Wings of Nestor

by Walls, Devri

  “What is that?” Emane asked, his eyes darting around the ceiling.

  “The diggers,” Alcander said. “They are getting closer.”

  This could not be happening. After all this time, Jasmine was about to find the palace—with them locked inside it. “Show us the Lights,” Kiora demanded.

  The Wings immediately responded, flaring so brightly Kiora almost lost hold of the block. The group turned their heads, throwing their arms over their eyes.

  The light subsided and Kiora looked back to see the Shadow flying over the land, just as she had seen in the Wings of Tavea. They watched it slam into the sand dune, burying the Light deep within. Jasmine wrapped the Light in cords and it went out. It flared again only under Jasmine’s touch, sending power up her arm, giving her immortality.

  The Wings switched to the next hiding place as a scream erupted around the throne room, black magic showering over her block. The cold seeped into her as Jasmine’s power tried to penetrate, but couldn’t get through.

  The Wings showed the Shadow gliding down a street that looked familiar.

  Alcander’s shocked step forward let her know where she had seen this place before. Tavea.

  The Shadow moved through the streets and around the castle to a large stone building in the back, the one Kiora had noticed from the sky with the orb sitting atop. The doors swung open before Jasmine and she disappeared inside.

  “What is that?” Kiora asked.

  “The royal crypt,” Alcander said, his voice shaking. The Shadow sank through a door in the floor that stood wide open. “What? That is never open!”

  Kiora glanced to Alcander in confusion as another round of Jasmine’s power accosted her block.

  Lomay answered everyone’s unspoken question. “The bones of the first Tavean king lie in that crypt. It is the most sacred site in Tavea and only accessible with the staff. The bones of the king and the staff are connected, allowing the kings to draw from its power if needed.”

  The Shadow slid inside, wrapping another one of the Lights in cords before laying it in the glass coffin of the first Tavean king.

  “How did she open that door?” Alcander demanded, louder this time.

  “Alcander, no!” Kiora yelled as the Wings stuttered with his question and redirected to answer.

  The Wings focused in on the hills above Tavea. Jasmine stood, free of her shadowy covering, a red silk cloak billowing behind her. In front of her stood a Tavean.

  “Aimon!” Alcander hissed. His uncle, the false king of Tavea.

  “The Domats have become problematic,” Jasmine said. “I need a new hiding place for one of the Lights” Her eyes strayed down the hill, coming to rest on the crypt.

  Aimon evaluated her, his hair already gone dark. “I can probably convince my brother to open the door. But I want something in return” Aimon tilted his head to the side, his mouth twisting. “I want Tavea. I want to be king.”

  “And your brother?”

  Aimon smirked. “I will deal with my brother.”

  “And those who oppose you?”

  “There are many prisons under the palace.”

  Alcander’s attention jerked to Lomay, his eyes wide.

  Kiora was ready to ask the Wings where the next Light was hidden when the picture switched again.

  “Remember,” Aimon whispered to a small army. “Give me time to get the king before you attack. Throw any who resist in the dungeons. Dispose of the royal family. No one must survive.” Aimon waved a hand over his hair, returning it to its previous white state before running into the castle.

  Aimon and Alcander’s father ran toward the crypt as the dark-haired Taveans stormed the castle. As soon as the door was open, Aimon knocked the true king across the room, taking the staff from his hands before cracking it against the side of his head. The king was dead.

  “Enough!” Alcander screamed. “Stop!” His whole body was shaking.

  Kiora was starting to weaken. Her magic was going out, but by virtue of the spell, none was coming in. She couldn’t hold this forever. “Where are the rest of the Lights?” she asked the Wings.

  The Wings focused back on the Shadow zipping across a snow-covered land devoid of trees.

  Above them, a clang sounded through the room as something metal connected with the roof of the palace.

  Kiora looked up as the tool hit again, reverberating through the room. They had to get out before…She didn’t finish her thought before the palace jostled.

