by Walls, Devri
“Enough!” Alcander raised his hand for the killing shot when Kiora’s barrier rippled and the first burst of attack magic tore through near the top.
At the distraction, the Tavean king sent out a flare of magic. Alcander was thrown backwards again, and Emane was pushed the other way. The king bubbled and was gone.
Alcander rolled in agony. His right leg had snapped. “Emane,” he called. “Emane!”
Alcander saw Emane against the back wall. Blood was running down a gash on his forehead. He was out cold.
***
“KIORA, WATCH OUT!”
Kiora turned to look just as the king’s fingers wrapped around her throat. The barrier faded into nothing.
“Stop!” the king cried to the forces on the other side. “I will deal with this little girl myself.”
Alcander fired a shot, but his magic was growing weak and it sputtered out before reaching its target.
“Try it again, nephew,” the king sneered, tightening his grip on Kiora. “And I will take my time killing her, just as my lieutenant did with your dear mother.”
Kiora gasped, her fingers raking at Aimon’s, trying to relieve the pressure on her throat. Alcander’s face turned bright red and he struggled to pull himself up, his leg hanging at an unnatural angle.
Stop, Kiora thought. I will be all right
You are out of magic, Alcander thought back. A rush of worry for her laced his thoughts. Fear for her, and absolute hatred for the man who had her by the neck.
I am almost out of magic. She closed her eyes, trying to focus as black spots swam across her vision.
“Using all your magic was foolish,” Aimon whispered in her ear. Pulling back, he yelled to the group of Taveans spilling through the door. “See—your Solus!”
They jeered at her as she dangled in the king’s arms. She knew how helpless she must look.
“The one who is supposed to save us all.” Aimon laughed. “She cannot even save herself!”
He lowered her just enough for her toes to touch the floor, allowing her to suck in the air she so desperately needed.
“She brings with her my pathetic nephew, heir to the throne of Tavea. A boy who is too weak to fight for his title and instead hides in rebel camps.” He glanced over his shoulder as Emane groaned and began to stir. “And then we have her Protector, a Witow. A worthless boy who threatens my life with a worthless sword.”
“A sword is not worthless,” Kiora said, her voice a mere whisper.
The king laughed. “What was that, oh great Solus?”
“I said a sword is not worthless!” The sword appeared in her hand and she plunged it through his stomach, twisting it as roughly as she could. He released her, gasping as he fell. His followers cried out in shock.
She stumbled backwards as a cackling laughter echoed through the room. Everyone stilled, hesitantly looking up at the black cloud that swirled on the ceiling. From the center of the cloud, two green eyes stared down.
The king grunted. A silent plea formed on his lips.
“I will not be manipulated or blackmailed, Aimon,” Jasmine said. “I warned you of that years ago. And now, you have failed me again. I have chosen a new commander.”
Enzo stepped through the group, smiling down at the dying king. “A new era dawns, Aimon. The Shadow has chosen another, one who will not disappoint her.” The eyes from the ceiling faded into nothing. “And I will prove that, starting with the Solus. You held her life in your hands but took time for your own glory, and you have paid for it.”
Kiora frowned, rubbing her neck as the truth began unfolding around her. The opened balcony, the comments in the meeting, Enzo leaving the room after he had felt her bubble.
Kiora looked into the face of the new commander. “You let us in,” she whispered.
The commander grinned as the old king gave his last breath, his head dropping to the side. “The Shadow needed to dispose of Aimon, and she wanted to see what you were capable of doing.” Enzo casually strolled toward Kiora, his eyes never leaving her. “Aimon failed to find you. Not once, but twice, you slipped through his fingers. So yes, we let you in. And now I shall prove myself capable of doing what he could not.”
Emane came to, shaking his head with a groan. Kiora had only one idea that could get them out of this, and she needed to make it believable. She released her hold on the doors and more Taveans flowed into the room.
The new commander smiled at her. “Truly out of magic now, are we?”
“And so are you.” Kiora jerked the talisman from underneath her shirt and pulled the mesh from the top. The group froze, looking around in confusion—looking for the Shadow.
“I took your magic. The only one here with any power now is me.”
The new commander looked dubious, as expected. Kiora used her lingering magic to raise the staff from the ground and send it back into Alcander’s hands.
“My magic returns quickly.” She smiled to portray confidence.
There was hesitancy in Enzo’s next statement. “There are hundreds of us and only three of you.”
“Little good it will do you when I bury you under this castle.” Kiora reached to the earth, rumbling it beneath them and sending the room swaying and cracking in protest. “I can control all four elements. You will not reach us.”
Emane limped over to Alcander, pulling Alcander’s arm over his shoulder to give him some support.
The group murmured at her claim. Kiora prayed her power would hold out for this tiny display. She still had to get them out of here. The water around the room started creeping forward, pulling itself up into a wall of water between her and them. A moment later, fire danced across the surface before she sent a gust of wind swirling forward—spraying water and searing drops of fire.
