Wings of Nestor

by Walls, Devri

  Alcander and Emane exchanged a glance before Emane asked, “Where?”

  Kiora hesitated, trying to compare these modern maps with the memories she had received from Nestor. She brought her finger down in almost the exact location Emane had just been trying to convince Alcander to use.

  Alcander sank into a chair, running his fingers through his hair. “By the Creators, it doesn’t matter what we do—there is always something in the way.”

  “What is the problem?” Kiora asked.

  “There is no way we can maintain a magical barrier there. And that problem is only secondary—the first being, we can’t get to it.” He pushed himself up, slamming his finger into the map. “The enemy is thick there and there. The area is heavily trafficked and heavily protected. It is not possible.”

  “No.” Kiora shook her head, pointing to the valley Alcander had been so violently indicating. “Not there. There.” She tapped right on the blue lake.

  Drustan and Lomay came in quietly, Lomay looking over Kiora’s shoulder while Drustan dropped disinterestedly into a chair.

  Kiora grinned at the group. “Nestor built an entire city underground. Under that lake.”

  “Under the lake? Truly?” Lomay said.

  “Yes. The water hid the traces of magic he used to create it so Jasmine wouldn’t find it. There are ten entrances spinning out like this.” With her finger, she drew long spindles coming out from the lake like wagon-wheel spokes. “Nine can only be opened from the inside, leaving no magical traces. Nestor crafted the outside entrance with two protections. One: you have to know the right enchantment. And two: you have to have this.” She held up the talisman.

  Alcander leaned on the table, his long hair hanging down and hiding his face. “How do you know all this?”

  “Nestor left me his memories, as if they are my own. Everything he needed me to know is in here now.” She tapped the side of her head.

  Alcander turned to look at her, scowling.

  “What?’

  “There is only one way to do that,” Lomay said. “He would have needed to give up his life for you.”

  Sinking back into her chair, she whispered, “He did. Nestor let Jasmine kill him. It was the only way to put the preparations in place to defeat her.”

  The room was quiet as Emane silently eased himself into a chair.

  “He used every bit of magic to create everything—the city, the talisman, the protections. When Jasmine killed him, it finalized the magic. His palace sank and the city gates under the lake sealed. After Jasmine left, Belen took the talisman and Nestor’s memories to Meros.”

  “Did he know?” Alcander asked hoarsely. “Did he know how long it would be before you came—how many would die?”

  She didn’t want to answer—he wouldn’t understand. “Yes,” she said.

  Alcander’s hands clenched into fists, his jaw tight.

  Emane leaned over the map. “Where is the tenth entrance?”

  “There.” Kiora tore her eyes off Alcander to point to a place out of the valley to the north.

  Alcander sprang into action. “There?” He slammed his finger down next to Kiora’s.

  Kiora jerked back, eyes wide at the outburst.

  Alcander stared at the location, his shoulders pulled up nearly to his ears. “It makes sense,” he finally said, his shoulders slowly lowering. “For years this place had huge numbers of guards that never moved. Then one day, the guards vanished, and in their place stood a huge black castle, completely uninhabited, near as we can tell from the air. It is guarded by an Illusionist, we think—you can feel its thread. Not that it would be needed, considering the other security measures the villages use. We imagined the Shadow was involved because no one goes there, just like the Manor.”

  “Jasmine doesn’t know what it is,” Kiora thought out loud. “She just knows it has something to do with Nestor, so she is guarding it.”

  Alcander returned to his scowling, this time directing it at the map.

  “I have to go in through that entrance—it’s the only way. But we could have Lomay waiting at one of the others with the women and children. As soon as we are inside, we can open the other door, and once they are safe, we can go after the Wings of Nestor.”

  “Where are the Wings?” Emane asked.

  “Right where Jasmine thinks they are,” Kiora said. “Right where the Dragon Queen suspected.”

  Alcander swore. “Did Nestor leave plans for how to get through their defenses?”

  “No, he didn’t need to. There is an entrance to a tunnel that leads to the Wings. It’s close to where they are digging, but far enough away that we should be able to do it.”

  “Then what?” Emane asked. “After we have the people hidden and we get to the Wings?”

  Kiora took a deep breath. She had been mentally running through this the entire way home from Meros. “The Wings will be able to show us where Jasmine hid the Lights. It’s why she wants them so badly—they are the only record left. After we get the Lights, she won’t have her power or her immortality. If she still wants to go to war without those advantages—” Kiora squared her shoulders. “Then we will.”

  Lomay surveyed the map. “It will be dangerous, bringing everyone to wait outside the door. The people will be nervous. I will need Emane to come with me.”

  “What? Why?” Emane demanded.

  “It will do the people good to see you. They need to remember that their Solus and their Protector are still fighting for them.”

  Emane narrowed his eyes, appraising Lomay. “That’s not why. That’s just a reason you don’t think I can argue with.”

