truly part of him.
A stiff knock jolted him from his thoughts.
“Yes?”
Alcander’s voice came through the door. “If you are going to eat, you had better do it now. I will meet you outside for training in fifteen minutes.”
Emane grumbled, pulling a tunic over his head. He knew he should eat, but he wasn’t actually hungry. Pulling on boots, he strapped on his sword and a dagger. Lomay had promised to procure a sword for Alcander.
Lomay was waiting for him at the base of the stairs. “I have the sword you requested.”
It wasn’t as intricate as the one Emane owned, but it was well crafted. Emane took it by the hilt. “Thank you.”
“I daresay Alcander will lack your gratitude.”
Emane laughed. “I daresay you are correct. And I will love every minute of it.” He winked before strolling outside, testing the weight and balance of the sword.
Alcander stood staring over the cliffs. Throwing open the doors, Emane yelled, “Are you just going to stand there or are we going to fight?”
Alcander gave him a narrow glare.
“Do you practice that pose?” Emane asked, cocking his head to one side. “Because it really is quite stunning.”
Alcander almost smiled—almost. “You’re in a good mood.”
“As are you, considering you are about to be beaten by a Witow.” He threw Alcander his sword.
Alcander caught it neatly. “You honestly think you can beat me?”
“If you are not allowed to use your magic—which you are not, by the way—then, yes.” Emane moved closer, his sword held out in front of him. “The tactics are different, your balance is different, and your strengths will not be your strengths. Hence—” He spread his arms wide, smirking. “The good mood.”
Alcander squinted as he appraised Emane.
“What?”
“Yesterday, this morning—I think I can see it.”
“See what?”
Alcander hesitated, as if it pained him to say it. “You being called as the Protector.”
Emane was stunned. He couldn’t tell if that was an apology or an observation. Either way, he couldn’t deny that it was genuine, which oddly touched him. “You no longer find me…What’s the word you always used? Inadequate?”
Alcander’s mouth quirked to the side. “Don’t push your luck.”
Emane held up his sword. “Let’s go.”
When Emane came within range, Alcander leaped straight into the air, flipping over Emane’s head and landing neatly on the other side of him.
Emane rolled his eyes as he turned to face Alcander. “Fine—you have one strength. Although I still have trouble believing you don’t need magic to do that.”
Alcander shrugged.
“My point is, I have the advantage.” Emane spread his feet into a fighting stance, holding his sword out in front. “Shall we begin?”
Alcander moved forward with the sword. Emane easily knocked it away, sidestepping.
“Ah, not as easy as it looks to be a Witow, is it?” Emane said, struggling against the joy bubbling within him. It felt so good not to be at a disadvantage.
Alcander lunged again. Although he was fast, he didn’t understand where to place the sword and Emane knocked it away with one sure movement and a neat step to the side. Alcander stumbled, looking unsure of himself for the first time since Emane had met him. “I am reconsidering teaching you how to fight, Alcander. I like you much better when you’re not so arrogant.”
“Really?” Alcander said, straightening up. “That’s strange—I find I like your arrogant side better. Less whiny and needy.”
Emane grinned and neatly flicked out with his sword, disarming Alcander. The sword spun across the courtyard.
Alcander moved his hand up. Emane recognized it immediately from his training with Aleric and blocked the spell with his sword. The magic rebounded, knocking Alcander flat on his back.
“Alcander, that is cheating.”
Alcander actually smiled. “Yes,” he grunted, pushing himself to his feet. “I can definitely see it. I like you much better this way.” Retrieving his sword, Alcander tried to imitate Emane’s stance. “Are you going to teach me? Or shall we stand here and banter all day?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Return to Meros
IT TOOK ALMOST THREE days to reach the pass to Meros. Kiora had not realized how far from home they had traveled. She kept herself bubbled as they went. Considering what she came for, she didn’t want her presence announced to foe or friend.
The land of no magic was as eerily beautiful as Kiora remembered. She slid off Drustan’s back and stopped to admire the magnificent willows. Last time, they had been decidedly silver. But now, in the sunlight, they looked more green, with a touch of inexplicable sparkle.
“I will wait here for you, my lady,” he said with a bow before disappearing beneath the branches of the largest weeping willow.
She swallowed hard, her nerves running rampant. If the talisman wasn’t here, she had no idea where else to look. Steeling herself, she headed toward the Sea of Garian, just as she and Emane had done that first night here.
The sound of hundreds of tiny little footsteps reached her ears far faster than she had expected. Kiora shivered involuntarily, remembering the feel of their insect feet pulling at her clothes and skin as they covered her body. She froze, waiting.
