Wings of Nestor

by Walls, Devri

Drustan’s nostrils flared. “Get on.” He morphed back into the creature she had arrived upon. “I already gave you my opinion when you first mentioned this madness, and had I known this crazy idea was still rolling around in that head of yours, I would have made sure someone knocked it out before I brought you here.”

  “Drustan!”

  “You are playing with fire, Kiora. You are going to tell Lomay exactly what it is you are planning.”

  Kiora lurched as Drustan took the sky.

  “We can talk to Eleana—we are already here.”

  “Oh, Eleana is the last person you need to be talking to. She has played with fire and lost more times than she will admit.”

  Kiora frowned as Drustan’s wings grew larger, pushing them forward faster. After the pass of Meros was long behind them, Kiora asked, “Are we not talking for the next couple of days?”

  “Why bother? You ignore every sensible thing I say.”

  “I do not! Drustan, I have always listened to your advice. I am the one who is always telling Emane he should listen to you as well. This is the only thing I have ever—”

  “And it is the most foolish thing you have ever done. You cannot avoid your destiny, Kiora.”

  “But what if it’s not my destiny?” she shouted over the wind. “What if I am supposed to get the Lights back before the battle? What if getting the Lights back stops the battle? We don’t know.”

  Drustan shook his head. “And what? You think you can take the Lights back and Jasmine will just sink into the recesses and die quietly? Anyone who seeks power like she has will never let it go. It has become part of her, Kiora. She has to be stopped.”

  “I will stop her! What happened to trusting me?” she demanded. “You and Emane are always saying to trust me. Why not now?”

  Drustan’s head swiveled back to look at her. “Because you have always been on the right path. And when you are on the right path, help will be afforded in unexpected and even unexplained ways. But you are veering from the path, Kiora. You must feel that.”

  She bit her lip, looking away. His concern nagged at her. What if her plan backfired? But what if it didn’t? It was a gamble—one she couldn’t afford not to take.

  ***

  EMANE STRIPPED OFF HIS shirt with some effort. The tight material stuck to his sweaty chest like a second skin.

  Alcander scowled at him. “That is meant for protection.”

  “Oh, is that so?” Emane held the shirt in the air with one hand while placing his sword in the neck and slitting it right down the middle. “It doesn’t do a whole lot of good against a sword.”

  Alcander processed this for a minute before burying his sword into the ground and stripping off his shirt as well.

  Emane positioned his sword out in front, his body turned at an angle. “Ready to go again?”

  Alcander faced him and Emane attacked, striking with as much energy as his exhausted arms could manage. He wasn’t about to let Alcander know he was tired.

  Alcander stepped in for his own attack but Emane easily countered, swatting him on the back with his sword. “Dead.”

  Alcander growled, whirling to face him. “I have been at this for days—I should have it by now.”

  “Witows train for years,” Emane said, circling him. “Maybe if you could let go of the idea that you are inherently better than me, it would be less aggravating to you.”

  Alcander lunged. The swords shrieked as metal slid against metal. He leaned in, pushing the flat edge of his blade against Emane’s, trying to drive him into submission by sheer force. Emane left one hand on his sword to keep Alcander at bay while he slipped the other hand to his belt. In one quick movement, Emane had his dagger pressed into the skin under Alcander’s chin.

  “Dead again,” Emane said. “You shouldn’t get so close to your opponent—it opens you up to a host of other moves.”

  Alcander jerked back, fire blazing in his eyes.

  “Maybe we should take a break?”

  Alcander slumped before flopping to the ground in such disregard for his normally stiff posture that it was almost comical. “Fighting like a Witow,” he breathed, his eyes closed, “is exhausting.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Emane said dryly. “My magic only aids my fighting. I can’t use it to blow someone off their feet with a flick of my little finger.”

  “That is a shame. Much easier, and faster.” He looked up at Emane through one eye. “Aren’t you tired?”

  Emane contemplated lying, but instead chose avoidance. “You’re getting better.”

  Alcander grunted.

  Emane grinned. “Was that a thank you?”

  “No.”

  “Of course it wasn’t. In that case, let’s go again. You can’t train others if you can’t do it yourself.”

  Alcander looked at his sword with clear distaste before grabbing it. Emane lunged at him and Alcander moved to the side, leaving his arm wide open. Emane took the window and caught him with the face of his blade again.

  “Diagonal, Alcander! Not to the side. I know that is how you are used to avoiding magical attacks, but when avoiding attacks from a sword, you have to keep yourself covered—with your sword. It is both your defense and your protection. Watch. When I move to the side, my body is vulnerable. If I move diagonally, I can keep my sword between you and me. Look, you have a natural fighting ability—we just have to adapt it to a new style.”

  “You certainly have gotten complimentary,” Alcander said dryly.

  “Fine.” Emane held his sword at the ready. “You are the worst fighter I have ever seen. I would rather train a pig. Surely they can wield those tusks better than any sword I could put in your incapable hands.” Emane swung his sword, catching the underside of Alcander’s blade and disarming him with a twist of his wrist.

