by Devri Walls
“Then why did you do it?” Kiora shouted, her voice wobbling. “If it’s so horrible for you . . . ”
“I did it for you!” Alcander yelled, stepping closer to her. “I did it because I love you! I did it to keep you alive!” She bit her lip, watching his chest heaving and his arms shaking. “By the Creators, Kiora. This is killing me!”
She took a startled step back. “I am killing you?” she asked, suddenly hurt.
“Kiora.” He grabbed her hands, clenching them between his own. “How would you feel if suddenly you couldn’t cry anymore? If you couldn’t talk to anyone about anything anymore? If you were expected to keep everything inside?” His blue eyes were darker than normal.
“I…I don’t know if I could.” Tears started to form in her eyes.
“This bond, these feelings for you. It is asking me to change my very nature. It is bad enough to have your voice in my head.” He shuddered. “But to answer you back, to talk to you—I cannot separate my thoughts. Your answer will come laced with thoughts and feelings, images that I never intended to send. You will see…” Alcander squeezed her hands. “So much. Too much. Even more than you saw when we connected minds.”
“Alcander, I didn’t understand.”
He dropped wearily to his knees, his hands sliding from hers, his face contorted in pain and confusion.
Kiora fell to the ground in front of him, scooping his hand back into one of her own. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered, running her fingers along his jaw. “I promise, I will only use it in an emergency.”
He nodded, looking over her shoulder. The second he did, Kiora felt what he was looking at. She cursed her preoccupation as she turned to see Emane at the door. His back was already to her as he headed inside, his shoulders tense. Kiora’s hand fell to the grass.
***
KIORA PACKED SOME CLOTHES and the book of Creators before shouldering her pack and heading down the giant staircase. Everyone was already outside. Pushing open the door, she stopped short before bursting into laughter. Lomay was chuckling, hunched up even farther than normal over his walking stick. Emane stood to the side, his arms crossed, trying desperately not to laugh but only half succeeding. Alcander was walking around, his lips pursed, looking at the strangest creature Kiora had ever seen.
“What in the name of Nestor are you supposed to be?” Alcander asked Drustan.
“Really, Alcander, do the Shifters here have no imagination?” Drustan replied.
“Not really, and no sense of humor,” Lomay said.
Drustan’s body was shaped like a Pegasus, with a narrow back and neck that was covered with thick, soft fur, much like the flying fox Alcander rode. But his wings were enormous dragon wings that stretched much farther than they should have, and even better than Drustan’s bizarre conglomeration of body parts was the color. The hair on his back was pink fuzzy down and his mane was white-and-orange striped. His wings were green, his body blue.
Kiora covered her mouth with a snort. Drustan turned, grinning, his wings rotating with him and nearly taking out Alcander, who had to drop flat to the ground to avoid impact.
Alcander glared up at Drustan.
“And here she is,” Drustan crowed. “The lady worth all this work.”
“Wow, Drustan. It’s—well, impressive.”
“Impressive!” Emane cut in, his arms dropping to his sides. “I can’t tell whether he’s from a dream or a nightmare. And really, Drustan, why on earth did you think that orange and green went together?”
“I had no idea you were such an expert or I would have stopped to ask your opinion. Color is color—it all goes together, my prince. Climb aboard, Kiora. Let’s see if I met your requirements.”
Alcander pushed himself back up, dusting off. “You required this?”
“Not the colors, or the, um…” She eyed Drustan. “Combination.”
“You said fast and comfortable.” Drustan stretched his neck to indicate the fur on his back. “You have comfort.” He then flapped his large wings. “And speed. The rest is travel entertainment.”
“Of course.” Kiora grinned, climbing onto Drustan’s back. “Wow.” She patted the fur around her. “This is comfortable.” It was like sitting on a down comforter—maybe two.
“Are we ready?” Drustan asked.
Lomay hobbled over. “Good luck, Kiora. We will be doing all we can here.”
“Thank you.”
Grabbing her hand, he kissed it. “You are more than I could have ever imagined.”
Kiora blushed as Lomay hobbled away.
Emane came up next. “I am going to tell you something and I don’t want you to say anything. Do you understand?” His voice was gruff, his eyes glued to the ground.
“All right, I—”
“No,” Emane said, holding up his finger. “Nothing.” Taking a deep breath, he looked into her eyes. “I love you, Kiora.”
“I—”
“Again,” he interrupted her, placing a finger over her lips. “Not a word. Just—be safe.” He walked away, shoving his hands in his pockets without so much as a hug, kicking at the grass as he left. Kiora wasn’t sure if it was because he was fearful of her magic or just hurt. Either way, it felt like a hole had been punched through her.
Alcander stood awkwardly as Emane strode past him.
“Come on, Alcander!” Drustan yelled. “We don’t have all day.”
Alcander came over, shaking his head. “Hurry back—these people need you.”
“And what about you? Do you need me?” She blushed at her own boldness, but there was a hole that had just been ripped through her, aching to be filled.
Alcander pulled her down to him, kissing her and releasing a rush of magic that hummed the answer through her veins.
“I am right here, you know,” Drustan said dryly.