A mist came rolling toward her, looking even more out of place in the sunlight than it had in the dead of night. It slipped over the green of the island, blanketing it in white and obscuring her view. It rolled forward before finally freezing a few feet from her. She held her breath for a moment as a wave of black beetles came scuttling out from underneath. They moved forward as one, surrounding her until she stood in the middle of a very small circle.
“Hello?”
The beetles stilled simultaneously. The only movement at her feet was their long antennas waving. One large beetle emerged from the group alone, not pausing for permission before it hurried up her leg. That was how it had begun last time, a single beetle. But then more had come until they had covered her completely in a mass of tiny feet and bodies. The lone beetle made its way to her shoulder and stopped. Kiora peered at it.
You told no one? it asked.
“No.”
The bug’s antennas waved wildly, but it didn’t say anything.
“I am looking for something,” Kiora ventured.
The magic that protects what you are looking for is strong. Only one may enter.
“I don’t know what you mean.” She was not sure what protections the beetle was referring to, but it made her nervous.
Only one may enter, it repeated. If you are not the one, there will be consequences.
Her breath caught. “You mean it will only allow a certain person in?”
Again the antennas waved wildly at her.
“And you don’t know if it’s me or not?”
The bug on her shoulder didn’t answer. It just stared at her with its large black eyes.
“What happens if I go with you and I am not the right person?” she asked.
You will d
ie.
Kiora blinked. Taking in a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. “Please take me to it.” Kiora was glad she was here alone. Explaining the possible consequence to Emane—or Alcander, for that matter—would not go well.
The mass of insects surrounding her broke into excited, meaningless chatter, surging back the way they had come. She felt the energy in the air as the beetle on her shoulder scurried down to join them.
They kept her surrounded, leading her into the mist. Kiora was silent. She saw nothing except the dark mass at her feet and could hear nothing over the excited chatter of her escorts. Even the sound of the sea lapping at the shore was drowned out. They moved for some time before the mist began to dissipate and her escorts stopped abruptly. In front of her stood a stone archway. There was nothing in front of it, nothing behind. Just a simple arch.
The beetles in front of her melted back and to the side, opening up a pathway. Kiora took a hesitant step forward. With her first footfall, the arch flared to life. Blue and green magical flame licked the edges of the stone, starting on one end and racing to the other. Kiora stumbled backwards. As soon as the flame had traveled the length of the arch, it dimmed, the stones themselves glowing as if heated from the inside.
Kiora’s shoulders had just started to relax when the stones began raining. Rivulets of pinks, greens, and blues showered down, creating a sheet of color. The magic popped and snapped with a most uncharacteristic sound. It was beautiful, and yet the magic flowing off it was powerful and most assuredly capable of the death sentence the beetles had promised.
“What do I do?” Kiora whispered.
Walk through, the mass below answered.
Kiora took a shuddering breath. She tried to urge her feet forward, but they didn’t move. The power of this gate was frightening. This was old magic, unlike anything she had ever felt. Her heart thumped wildly beneath her shirt and her fingers shook as she tucked her hair behind her ears. One foot finally jerked forward, and then the other. Her nose was nearly touching the sheet, the colors popping and moving before her eyes. Gritting her teeth, she took one final step, moving under the arch.
The magic grabbed her, holding her in place. Kiora had expected pain, but it did not come. What came instead were fingers prying into her mind and heart, peeling her open as they looked into her soul. She could feel whatever it was flipping through her memories, easily pushing aside Alcander’s presence to access everything.
Kiora gasped. The sheet of magic ran into her, filling her. She wanted to turn away, to spit, gag, gasp. But it held her perfectly still. She had never felt so exposed and vulnerable. And then it withdrew, the sheet of rain pulling itself up. Kiora fell to her knees upon its release, gasping for breath. Rolling into a ball, she wrapped her arms around her stomach, her muscles quivering.
“My exception,” breathed a voice Kiora knew from visions.
Pulling her head up, she blinked. She was in a room, a circular one made of the same stone from which the arch had been fashioned. The grass, the beetles, the sea—everything was gone. The room was empty except for her and a simple wooden box sitting in the middle of the floor.
Crawling forward, she knelt in front of the box. She reached out with trembling fingers and flipped open the elegant brass clasp that held the lid to the base. The hinges creaked as she pushed the lid up.
A bright light spilled out. Dropping it all the way back, Kiora stared into the box. There were two items inside. One looked like a fine mesh net made of gold tied tightly over something. Next to that lay what resembled a glowing pearl the size of a baby’s fist. The netted item sparked her curiosity, but something about the pearl caught her attention and she gravitated toward it almost unconsciously. Her fingers slid across the surface.