  Alcander snorted and then started laughing. Emane grinned. He was growing more accustomed to Alcander’s laughter. These last few days, it had made an occasional appearance.

  As his laughter subsided, Alcander grew serious. “How are we going to do this, Emane—train all the rebels? It is taking forever to teach me.”

  “We will need to train a select group first, as I am training you. Then we can send them out to teach the others. They can practice stances and moves in large groups before sparring. I would like you to decide who we should train as captains.”

  Alcander jerked his head in indication that Emane should follow. He walked out to the edge of the cliff.

  “I find the waves calming,” Alcander said in explanation to Emane’s quizzical look as he turned his face to the wind. The breeze blew the long hair back off his shoulders.

  Emane understood. There was something hypnotic about the constant motion of the water.

  “How many captains will we need?”Alcander asked.

  “I suggest one captain to every fifty, for now.”

  Alcander nodded. After a long pause, he added, “You’re a lot smarter than I gave you credit for.”

  “Yes, I am. There are many things you fail to give me credit for. I am good-looking, funny, and I kick your butt in swordplay nine times out of ten.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “I am sure there are more, if you will just give me a minute.”

  “You’re arrogant,” Alcander added to the list.

  “Arrogant?” Emane scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I am simply very aware of my skills.”

  “Isn’t that by definition arrogance?”

  “Hmm, no.” Emane shook his head before something on the horizon caught his eye. “What is that?”

  Alcander scanned, focusing in on the black spots standing out against the setting sun before glancing back over his shoulder. Emane followed his gaze to the old man making his way toward them. Threads—why couldn’t his armband help him feel threads?

  “The Shadow is calling her forces,” Lomay announced. “Those are warships.”

  “Warships?” Emane asked. “Whose?”

  “Ultimately, they are the Shadow’s,” Alcander said.
“But they have been called in by my uncle.” The word “uncle” was laced with animosity.

  Lomay joined them. The three stood staring at the incoming ships, an ominous silence settling between them.

  “You were right, Alcander. Kiora has gained the Shadow’s full attention,” Lomay said. “A war is on the horizon.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Deviation

  DRUSTAN STORMED THROUGH THE house, Kiora at his heels. He threw open the doors and yelled to Lomay, who was staring out to sea with Emane and Alcander. “Lomay! We need to speak with you immediately.”

  Kiora tried not to feel like a child who had just been tattled on. She squared her shoulders, strengthening her resolve. This was the right thing to do and she would not apologize for her choice.

  At the sight of Kiora, Alcander and Emane jogged ahead of Lomay’s trudging steps. Emane, smiling from ear to ear. Alcander, a solemn mix of both relief and worry.

  “Were we right?” Emane asked anxiously. “Was it there?”

  Kiora nodded, grinning, as she pulled the gold-mesh-covered talisman from beneath her shirt.

  Emane whooped and Alcander sagged with relief.

  “That is wonderful…” Lomay trailed off as he looked the agitated Shifter up and down. “What is the problem, Drustan?”

  “We need to talk. Now.”

  Everyone was clearly puzzled by Drustan’s mood, given what appeared to be a moment to celebrate. “Come on,” Alcander said, moving toward the door. “We can talk inside.”

  “No,” Drustan said. “Not you. Just Lomay.”

  “We have to start planning,” Emane objected.

  “No!” Drustan shouted. “Lomay, please.”

  Lomay evaluated Drustan with careful eyes before turning to Alcander. “Why don’t you and Emane head into the study and continue your planning? The three of us will join you shortly.”

  It was apparent neither of them liked the idea, but they both made their way inside. Kiora noticed with some curiosity that they walked closer together than they normally did, and spoke to each other in civilized tones. What happened while she had been gone?

  Lomay waited until the doors to the study clicked shut before asking, “What is it?”

  Drustan shoved his hands in his pockets. “I will let Kiora tell you what she has been scheming.”

  “Scheming!”

  “Yes, Kiora, scheming. Now tell him,” Drustan ordered.

  Kiora pursed her lips, glaring at Drustan. “I can get to the Wings of Nestor. I think we should retrieve the Lights first.”

  Lomay’s eyes burrowed into her. “Why?”

  “If we can get the Lights, maybe we can avoid a war. And ultimately, it’s the only way to stop her. As long as she has the Lights, she remains immortal.”

  “You have put a lot of thought into this. Come with me.” Lomay made his way back to the edge of the cliff. “See what’s out there?”

  Kiora looked out at the two large ships sailing across the ocean.

  “Those are warships. Capable of carrying those not gifted with flight to launch magical assaults on those who are. The Winged People, dragons, Pegasi. Their range is long enough that if the fighting is done anywhere between here and Tavea, they will be of use. Not only are the occupants deadly in skill and accuracy, but the ship is able to both protect itself and launch magic even I would be wise to fear. The aerial assaults are something I hoped never to see again. Alcander also told me of the forces being gathered in Tavea. You have caught her attention, Kiora. Jasmine will not let this go. You are far too much of a danger to her.”