  The Wings showed the Shadow still flowing over snow, mountain peaks coming into view in the distance.

  Kiora could feel things shifting under their feet and then she was free-falling as the entire palace dropped through the earth. Kiora started to scream before remembering the stakes. She shoved all her energy into the block.

  The Wings were still replaying what she had asked as the palace jerked to a sudden stop. Everyone was knocked off their feet and sent rolling across the marble floor like toys. Emane collided with Kiora first, followed by Drustan’s head connecting with hers with a crack. The block failed instantly.

  Seeing spots, Kiora pushed Drustan to the side, frantically trying to reestablish the spell. But it was too late. A laugh swirled in and the Wings turned black. Jasmine had done it, just as she had with the Wings of Tavea. All evidence of Jasmine and where she hid the Lights was gone, wiped from the only remaining record.

  Kiora ran to the Wings. “Show me the Lights!” she demanded. Only black.

  “It’s no use, Kiora. It’s gone,” Lomay said from behind her.

  “No.” She slammed her hands into the Wings. “No!”

  Lomay looked up to the ceiling. “That explains why Jasmine can’t get to the palace. Every time they find it, it sinks.”

  “Where do we go from here?” Drustan asked gently from behind her.

  Kiora’s fingers slid off the gold feathers, tears running down her cheeks. She had failed. It was her fault. They only knew where two of the Lights were, but maybe…She wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “We have to get what we can. If we can get the two Lights we know about, it will weaken her. And maybe with those Lights, we can find the power to track down the rest.” She was grasping at straws, but she didn’t care. “We go to Tavea first.”

  Alcander gave a deliberate, dangerous nod.

  “Kiora, Tavea is a stronghold,” Drustan said.

  “Yes, a stronghold that is probably holding Taveans who are on our side.” Whirling back to the Wings, she said, “Show me the dungeons of Tavea.”

  Since Aimon, not the Shadow, had been the one to imprison the people, the record remained and the Wings obliged, showing a dismal world of underfed, dirty, but completely light-haired Taveans.

  Alcander strode murderously toward the Wings, coming alongside Kiora. “Did you know they were there?” he demanded, turning on Lomay. “Did you?”

  “No.” Lomay shook his head. “When Tavea fell, I assumed as you did—that all those left inside had turned.”

  “My people will not suffer anymore,” Alcander breathed. “We will get them out.”

  Lomay looked tired as he slumped forward. “And your uncle?”

  “I’m going to kill him.”

  The lethality in his tone made Kiora shiver.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Found

  KIORA! ARTURO’S VOICE INTERRUPTED. The boundary is faltering—the Shadow is coming.

  Get out of there, Arturo. Now!

  I will lead them straight to you.

  It doesn’t matter. Your thread will be exposed in a minute anyway. Get high enough that they can’t find you. Drustan will get the rest of us out.

  Kiora swallowed. They were in trouble. “The Shadow is coming. We need to get out of here. Drustan, can you get us back up this tunnel? Fast?”

  Drustan began shifting immediately. “I can’t take all four,” he said as his mouth elongated into a black muzzle. “We won’t fit through the tunnel on a creature that size.”

&nb
sp; “I’ll travel myself,” Lomay said before vanishing.

  What she wouldn’t give to be able to do that.

  Drustan, now a large black dog, stood taller than Kiora.

  “Get on,” he growled.

  He galloped off, his claws clicking across the polished marble floor as they left the throne room and made a quick turn back into the tunnel that was now even steeper than before. His powerful legs slogged awkwardly through the mud. His long limbs and the extra weight he carried caused him to sink into the water-logged earth.

  The sinking of the palace had sent them even closer to the water table—each of Drustan’s imprints filled immediately with brown water. The moments dragged on as he struggled until he finally scrambled up onto firmer ground and tore through the tunnel. Kiora pushed fire into her hand, holding it out as best as she could to light the path.

