by Kiersten Fay
While her sisters practiced their respective gifts among the forest-like backdrop, Kyra burrowed her back into the soft grass, arms folded behind her head, gazing up at nothing. This place didn’t smell quite like home—either of them—but the pungent scent was pleasant anyway.
As Anya played with moving currents of air, Nadua sat in a meditative state. Kyra supposed she was seeing hints of the future, or perhaps the history of those on the ship. Nadua was still learning to master it, but her control grew by leaps and bounds with the help of Anya’s insightful instruction.
Kyra paid close attention to her little sister’s advice. Though she was young in many ways, she was proving wise beyond her years in others. Of all of them, Kyra would boast that Anya’s gift was the most powerful. Certainly the most useful.
A bit of shame crept through Kyra. Her magic was still raw, nearly unmanageable. She’d been making some progress back on Earth, if only a fraction. But now, for fear she would destroy the ship and everyone aboard, she could not join her sisters in training.
Her view of the ceiling was suddenly blocked by Anya’s beaming smile and the curtain of her golden locks. She should have known Anya would sense her melancholy.
“Hi,” Anya chirped, settling back on her knees. “What’s wrong?”
Kyra sighed and sat up. “I’m just worried that I won’t be much help when the time comes.”
Nadua joined the conversation. “I worry about that as well. I can’t exactly pull visions out of thin air. They come when they come.” She shrugged.
“At least you don’t involuntarily explode and then subsequently pass out,” Kyra countered
“Yes, at least that doesn’t happen,” she gave a half-hearted laugh, followed by a sorrowful expression. Kyra returned a thin smile and shrugged.
They relaxed into a small circle, and Anya asked, “What does it feel like when you use your gift?”
Kyra thought back. “My body gets really hot. I think my skin even begins to glow. Then I get the feeling something is trying to break out of me, like a wild animal or something. At first I try to keep it in, because I know what will happen if…when it gets out. But then…then it creeps into my head. Takes over. And I begin to want to let it go because…” she paused. “Because I crave the destruction that I know is coming.”
Kyra expected them to look at her like she was crazy. In so many words, she’d just admitted a belief that her magic had a mind of its own.
Instead, Nadua confessed, “It feels similar when I have a vision. You know, without the destruction and dark thoughts. I lose myself, and it’s like I’m propelled into another time. A place that I can neither affect nor leave at will. I get sort of stuck.”
“I’ve had experiences like yours, as well,” Anya said. “When Ethan held us captive on his base, before we knew who he was,” she added with emphasis, “I unleashed my gift to free Sebastian and the others, and for a moment I was not myself. Something terrible overcame me. I can’t even explain what it was.”
The shiver that followed her words was telling. Anya had been frightened by whatever she’d endured, just as Kyra was frightened of herself.
“It will all work out,” Anya encouraged, once again sensing her dismay. “Father believes in us, does he not? And he must know that we will be triumphant.”
Kyra and Nadua shared a look. They knew better than she that their father’s visions were not always accurate. There was a chance that they were merely racing to their doom.
The thought was disconcerting. Her mind drifted to Cale, and she suppressed another sigh. What if they were just careening towards their inevitable demise, and she only had a limited amount of time with him—the clock ticking down?
Were they wasting time with this animosity? So he believed she bewitched him with magic. She knew better. She’d just been hoping he’d figure it out himself and come to her for…what? Forgiveness? Hell, at this point she’d take a breathy, “I’m going to take you now.” But that didn’t seem to be happening, and their separation felt…wrong.
The few times he’d approached her, he’d been ill-mannered and terse, and, of course, she’d been the same. He had a talent for making her hackles rise. Yet, at night she wished for his arms around her, almost to a maddening degree.
Nadua and Anya went back to practicing, leaving her to her thoughts. She leaned back in the grass, running the heel of her palms over her eyes.
Why hadn’t he come to apologize yet? She knew the answer: he didn’t think he’d done anything wrong.
Then, an idea sparked.
It was possible that he’d only acted so barbarous because that was the way of his people. His actions on Uli Rings had suggested he did in fact want her, though his approach left something to be desired. What if he was waiting on her to come to him and reconcile? Perhaps, just as on Earth, he was giving her space now.
She cursed herself, realizing she was merely making excuses, and it was only a matter of time before she talked herself into going to him. How pathetic.
The doors swooshed open and they all turned their heads to see Tristan enter. “We draw near your home,” he announced.
“There it is!” Kyra breathed.
They all gathered in the control room to witness their approach.
Evlon had slowly grown from an insignificant speck of light, to a small green globe that could fit in her palm.
They were still so far away, but the tiny glimmer of the world she’d once known had her heart racing. She choked back a cry of relief that it was still—at least as far as she could tell—intact.
Seeing it even managed to take her mind away from the fact that Cale stood but feet from her. She’d been caught off guard at seeing him in the control room, and her body had responded as if they hadn’t been parted for weeks. To her embarrassment, he’d noticed, and she’d watched his gaze turn hungry.
Then Tristan followed her in, and Cale grew cold, a painful reminder that the only reason he desired her now was for competition’s sake. The fact of the matter remained, he’d been ready to cast her aside until the dragon had entered the scene. The realization burned like a hot poker to the heart.