Kiora, Alcander’s thoughts came again. Let me speak to them. When I hold up the staff, I need you to sheath the talisman.
Kiora’s head jerked at the pictures that came with Alcander’s thoughts, her mouth nearly falling open. She gave one slow nod to show that she understood.
Alcander hopped forward under Emane’s support, his face turning slightly green with each jerk of his leg. He moved closer to Enzo until he stood in a silver circle on the floor. Kiora had not noticed until now the indentation in the middle.
Alcander held up his staff. “I, Alcander, son of Alaric, grandson of Adair, do claim my right to the throne as king of Tavea.”
There was a rustle of disgust, but no one moved. Kiora had a sudden realization about just how right Emane had been. When magic is taken from someone, they underestimate their power without it. The throne room was filled with the enemy, who could easily have overpowered them if they chose. But without their magic, they didn’t know their own strength.
Alcander continued, “You have proven yourselves to be traitors to the ideals and beliefs of the Tavean people. You have murdered, plundered, and imprisoned those who would not join you. As the king, I convict you of your crimes. And now you shall be punished.” Alcander raised his staff to the aghast stares of his people and Kiora slid the mesh back over the talisman. When the magic returned, Emane grabbed Alcander’s leg, healing, as Alcander slammed the staff into the hole in the ground.
The walls around them instantly began to move. The vines Kiora had noticed earlier wiggled beneath the paint, ripping themselves from the walls and whipping across the room. Thousands of vines slashed at the Taveans Alcander had just convicted. They picked them up, tossed them, squeezed them, and ripped arms and legs from sockets.
Alcander turned. “Run!”
Kiora headed toward the door that would get them to the crypt the fastest. They sprinted into the hall. She could feel Tavean threads approaching from both directions. “I can’t use the talisman,” she shouted. “It will free up everyone in the throne room.”
“In here!” Alcander grabbed her arm, steering her into a room on the left.
“What now?” Emane asked, looking around at what was clearly not an exit.
/> Alcander pulled some wind, shoving it at the window. The panes rattled, but Alcander was running low on magic.
“Together!” Kiora grabbed more wind and joined Alcander. The window shattered and the three leaped through. They landed in the castle gardens and started running.
“Did Lomay get them all out?” Alcander yelled as they ran.
“Yes,” Kiora said. “I can’t feel any more threads in the dungeons.” She could feel all the threads in the castle converging on the throne room, no doubt trying to help their countrymen.
“What happened back there?” Emane yelled as Alcander led them through the hedges and flowerbeds.
“A protection system built in for the king. It was a family secret until now.”
“That is some family secret,” Emane grunted, hurtling over a small hedge.
“No bigger than yours,” Kiora said, referring to the knowledge of evil Emane’s family had kept from the people for a thousand years.
“Fair enough. Anyone have enough magic left for a bubble?” Emane asked.
“No,” Kiora said. “We need to save what we have in case we run into any more trouble.” Her magic was coming back, but she had used far too much in there. The wall-to-wall shield had required an enormous amount. She hadn’t realized what a mistake it was until she created it. That was the second time she had been so foolish, but what other choice did she have? Had she not, they would have been overrun in seconds.
Reaching the tomb of the kings, Alcander used his staff to open the door. Once inside, he paused at the bottom of the steps, looking at the place where his father had fallen. Then he placed his staff on top of the center tomb, unlocking it.
Inside was a glass coffin, just as she had seen in the Wings. Alcander popped the latches on the sides, opening the top. The skeleton of the first Tavean king lay undisturbed, the Light next to him.
The Light was dull, with magical cords wrapping around it. Although she had been told that no one could trace the magic through the bindings, she had expected to feel something—the power it contained was that of the Creators, and she was standing right next to it. But there was nothing. She brushed her finger across one of the cords, hoping for something—a flare of magic, a response. But again, there was nothing. If she didn’t know what she was looking at, she would have never associated this dull ball with anything born of magic.
Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her fingers around it, lifting it free of the tomb. Awe overcame her. They had done it—retrieved a Light! She grinned up at Alcander and Emane.
Alcander looked as amazed as she felt, but Emane was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes flickering between the Light and the stairs behind them.
“Come on,” he said. “We can look at the Light when we get it back to the city.”
Kiora nodded, tucking it under her arm. Rushing up the stairs, she muttered the incantation to call Lomay. We have it. Are you ready?
There was no response, but a bubble dropped overhead and Drustan swooped to the ground. Lomay looked…older. He slumped over Drustan’s back.
“Lomay!” Alcander sprang to his side.
“That took a considerable amount of magic,” he wheezed. “Putting up that enclosure after bubbling so many has almost wiped me out. It feels like you are about out as well.”
Alcander looked nervously at the castle. The threads were beginning to move out of the throne room, no doubt looking for them. “Take Emane.”
“What? No,” Emane protested. “I am not leaving you two here without any magic.”