  They are coming, Kiora. A patrol from the slave camp.

  Lomay stood just to the corner of the exit, his head cocked to the side.

  Kiora leaped off Drustan. “We have to hurry,” she shouted. “The patrol is almost —” Her words were abruptly cut off as she smashed into an invisible wall. She bounced backwards, her face stinging from the impact.

  Lomay reached out, tapping at whatever she had just run into. “It is sealed.”

  Kiora rubbed her sore nose. “You could have mentioned that a moment ago,” she snapped.

  Lomay was still examining the wall. “I wasn’t expecting you to run at it,” he murmured. “My apologies.”

  “We have to get out of here. We don’t have time for this!”

  Lomay stepped out of the way as Kiora held out her hands, throwing a burst of magic. The wall flashed white and then returned to its previous see-through state.

  “As I suspected.” Lomay smiled. “It absorbs magic. Brilliant.”

  “But why would Nestor lock us in here?” Emane asked.

  “For our own protection, I would imagine,” Lomay said as Tavean and Shifter slave guards began pouring into the temple room.

  Kiora held her breath as the first few scanned the room before spreading out. No one seemed to notice the five of them standing a few feet away.

  “They can’t see us,” Alcander said. “Why?”

  Lomay shrugged. “I have never seen anything like this. Nestor placed some extraordinary feats of magic in his plan. Every step amazes me. This wall was designed to open for the Solus and only the Solus. Now it looks as if it is protecting her when danger approaches.”

  The room was now packed with both Shifters and Taveans as a dark, swirling shadow slid down the stairs. Although the room was full of her followers, it was obvious none of them had seen her before. They stared at Jasmine’s shadowy covering, some with rapt awe, others with ill-hidden terror.

  Jasmine paused, turning toward the depiction of the Dragon Queen. A glowing pair of green eyes appeared, the same ones that had haunted Kiora’s dreams, narrowing to slits as she exposed her hand, placing it over the queen’s likeness. Blackness spread out of her palm, burning the paint from the wall and sending it fluttering to the ground. Jasmine moved on to the next wall, staring right at Kiora but not seeing her. She placed her palm to the wall, trying to force the blackness to spread, but it would not. Her eyes narrowed farther, trying to force it. Nothing.

  The Shadow began undulating with agitation as she extended her arms. Many of the group understood the danger they were in and dropped to the floor. Several did not. A sphere of red-and-black magic rippled outwards, and those who were left standing were picked up and slammed into the walls so hard, their bodies broke. The room shook and the plaster crumbled. Tiles cracked, the room groaned, but the wall in front of them simply absorbed the impact, refusing to yield to Jasmine’s magic.

  The Shadow began to grow in size with great, heaving breaths, just as it had at the Manor. Those who had lived through the first attack scrambled to their feet, rushing for the thin staircase. But there would be no escape. They would pay the price for losing the Solus again. The Shadow billowed over them, shrouding the room in a black death. There were a few cries and then all was silent. The Shadow had swallowed them whole. When Jasmine vanished, the room was empty once again.

  Nobody spoke. Alcander finally walked past Kiora to press his hand to the exit. “It’s still sealed.”

  “Jasmine is probably waiting.” Kiora sighed. “If the wall is protecting us, she must be out there somewhere.”

  “There are worse things, I suppose,” Lomay said cheerfully. He was met with perplexed looks from all four. “We are locked in with the Wings of Nestor. Think of how much we could learn.” He smiled at them all in turn before vanishing from sight.

  Being locked in the palace was not the plan. They needed to get the Lights before Jasmine moved them again—if she hadn’t already. But Lomay was right—they might as well use the time they had.

  “So, Drustan. Can we have a ride back down?”

  “We?” Drustan asked, eyeing Emane and Alcander.

  Kiora grinned, nodding.