There she stood in the control room, surrounded by Tristan and her sisters—Cale with his family, and Ethan—feeling as lonely as her first year on Earth.
Everyone seemed to take position between her and Cale. Whether it was planned or a coincidence, she couldn’t decide. But at the moment, she was just grateful for the distance. If Cale ever wanted to be with her again, she wanted to be sure it was because he cared for her, and not just because of a jealous rivalry.
She recalled his horrified expression when he’d learned of her liaison with Tristan. It was true they’d been together in their youth, but it was so long ago, it hardly mattered now. That time had been new and exciting for both of them. Each had been infatuated with the other, and she would forever cherish the memories of first love. But whatever she had felt for him then paled in comparison to what she felt for Cale now. Even if her feelings were solely one-sided.
Kyra had been surprised to find hope, on Tristan’s part, of rekindling their former romance, but she made it clear that wasn’t going happen. To her relief, he hadn’t been too disappointed. Now he just enjoyed screwing with Cale.
She heard the undertones of a menacing growl when Tristan placed his hand on her shoulder. After she gave Tristan a chastising look, he removed it, giving her a roguish grin.
The tension in the room skyrocketed.
Then Portia entered. “I’ve finished the spell,” she announced. “We should be as invisible as a black hole.”
“Good,” Sebastian said. To his crew, he ordered, “Divert energy to shields. Keep our weapons hot, but do not fire unless I command.”
Kyra gasped. “We’re not going to attack now, are we?”
“No, I’m just being cautious. Once we get through the atmosphere, we’re going to try to land. Ethan has mapped a location he believes will best suit us.”
“Yes,” Ethan interjected. “The area should conceal us, as well as bring us close to where the book indicates a faction of our people might be hiding, somehow out of reach from the Kayadon. Probably with the use of magic.”
“How long till we get there?” Cale asked, showing a hint of impatience.
Aidan answered, “Half a day at least. And if you’re all going to hover in here, I swear to all the gods, I will ram us into the first enemy ship I see.”
Tristan grumbled in her ear, “I canna believe he ran Phase Nine, let alone won the thing.” Then louder, he said, “Come, love, let us find entertainment elsewhere. We can do nothing to help here.”
She felt the heat of Cale’s glower follow her out the door. Forcing herself not to steal a glance, she could imagine his irises the color of lava.
“I wish you wouldn’t antagonize him,” she said, halfway down the hall.
“Sorry, lass. I canna help myself.”
“Yes, you can. You just don’t want to.”
She’d found Tristan’s personality to be just as she remembered it, playful and easygoing, but under the surface, there was strength and maturity. Traits inspired by his father’s influence, and no doubt, nurtured by his mother.
“How is your mother?” she asked, ashamed that she’d not thought to before now.
“She is well. No’ much different than you might recall. She wishes we would all find wives and settle down. Goads us constantly. It’s a shame she never bore any lasses like yourself to fuss over.”
“She was quite fond of me, wasn’t she?”
In fact, the boys had been shocked by how quickly Edel had taken a liking to her. They’d led her to believe their mother curt and barely cordial to anyone who wasn’t family. But then, Kyra supposed the queen had been eager for a match, just like everyone else.
“That she was. I’ve no’ seen her so vexed than the day you were called home. You know she would love to see you again.”
“Maybe in the future I can visit her.” If there was a future for her, that is. “How is your clan’s relationship with the witches?” Though not as powerful as the Serakians, the witches on Lagura wielded impressive magic and often used it against the dragons.
His look said it for him. “No’ well. They are as devious as ever. Father is in talks with a handful of covens. They demand presence on our council, but I fear it would be our downfall.”
Kyra didn’t know what to say. She was worried about her own people’s downfall.
Many of the crew gathered in the salon where the wall length window offered the best view. She assumed Cale had remained in the control room with Sebastian, but she couldn’t be sure. She and Tristan claimed a free table, and Marik brought her a tea-like beverage that she sipped while trying to concentrate on surrounding conversations.
Her sisters seemed to be in the same frame of mind as she, because they didn’t speak much either. A rambunctious table of mercenaries offered some entertainment by regaling stories, but Kyra could hardly feign interest.
The rest of the day passed slowly. The watched pot theory was true, and Kyra had to command herself to stop glancing out the window to see if Evlon had grown at all. But eventually the day did pass, and against the darkness of space her home suddenly took up much of the view.
As small details bloomed, her heart warmed. The land became more defined by coastlines. Fractals of light bounced off winding rivers, broken up by dense patches of forest. It was beautiful.
Then her heart dropped into her stomach.
Among the stars, a distant ship loomed. They all seemed to notice it at once, and the room stilled. The large metal craft sat motionless, like a spider waiting for prey.
She held her breath as they began to drift closer. Anxiety crawled up her spine. But the Serakian’s spell must have been working. The foreign ship made no move toward them.
A part of her wanted to rush back to the control room for assurance, but she would only be a nuisance. Besides, if they were about to be blown to smithereens, she’d rather be the last to know.