Kiora jerked away from Alcander, heat flushing her face.
“Take care of her, Shifter.”
“Always. Besides, I can’t lose her now—you and Emane would kill me.”
Kiora looked guiltily over her shoulder as they flew away. Alcander stood in front of the doors, his arm crossed, his hair blowing back behind his shoulders. She had to make a choice.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Mutual Respect
EMANE STRETCHED, PUSHING HIS blanket down around his waist. The cool air on his bare chest helped chase away the grogginess. Yesterday had been a long day. After Kiora left, he had spent the day in the meeting room with Alcander and Lomay, going over maps and estimating numbers in each of the camps, trying to figure out how many they had to fight and how many weapons they would need, as well as arguing over the need for horses. It seemed that horses were considered useless, as the magical beings riding them passed so much magic in the heat of combat that the horses usually died. Emane pointed out that the only reason they were useless was because of magic, and if no one had magic, it would be advantageous to be higher than their enemies. Alcander said he would work on procuring some more suitable creatures, but would settle for horses if none could be found.
The amount of weaponry they needed was staggering, and the enormity of the project was only lessened by the fact that they would have magic to help with the preparations until the actual battle. They had not come to a conclusion on where the training would take place. The camps were spread apart to reduce the danger of the Shadow’s forces accidentally discovering more than one camp. To travel from camp to camp seemed like an enormous waste of time, but to gather the army as a whole would be a challenge. To move the thousands of rebels across the land without being discovered would be a small miracle in and of itself, but even more than that, it presented the danger of being discovered before they were ready. If that happened, it would result in a complete annihilation of their forces. And that was if they could find a suitable spot to gather in the first place. A simple cave would not be large enough, and using a whole valley was out of the question. He lay there, mulling over possible solutions, but could not come u
p with one that Alcander had not already refused or refuted.
Shoving the blankets off the rest of the way, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. The green snake wrapped around his arm caught the light coming in through the windows. Sighing, he looked at it. Just enough magic to keep him alive in this world, just enough magic to gift him with healing, but not enough magic to make him truly a part of it. Not enough magic to allow him to touch Kiora, to feel her magic rush through him. He had seen the look on Alcander’s face outside before Kiora left, and he had wanted to kill him for being able to enjoy it so much. He wanted her so badly, he ached inside.
Back in Meros, she had restored his faith in everything. In himself, in love, in life. And now, he might lose her. Surely there was an exception. There was an exception to everything. Maybe he could find a way to extend his life and make the magic he already had truly part of him.
A stiff knock jolted him from his thoughts.
“Yes?”
Alcander’s voice came through the door. “If you are going to eat, you had better do it now. I will meet you outside for training in fifteen minutes.”
Emane grumbled, pulling a tunic over his head. He knew he should eat, but he wasn’t actually hungry. Pulling on boots, he strapped on his sword and a dagger. Lomay had promised to procure a sword for Alcander.
Lomay was waiting for him at the base of the stairs. “I have the sword you requested.”
It wasn’t as intricate as the one Emane owned, but it was well crafted. Emane took it by the hilt. “Thank you.”
“I daresay Alcander will lack your gratitude.”
Emane laughed. “I daresay you are correct. And I will love every minute of it.” He winked before strolling outside, testing the weight and balance of the sword.
Alcander stood staring over the cliffs. Throwing open the doors, Emane yelled, “Are you just going to stand there or are we going to fight?”
Alcander gave him a narrow glare.
“Do you practice that pose?” Emane asked, cocking his head to one side. “Because it really is quite stunning.”
Alcander almost smiled—almost. “You’re in a good mood.”
“As are you, considering you are about to be beaten by a Witow.” He threw Alcander his sword.
Alcander caught it neatly. “You honestly think you can beat me?”
“If you are not allowed to use your magic—which you are not, by the way—then, yes.” Emane moved closer, his sword held out in front of him. “The tactics are different, your balance is different, and your strengths will not be your strengths. Hence—” He spread his arms wide, smirking. “The good mood.”
Alcander squinted as he appraised Emane.
“What?”
“Yesterday, this morning—I think I can see it.”
“See what?”
Alcander hesitated, as if it pained him to say it. “You being called as the Protector.”
Emane was stunned. He couldn’t tell if that was an apology or an observation. Either way, he couldn’t deny that it was genuine, which oddly touched him. “You no longer find me…What’s the word you always used? Inadequate?”
Alcander’s mouth quirked to the side. “Don’t push your luck.”
Emane held up his sword. “Let’s go.”
When Emane came within range, Alcander leaped straight into the air, flipping over Emane’s head and landing neatly on the other side of him.
Emane rolled his eyes as he turned to face Alcander. “Fine—you have one strength. Although I still have trouble believing you don’t need magic to do that.”
Alcander shrugged.
“My point is, I have the advantage.” Emane spread his feet into a fighting stance, holding his sword out in front. “Shall we begin?”
Alcander moved forward with the sword. Emane easily knocked it away, sidestepping.
“Ah, not as easy as it looks to be a Witow, is it?” Emane said, struggling against the joy bubbling within him. It felt so good not to be at a disadvantage.