“I can take two of you,” Lomay said apologetically. “But that is all. Any more and I risk dropping the bubble and this will all be for naught.”
“It’s all right—I can call Arturo. I have enough for a small bubble,” Kiora said. “But we have to go. Now.”
The doors at the back of the castle burst open. Alcander helped Emane up as Kiora called Arturo. Lomay bubbled them right away to keep the Taveans from knowing in what direction they had fled.
Kiora felt a little guilty, knowing that Alcander and Emane would immediately realize she had intentionally misled them about the amount of magic she had. She had enough to bubble her and Arturo on the way out, but that was it. She turned and ran.
Kiora! Alcander’s voice roared through her mind.
I will be fine—Arturo’s almost here. She clutched the Light to her chest as she leaped over a small creek. I will meet you at the enclosure.
Arturo’s thread was approaching rapidly from a height she would much rather never visit again. A bolt of magic crashed into the ground behind her.
Arturo swooped down in front of her and Kiora swung herself on his back before he had fully stopped. As they took to the air, Kiora glanced back at the Taveans pouring from the castle.
Do you have enough left to bubble?
Kiora steeled herself, pulling from the tiny core of magic she had left, and threw a bubble. I hope we can make it.
They hadn’t even cleared the top of the castle when a vision rushed in hard and fast.
Jasmine stood by the tree that marked the entrance to the city. The Illusionist was gone, and the earth was marked by the battle that had taken place not that long ago. She was not hidden by her shadow. Whether she had discarded it, or whether it just appeared that way now that Kiora knew who she was, she wasn’t sure. Jasmine vanished, appearing again where Lomay had met them with the women and children. She looked around at the hidden doorway, running her finger over the edges, her green eyes narrowing in thought. Vanishing, she then appeared at the edge of the lake. She looked in the direction of the tree and then in the direction of the other door, a smile spreading across her face.
Jasmine’s beauty bothered Kiora. It seemed that her outsides should match her insides, as she had seen happen with the Taveans and Fallen Ones. But Jasmine’s dark core had not affected her outer beauty in the slightest.
“Clever, Father,” Jasmine murmured, bending down to run her finger through the water. Standing up, she took a step into the lake, and then another, her red cloak swirling on top of the water. “Your little exception will be too late, I fear.” The grin that lashed across her face was cruel and evil.
Kiora could feel Arturo banking beneath her before the vision faded.
Faster, she urged as they headed toward the city.
Kiora, you are out of magic.
I know.
You are in no state to fight her.
What do you want me to do? What if she discovers a way in? We have to get them out.
As soon as they were out of the Taveans’ range, Kiora dropped her bubble, trying to hold on to the last bit of magic she had. The magic flowed to her, trying to fill the void, but the imminent meeting with Jasmine made it painfully apparent just how large the void was.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Loss
ALCANDER TRIED TO IGNORE Emane’s anxious pacing around the perimeter of the barrier. His nerves were already on edge as it was. Kiora should have been there long before now.
Trying to distract himself with his duties, he moved from person to person, talking to them and shaking their hands. The adoration in his people’s eyes humbled him.
Alcander knelt down next to a girl who looked to be about his age. Her white hair was dingy and her fingernails were caked with grime. She looked up at him with hope. “Is it over?” she asked.
Alcander wanted to tell her “Yes,” but there was a sick dread creeping in. Something was wrong. He took her hands and gave the best answer he could. “I hope so.” He was about to move on to the next man, whose eyes were pleading for a chance to grasp his hand, when he saw Lomay stiffen. He knew that look. Quickly, he moved to the old man’s side, waiting for him to finish his vision.
Lomay’s face was grave.
“What?” Alcander asked. “Where is she?”
“I didn’t see that for sure.”
“But?”
“If she saw what I just saw, I know where she is going.
”
Emane strode up next to them, his fingers running over the hilt of his sword repeatedly as if the action was somehow calming him. “Well?”
“Jasmine may have found a weakness in the city,” Lomay said grimly.
Both boys were silent until Alcander frowned. “Jasmine is there?”
Lomay nodded. “Or will be soon. It’s hard to tell.”
Emane clenched his fists. “Kiora went after her, didn’t she?”
“I truly don’t know, my boy,” Lomay said. “But she is not here.”
Alcander turned, sprinting toward the edge of the boundary. Lomay called out to Drustan. “Stop him!”
Drustan leaped up, wrapping arms that were much too large for the rest of his body around Alcander.
“Let go of me, Shifter!” Alcander said roughly. “Or I swear I will throw you in with the rest of your kind when this over.”
“Why am I holding him?” Drustan yelled.
Lomay hobbled over to them as quickly as he could.
“If you step out of the barrier, your people will die,” Lomay said. “You have almost no magic and no way of getting to the city. Think, Alcander.”
Alcander stilled in Drustan’s arms, a muscle ticking in his jaw.