Evlon continued to expand toward them. A mass of land turned into a large expanse of treetops. The sky shifted from black to a vibrant blue. As they sank through a hazy layer of clouds, light droplets of water began to build against the window.
She wasn’t expecting to see a familiar structure, but the haze cleared and beyond a stretch of land, nestled at the base of a far off hill, her childhood home appeared.
“What is that?” Anya asked, sounding in awe.
“The palace,” Kyra replied mournfully.
The white marbled walls looked stark against the flourishing green hills that rose up around it. Was their father still there?
They were too far away to determine if life went on behind the windows, or in the small city that surrounded it. Still, she strained her eyes hoping to catch a hint of movement before they ducked under the thick canopy.
As they descended, the light became obscured by thick trunks and a plethora of giant leaves that fanned out in all directions. With her heart pumping adrenaline into her veins, she watched as the trunks whizzed by, the movement slowing by small increments till the ship came to a crawl.
She glanced at her sisters, whose expressions mirrored hers, a mixture of excitement and trepidation. What would they find when they stepped foot outside? Would all be as they remembered? Would they find their people surviving? Or would they discover their home and its people beaten into submission, a shadow of what was?
Finally, the ship settled. Her pulse jumped into hyper drive, and she had to take a deep breath in an attempt to stave off a bout of dizziness.
She found herself wishing Cale were here. His strength and confidence would no doubt rejuvenate hers.
Outside the window, there were signs of a breeze gently caressing the large foliage, but inside the salon, her breath was the only sound she heard.
Anya propelled out of her seat, “Let’s go! Let’s go,” she shouted with unrestrained glee.
“Wait. We don’t know if it’s safe yet,” Kyra warned.
“Can’t you feel it? It’s so lovely.” Her smile was exuberant.
Kyra did feel something. Under her nerves was a deep sense of belonging. It flowed through her, coating her every cell, down to her marrow.
Cale pushed his way past the waiting crowd. The hatch to this foreign land was about to open, and he was desperate to find Kyra. Aidan had scanned for danger and gave the all clear, but that didn’t mean shit to him.
Neither did the fact that they’d slipped past Kayadon ships, posted just beyond the outer atmosphere, with the ease of a child. He still didn’t know if the cloaking spell would work outside the ship, and the witch had disappeared before he could inquire.
Once more, he scanned the myriad of faces, still not seeing Kyra. If she was here, her scent was being masked by the smells from the tightly packed crew members.
Just when he was about to bellow her name, he caught a glimpse of Anya. She was talking to someone. He couldn’t see to whom. Muscling his way forward, he spotted the back of Kyra’s long coppery locks.
Anya noticed him first, then Nadua, who was standing next to—he growled—Tristan. At least she was putting space between the dragon and Kyra. Marik was there as well, which alleviated a bit more of his anxiety.
“Where is Sebastian?” Anya asked.
“Right behind me.”
Kyra stiffened at his voice, but she didn’t turn to look at him. He didn’t give a damn if she wished him away. Nothing would make him leave her side now. Not until he was absolutely sure of her safety. And since this world was unknown to him, it would take a great deal of convincing.
Luckily, she didn’t make a fuss. Tristan, however, gave him a mocking grin. Cale bared his fangs in return.
See, Kyra, we can be cordial.
Just so long as the dragon didn’t touch her, the dragon got to live.
Finally, she glanced at him. A fleeting look at first, but, as if she couldn’t help it
, her expressive eyes fell on him a second time, lingering. He met her gaze head-on, longing to see that familiar warmth in their depths. To tell her what a fool he’d been.
Before he could, she opened her mouth to speak. Then, as though thinking better of it, she paused for a moment and tried again, choosing her words carefully.
He realized he was holding his breath, anticipating what she might say. Even if she were only to yell at him, it would be better than the nothingness he’d been hard-pressed to endure.
A single syllable was all he got when Sebastian appeared, cutting her off.
“Open the hatch,” he ordered, claiming Anya by the hand.
Hissing sounds erupted around them as the hatch jerked free and a rush of air pushed inside. Fresh air that smelled of rich soil and life and something else he couldn’t describe. Cale blocked his eyes from the sudden brightness.
The door slowly opened, revealing inch by inch a land Kyra barely remembered, but could never forget. Her happiness nearly brought her to her knees as she sucked in a lung full of the vaguely familiar air, infused with a faint sweetness.
When the ramp unfolded, she took a tentative step forward, but a hand gripped her by the arm, holding her back.
“Let a team go first and make sure it’s safe,” Cale muttered softly.
He’d pulled her close, and she could feel the heat of his chest seep into her back. Hearing his voice made her want to lean into him, but she resisted the urge. She was still angry with him, wasn’t she?
Yet, before, his expression had held a hidden emotion, just behind his tough, indifferent mask, and she’d almost admitted to him that she missed him.
Sebastian sent a group out to investigate the area, armed with both lethal and non-lethal weaponry. They weren’t gone long before they returned…with Portia in tow.
“I popped ahead to work a number of concealment spells. We should be practically invisible up to three hundred paces out, no farther. Actually, to be safe, make that two hundred.”