  Lomay’s eyes laughed. “I continue to underestimate you.”

  “You and everyone else,” Emane said.

  “You have to be able to mask your thread to get where they are going, and that, my boy, is outside the realm of possibility for you, I am afraid.”

  Kiora felt the color draining from her face. Alcander had tried to teach her to mask her thread once at the island camp on Lake Everleen. It had been disastrous.

  Alcander caught Kiora’s eye before explaining, “The area has heavy security. The only way to get to this entrance is to walk straight through one of the villages. I would suggest this one.” He pointed. “With this new information, it is clear that the security is not random. Jasmine is trying to keep everyone away from the castle. The other entrances to the city are far enough away that Lomay should be able to sneak the people around the populated areas—assuming no more traps have been laid since we last scouted.”

  “Why can’t we just fly over?” Emane asked. “You already said it had been scouted from the air.”

  “We did, from higher than will be of any use to us. They have security measures that fire randomly. Making it from here to there without popping a bubble or triggering something would be nothing short of a miracle.”

  Kiora fought nausea as she imagined trying to mask her thread again, but she couldn’t think of any other way.

  “I will call Arturo to take you and Lomay where you need to go,” she said.

  Emane crossed his arms, clearly displeased.

  “Am I to assume I have been voted in on this foolhardy mission of yours?” Drustan asked.

  “We need a Shifter,” Kiora said.

  “How lovely for me.”

  “Drustan.” Lomay’s voice held a warning tone.

  Drustan stood, his eyes locked on Kiora. “Let it be known, I do not agree with this. Not with the mission or the way you are going about it. I will keep my mouth shut from here on out, I will stand by your side, and I will do what needs to be done. And I truly hope the day never comes where I have to say I told you so.” Keeping his head high, he left the room.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Confessions

  KIORA STOOD ON THE balcony of her room in a nightdress that was far too lightweight for the chill of night. Fall had taken a firm hold on the land and the promise of snow whispered on the wind. She wrapped her arms
around herself. The warm blankets of her bed and the fire crackling in the fireplace beckoned to her, but she couldn’t bring herself to go in. Instead, she breathed in the salty air, trying to sort out her thoughts. She felt strange, as if her mind had become public property. She could feel Alcander’s protection wrapped around it, and now Nestor’s thoughts and memories swooped and intertwined with hers. It was immensely uncomfortable. A smile ghosted across her lips. Perhaps she did understand Alcander just a little. She closed her eyes and listened to the waves crashing in and out, relaxing.

  As Alcander’s thread moved from his room into the hall, she couldn’t help but turn her head expectantly. But when he walked past her bedroom door, disappointment dropped into her chest like a rock. She felt him go down the stairs and past the meeting room. She saw him stride into the yard below. He stopped and looked up at her, holding her gaze for a few tension-filled moments before turning and walking to the edge of the cliff.

  Kiora grabbed a jacket and shoved her feet into boots. She looked ridiculous, she knew, but she was too tired and distracted to care. Making her way down the stairs, she followed the path Alcander had taken outside.

  Walking across the grass, Kiora came up next to him, joining his silent vigil as they stared out to sea.

  “I am going to miss this place,” she said. “The sea is relaxing.”

  “It is,” he agreed.

  “So…” Kiora cleared her throat, smoothing down her jacket. “What are you using the sea for this evening? What thoughts are you trying to push away?”

  Alcander glanced sidelong at her. “How could Nestor have known we would suffer, how many would die, and allow it?”

  Kiora slid her hand sympathetically down Alcander’s arm. “I don’t know everything. I can feel holes in the memories he left me—he only gave me what he thought I needed to know. But I do know that Nestor searched through many different plans. He began to carry out the plans so he could receive visions of the results. No matter what he did, they always failed and everyone was lost. This was the only way.” She searched his face. “You look tired.”

  He coughed a short laugh. “Do I?”

  She evaluated his stance. “Yes. Your shoulders are lower—here.” She delicately touched his shoulder. “Your back is slouched. And your eyes…” She ran her finger over his cheekbone and he shuddered beneath her touch. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, pulling her hand back.

  “Don’t be sorry.” His voice was thick and husky. “I am tired. I have spent my whole life being angry.”

  Kiora clenched the side of her coat to keep from running her fingers over his face again. “I have never understood that. How could you be filled with so much anger and remain on the right side?”

  Alcander was quiet for a long time, his brows furrowed in thought. His mouth opened and then closed. A choking sound came out, but still no words. He looked to her desperately, tears swimming in his eyes.

  Kiora grabbed his elbows as she frantically searched his face, trying to decipher what just happened. “Alcander! What’s the matter?”

  Look, Alcander’s voice pleaded in her head. Please. I can’t say it. As his words came, so did everything else. And then she saw.