  Drustan shook his head before turning sideways, offering them his back. “It is lucky for these boys that I can’t say no to you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The Palace

  WATER WAS BEGINNING TO dribble through the front doors. It wasn’t much, but it was clear the palace could only sink so many more times before the entire thing was underwater. The thought of this beautiful palace—the only thing that remained of the Creators—being lost forever made Kiora’s heart hurt.

  Lomay’s thread was already waiting by the Wings of Nestor. They made their way back down the hall to join him. Alcander was brooding, pain simmering in the back of his eyes. His presence in her mind seemed to have pulled back. He had no idea the depth to which his family’s betrayal had run.

  Lomay had called chairs from who-knew-where and set them in front of the Wings. “We might as well be comfortable,” he said.

  Once they were all settled, he looked at Kiora, eyebrows raised, asking a silent “What now?” He was doing that more and more lately and it made her extremely uncomfortable. He had more knowledge than she did by far, and yet he insisted on letting her choose the path. Clearing her throat, she said, “If we go after the Light in Tavea, we should use the Wings to help us plan our moves.”

  “How are we doing this?” Emane asked. “I know you have a lot of magic, but there are still only five of us.”

  “She has the talisman,” Alcander murmured. “She can prevent them from using magic.”

  “It will prevent all of you from using magic as well,” Kiora reminded him. “We need to get the Light, as well as rescue the Taveans from the dungeon—we can’t leave them there any longer. Then we need to get out of there as fast as we can. We can’t take on an army and an entire city by ourselves.”

  “Do not underestimate your powers,” Lomay cautioned. “You forget that you have more than just magic at your disposal. You can command all the forces of nature.”

  “No. I will not destroy an entire city, even if I could.”

  “If you do not plan on destroying evil, what do you plan to do?” Drustan asked dryly.

  Kiora clenched her fists. “I didn’t say that. But destroying the entire city just to get access to a Light is murder.”

  “The Shadow would destroy for less than that,” he retorted.

  “I know!” Kiora took a calming breath. “Look, what if we can retrieve the Light? It could give the people something to hope for. Maybe they would finally have an alternative to the Shadow.” She jabbed her finger upwards. “What kind of hope would we give them if we destroyed Tavea? We would be just another force to be feared.”

  “She is right,” Alcander said.

  “No, she is not,” Drustan retorted. “And you are biased.”

  Alcander jerked to his feet. “Watch your tongue, Shifter. You know nothing of Tavea.”

  “Alcander,” Lomay said mildly, “do sit down. Kiora, what did you have in mind?”

&
nbsp; “What do you think?” Kiora asked softly, pleading for counsel.

  “I think I would like to hear your answer.”

  Kiora held Lomay’s gaze as long as she could before she sighed, turning her attention to Alcander. “What do we need to open the door in the crypt?”

  “The staff.”

  “And the staff will only respond to you, correct?”

  “Aimon will not give it up easily,” Drustan said.

  “I am counting on it,” Alcander said darkly.

  “Where does he keep it?”

  Alcander threw his hair behind his shoulders. “He keeps it on his person at all times, and he is surrounded with guards at all times as well.”

  “Before we can do anything else, we have to get that staff,” Kiora said. “Alcander, you know the court. When would be the best time to retrieve it?”

  Alcander stared at the blank set of Wings before him. “Show me the throne room in the castle of Tavea,” he said.

  The Wings obliged. The room was empty, the throne vacant.

  “Where is everyone?” Emane asked.

  Alcander sat up straighter, pulling his shroud of logic and concentration over him like a protective covering. “Aimon and the guards only occupy the throne room during certain hours for public complaints that need to come before the king. The rest of the time, he is in various rooms in the castle. The problem with the other rooms is that they all have glass doors or balconies leading outside, making it very easy for the rest of the guard to join a fight. The throne room is located in the very center of the castle, and although it has many entrances”—Alcander pointed to the multiple sets of doors around the room—“they are all solid and could be secured from the inside. That way, we could control the battle and the number of people involved in it.”