Alcander lunged again. Although he was fast, he didn’t understand where to place the sword and Emane knocked it away with one sure movement and a neat step to the side. Alcander stumbled, looking unsure of himself for the first time since Emane had met him. “I am reconsidering teaching you how to fight, Alcander. I like you much better when you’re not so arrogant.”
“Really?” Alcander said, straightening up. “That’s strange—I find I like your arrogant side better. Less whiny and needy.”
Emane grinned and neatly flicked out with his sword, disarming Alcander. The sword spun across the courtyard.
Alcander moved his hand up. Emane recognized it immediately from his training with Aleric and blocked the spell with his sword. The magic rebounded, knocking Alcander flat on his back.
“Alcander, that is cheating.”
Alcander actually smiled. “Yes,” he grunted, pushing himself to his feet. “I can definitely see it. I like you much better this way.” Retrieving his sword, Alcander tried to imitate Emane’s stance. “Are you going to teach me? Or shall we stand here and banter all day?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Return to Meros
IT TOOK ALMOST THREE days to reach the pass to Meros. Kiora had not realized how far from home they had traveled. She kept herself bubbled as they went. Considering what she came for, she didn’t want her presence announced to foe or friend.
The land of no magic was as eerily beautiful as Kiora remembered. She slid off Drustan’s back and stopped to admire the magnificent willows. Last time, they had been decidedly silver. But now, in the sunlight, they looked more green, with a touch of inexplicable sparkle.
“I will wait here for you, my lady,” he said with a bow before disappearing beneath the branches of the largest weeping willow.
She swallowed hard, her nerves running rampant. If the talisman wasn’t here, she had no idea where else to look. Steeling herself, she headed toward the Sea of Garian, just as she and Emane had done that first night here.
The sound of hundreds of tiny little footsteps reached her ears far faster than she had expected. Kiora shivered involuntarily, remembering the feel of their insect feet pulling at her clothes and skin as they covered her body. She froze, waiting.
A mist came rolling toward her, looking even more out of place in the sunlight than it had in the dead of night. It slipped over the green of the island, blanketing it in white and obscuring her view. It rolled forward before finally freezing a few feet from her. She held her breath for a moment as a wave of black beetles came scuttling out from underneath. They moved forward as one, surrounding her until she stood in the middle of a very small circle.
“Hello?”
The beetles stilled simultaneously. The only movement at her feet was their long antennas waving. One large beetle emerged from the group alone, not pausing for permission before it hurried up her leg. That was how it had begun last time, a single beetle. But then more had come until they had covered her completely in a mass of tiny feet and bodies. The lone beetle made its way to her shoulder and stopped. Kiora peered at it.
You told no one? it asked.
“No.”
The bug’s antennas waved wildly, but it didn’t say anything.
“I am looking for something,” Kiora ventured.
The magic that protects what you are looking for is strong. Only one may enter.
“I don’t know what you mean.” She was not sure what protections the beetle was referring to, but it made her nervous.
Only one may enter, it repeated. If you are not the one, there will be consequences.
Her breath caught. “You mean it will only allow a certain person in?”
Again the antennas waved wildly at her.
“And you don’t know if it’s me or not?”
The bug on her shoulder didn’t answer. It just stared at her with its large black eyes.
“What happens if I go with you and I am not t
he right person?” she asked.
You will die.
Kiora blinked. Taking in a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. “Please take me to it.” Kiora was glad she was here alone. Explaining the possible consequence to Emane—or Alcander, for that matter—would not go well.
The mass of insects surrounding her broke into excited, meaningless chatter, surging back the way they had come. She felt the energy in the air as the beetle on her shoulder scurried down to join them.
They kept her surrounded, leading her into the mist. Kiora was silent. She saw nothing except the dark mass at her feet and could hear nothing over the excited chatter of her escorts. Even the sound of the sea lapping at the shore was drowned out. They moved for some time before the mist began to dissipate and her escorts stopped abruptly. In front of her stood a stone archway. There was nothing in front of it, nothing behind. Just a simple arch.
The beetles in front of her melted back and to the side, opening up a pathway. Kiora took a hesitant step forward. With her first footfall, the arch flared to life. Blue and green magical flame licked the edges of the stone, starting on one end and racing to the other. Kiora stumbled backwards. As soon as the flame had traveled the length of the arch, it dimmed, the stones themselves glowing as if heated from the inside.
Kiora’s shoulders had just started to relax when the stones began raining. Rivulets of pinks, greens, and blues showered down, creating a sheet of color. The magic popped and snapped with a most uncharacteristic sound. It was beautiful, and yet the magic flowing off it was powerful and most assuredly capable of the death sentence the beetles had promised.
“What do I do?” Kiora whispered.
Walk through, the mass below answered.
Kiora took a shuddering breath. She tried to urge her feet forward, but they didn’t move. The power of this gate was frightening. This was old magic, unlike anything she had ever felt. Her heart thumped wildly beneath her shirt and her fingers shook as she tucked her hair behind her ears. One foot finally jerked forward, and then the other. Her nose was nearly touching the sheet, the colors popping and moving before her eyes. Gritting her teeth, she took one final step, moving under the arch.