  He felt boiling fury that his people were not protected, that the Solus had failed to appear—especially when the years rolled past and the deaths piled up. The anger was so intense at times that he had considered walking away and joining the Shadow’s forces.

  The only thing that had kept Alcander from joining with evil was the most horrible event in his life—watching his family be massacred by black-haired Taveans. Feeling their dark threads as they slowly and painfully stole the lives of his mother and sisters was the only thing that overshadowed his anger for not being protected by a Solus. And now everything, all the beliefs he had so carefully constructed, were shattering with the understanding that the event he had spent his whole life wishing could be undone was exactly what had saved him.

  Out of respect, Kiora pulled herself out of Alcander’s head without diving deeper into his thoughts and feelings. Alcander gasped as if coming up from deep water, dropping to his knees before her. His eyes looked skyward, a single tear rolling down his cheek. That tear, on his stoic face, crushed Kiora’s heart. Falling to her knees beside him, she grabbed him, embracing him as tightly as she could.

  They stayed like that for some time before Alcander gently pulled away. There was no trace of the emotion that had gripped him minutes before, but the lines of his face seemed to have softened just slightly. She reached out, her fingers tracing over his cheekbones and eyebrows. “You look different.”

  Alcander wrapped his fingers around hers, pulling them to his lips. Kiora closed her eyes as he kissed her fingers and then the top of her hand, sending magic bursting through her with a new intensity.

  “I feel different,” he murmured against her skin before pulling her to her feet. “Come, it is time you went to bed. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

  Alcander held her hand as he led her to her room. Stopping at her door, Kiora turned to look at him.

  “Good night, Kiora, and thank you.” His voice was low and husky.

  She swallowed hard. “Good night, Alcander.”

  He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “There is not another person who could have done what you have done for me.”

  “Oh,” Kiora said, blushing, “I am sure that someone—”

  He put a finger on her lips, cutting her off. “No one,” he repeated. Moving in slowly, almost as if he were scared of her, he gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead.

  “Good night,” she whispered.

  “Good night.” Resting his forehead on hers, Alcander reached behind her, opening the door. Grudgingly, Kiora backed inside the room with Alcander watching her intently, his blue eyes blazing. Without a word, he grabbed the doorknob and eased the door shut.

  The click of the latch echoed through the room. She felt his thread standing on the other side for a moment before finally moving down the hall.

  Kiora’s breath rushed out in a wave of disappointment. Biting her lip, she fell into bed, not bothering to take off her jacket. Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, trying to sort through her feelings. Then a knock at the door sent her flying out of bed, heart stuttering with the realization that Emane’s thread stood just outside. He must have heard them in the hall.

  She cringed as the door swung open. Emane’s hands were in his pockets, his blond hair falling over his forehead.

  “I told myself I wasn’t going to do this,” he whispered. “But here I am. May I?”

  There was a part of her that wanted to scream “No!” She wasn’t ready for this. But she nodded, plopping weakly onto the edge of her bed.

  Emane shut the door, his hand remaining on the knob as if he wasn’t sure whether he should stay or run. “I told myself I could do this,” he started, his back to her. “That I could give you the time you needed to make your choice. But…I don’t know if I can. And now you are leaving again, and…” He turned around, his eyes bright with pain.

  “Emane.” Kiora stood on shaking legs, wanting to reach out to him, to comfort his worst fears. But she couldn’t. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to ask,” she choked out. “I should have—”

  Emane inhaled sharply, cutting her off. “You already know the answer, don’t you?”

  She reached for his hand, only wanting to comfort him, but pulled back as her magic began to flow in anticipation. “I love you. I will always love you.”

  “Please,” Emane said bitterly. “Don’t start it this way—it doesn’t make it any better.”

  “What do you want me to say?” she cried. “That I can’t stand you? That I am so glad things aren’t working out?”

  “I don’t know—maybe! Because every time you say you love me, you rip my heart out.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “I am not going to lie to you, Emane. I do love you and if things were different, then—I don’t know—maybe n
one of this would have ever happened.”

  “If what things were different? You mean if Alcander wasn’t here?”

  “No! If things were different. If I could touch you, hug you. If I could kiss you without throwing you into a wall. What if I killed you one of these times and—don’t shake your head at me,” she yelled. “You don’t know any more than I do what could happen.”

  Looking away, she clenched her fists. “I can’t even get near you, Emane. I don’t know what else to do—when you touch me, it takes every ounce of strength I have not to send magic through you. I see the way your face drains, how much it hurts when my magic slips. If I didn’t love you it wouldn’t be a problem, but I do! And it is!”

  “Maybe in time—”

  “No!”

  The desperate look on his face almost stopped her, but she plunged forward. “It won’t get better. In time, I would just love you more and it will be even worse. Time isn’t going to solve anything. Time is half the problem.” She regretted the words the second they left.