She didn’t have time to pull her hand away before a wave of thoughts and memories washed over her. Some of the memories were familiar—she had seen them in her visions. Only this time, instead of viewing them as an outsider, she looked through Nestor’s eyes.
Kiora watched the years go by in an instant. Jasmine grew from an infant to a toddler to an angry young woman whose immortal glow had been inadvertently taken. And then Kiora saw the plans Nestor had so carefully laid for her, the plans to stop his only daughter whom he loved more than anything.
Kiora saw the talisman Belen had made for the Solus and watched him carefully wrap it in the enchanted gold mesh to keep its powers neatly tucked away so Jasmine would never be alerted to its presence. She saw Nestor finalize plans of monstrous proportions, and then she watched as he used his daughter’s final betrayal to seal his magic.
Jasmine’s voice—the voice of the Shadow—echoed through her mind. “Make no mistake, I will live forever. But it is more than that now. I will make it my life’s work to punish every one of those pathetic creatures you loved more than your own daughter. I will destroy all the good you have worked so hard to create. You are blind to them. They take your gift and squander it. They’re ungrateful little ticks and you smile down at them as if they are amusing pets.”
And then Nestor’s voice. “I will always provide for an exception, Jasmine. If you do what you have come to do, things will be set into motion that you will not be able to stop. And in the end, it will be your undoing.”
Then Kiora was back in the stone room. She picked up the pearl. As she watched, it began melting before her eyes. The pearl grew smaller and thinner, but was not dripping over the side of her hand—it was melting into her, seeping through her skin. Kiora pulled in a deep breath as the knowledge contained within the pearl became her own. She could recall everything. The memories Nestor had encased within the pearl were now hers, as if she had performed the acts herself.
Nestor had put everything she would ever need to know inside the pearl and instructed Belen to bring it here after his death. The Creator had allowed his daughter to murder him. He held the pearl in his hands as his heart stopped beating to allow his memories to empty into it—all his plans, his hopes, and his utter belief that his exception would be able to stop Jasmine.
She moved to the box and gingerly picked up the talisman Belen had wrapped in gold mesh. A delicate chain unfolded, dangling down. From what she’d just learned from the pearl, she knew the mesh kept its powers contained. And she also knew that once she put it around her neck, it could not be summoned. The only way it could be removed was if Kiora removed it. The only way to destroy it was to reunite it with its other half, thus breaking any magical properties it had.
Still, knowing that Jasmine couldn’t summon it didn’t make Kiora in any more of a hurry to announce she had it. There were cards that needed to be played in the right order, and she wasn’t sure where this card fell. Reverently, Kiora slid the chain around her neck, placing the talisman under her shirt. It fell just above the blue sapphire the Guardians had given her.
Its contents removed, the box turned to powder. The stone walls and floor also dissolved, billowing around her like wisps of a lingering dream. All that remained was the heaviness under her shirt and a simple stone arch.
Pushing herself to her feet, Kiora realized she could feel magic flowing to her in the land of no magic.
Drustan came walking through the trees, grinning. “What did you do?”
“I found what we came for.”
“And the magic?” he asked, holding out his hands. “It has returned.”
Kiora smiled as the answer came to her from Nestor’s memories. “The magic never left. It was just being used to protect the only hope we have against Jasmine.”
“And now what? Where do we go from here?”
“I know how to get to the Wings of Nestor. I want to find the Lights.”
Drustan’s eyes flared. “Kiora, you can’t.”
“Why not? Drustan, do you have any idea how many lives this could save?”
“And do you have any idea the magnitude of the consequences you are playing with?” His voice rose, harsh and cold.
“Drustan—”
“No, Kiora. Do you know how many lives have been lost by those trying to avoid the parts they are meant to play? Fate is complicated. When you try to sidestep around it, there are consequences.”
“I am not trying to get around it, Drustan. The prophecy said I would return the Lights—that is what I am doing.”
“It also said you would defeat the Shadow. You are forgetting that part!”
“I am not forgetting that part.”
“Yes, you are. What do you think, Kiora? That while you attempt to retrieve the Lights Jasmine has managed to hide from everyone for a few thousand years, she is going to sit back and let you? The price will be high—higher than you are willing to pay. And that is just Jasmine’s price. The price fate will lay down to put you back on the proper path will be much higher.”
“Drustan!” Kiora yelled in frustration. “Fate is not a person! It can’t punish me for making my own choices!”