  The sight of the warships had the opposite effect Lomay was intending. “But what if we took her power? What if she didn’t have the Lights to pull from? The field could be evened.”

  “Even so, that is not truly what you are after. Is it?”

  Kiora hesitated, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t want anyone to die. Not by the Shadow, not by me, and not at the hands of things like that.” She pointed to the ships. “Please, Lomay. Alcander told me what you said about visions.”

  Drustan stilled at this, looking expectantly toward Lomay as the old man rubbed his chin. “Did he? And what exactly did he say?”

  “You said, ‘To resign oneself to visions was foolishness,’ and that ‘Things are not always what they seem.’”

  “Yes.” Lomay leaned forward on his walking stick. “I said those things.”

  “There are so many unknowns, Lomay. We have to try. If we can get the Lights back, we might be able to avoid the war.”

  “And if you can’t avoid the war?”

  “Then we can’t be any worse off than we already are. We would have the Lights to pull from and maybe we could learn to harness the power, as Jasmine has. At the very least, they might give the people back some hope.”

  “Kiora,” Lomay began softly, “Alcander is right—I did say those things. And I said them all for very good reasons. But Drustan is also right—you cannot avoid your destiny. Resigning yourself to a vision is different from embracing your path.”

  “I don’t see the difference.”

  “I am sure you don’t, and neither does Alcander. Resigning is to give up, to stop trying to find a better way.”

  “But that is exactly what I am doing! I am trying to find a better way.”

  “No.” Lomay shook his head. “You are trying to find a different path. By going after the Lights first, you are putting the rebels in danger. Jasmine will know the moment one is removed from its hiding place and she will not let it go unpunished.”

  “Kiora,” Drustan pleaded. “If you stay on the path Lomay foresaw, we will have the advantage of choosing the time and place for war. That, with the talisman, offers hope of possible success.”

  Lomay looked at the determined set of Kiora’s jaw before slumping over his staff. “Do what you must. Go tell Emane and Alcander where we are going from here.”

  Kiora rushed forward, embracing Lomay before running toward the house.

  ***

  “WHAT ABOUT HERE?” EMANE asked, tapping a valley on the map. “We could gather here.”

  “Not possible,” Alcander answered.

  “Why not? It’s perfect. There are rebel camps here, here, and here. Also two this direction and one over here.”

  “Yes, and this”—Alcander brushed his hand in a full circle between the camps and the valley—“is one of highest-populated areas you could have picked. And they are not populated with anyone friendly.”

  Emane’s eyes flitted around the map. “Why, in the name of Nestor, would you place your camps so close to the enemy?”

  “The enemy assumes we could not possibly be so foolish. As a result, they never look for us there. ”

  “By that argument, this would be the perfect location.” Emane tapped the valley.

  “No, it wouldn’t.” Alcander pointed to a large spot of blue. “This lake is not only used for water, but for fishing. It would only be a matter of time before someone accidentally walked through our magical barriers, especially since there are no natural formations to prevent it. It is just trees and grass.”

  Emane swore, leaning back in his chair. “Alcander, we have been all over this map trying to find a spot to train, and according to you, it is not possible.”

  “Don’t you think if there was a place to keep everyone safely together, we would have done it? We have separated thousands of families—we would not have done that if it weren’t necessary.”

  “I understand that, but now it is necessary to have everyone together.”

  “I do not have a solution, Emane.”

  Kiora burst through the door, smiling at them both. The weight that had settled so heavily upon her shoulders felt like it had lifted, just a bit, for the first time since she had realized the state of the people on this side of the mountain.

  Emane’s eyes moved to the talisman around her neck. “I was right, then. We are going to have a battle of Witows.”

  Alcand
er blanched.

  Kiora hesitated, worried his response would be like Drustan’s. “I have some new information that I think might be able to prevent a war.”

  “How are we going to do that? They are already dispatching war ships,” Emane asked, genuinely confused.

  “I know where the Wings of Nestor are.”

  Alcander looked stunned, but didn’t have time to ask where they were before Emane blurted, “How is that going to help?”

  “Because they can tell us where Jasmine hid the Lights, and we are going after them.”

  Alcander blinked as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His stunned look faded to bewilderment. “Lomay knows?”

  “Yes.” She could not ignore Emane’s deflated posture. It wasn’t that he wanted war—she knew that. But he had finally felt useful, and she had just ripped that away from him.

  Alcander shook his head. “Kiora, you know I want this as much as you do, but it’s too late. Armies are being gathered—the war ships are practically at our back door. Now that she has returned, Jasmine will destroy the rebels before we get to the Lights.”

  Kiora was bursting to tell them everything she had learned in Meros. She would have told Drustan if he hadn’t been so busy either yelling at her or not speaking to her. Leaning over the table, she scanned the maps for the city she saw in Nestor’s memories. “Nestor put as many preparations in place as he could before he died, taking into account his visions of Jasmine and what she would do.” She glanced up at Alcander. “He built us a safe place to gather the people. I think we should move the women and children there in case Jasmine figures out what we are doing and launches her attack. It will keep them safe, but leave the others available to help if we need it.”