Wings of Tavea (14 page)

Curiosity got the best of her. “What is it?” Kiora asked, coming over to investigate.

“An air bubble.” Alcander’s voice was muffled. “Hypothetically, it is supposed to supply the person inside with enough air to last underwater for an hour or so.” Alcander scanned the inside of his air bubble with wary eyes. “I say hypothetically because Lomay just concocted this spell and has not yet tested it. Not that it is of any matter to you. I am sure if I die, he will find another way to get the two of you out.” Alcander turned and jumped into the water. The river grabbed him quickly, sucking him and the bubble underneath the rock face and towards the waterfall that came pouring out of the side of the canyon.

Kiora bit her lip, scanning where Alcander just disappeared. “I hope he makes it.”

“Me too. That would be
tragic
if something were to happen to him,” Emane muttered.

Drustan walked past Kiora, his eyes fixed on the silver bracelet he was spinning around his wrist. “I hate this thing,” he growled. Dropping his arm to his side, he began shrinking. The bracelet also started shrinking and matched his size as he shifted. A moment later he turned, falling backwards into the water, his fish tail still forming. Kiora crouched down to watch a tiny silver fish dart towards the falls, a bracelet wrapped around its middle.

Kiora turned to Emane. “Well, it’s just the two of us.” She was interrupted by a loud crack from the Wings; the center snapped into place. Kiora jumped to her feet as pictures formed between the two golden structures.

A dark swirling Shadow slid across the land.

“What is that?” Emane asked.

Kiora tilted her head to the side. “It must be the Shadow.”

“Appropriate.” Emane muttered.

The Shadow was moving through a beautiful land. The colors were bright and brilliant, the vegetation thick and lush. Mountain peaks towered over the green, three peaks tipped with white snowcaps. It was a land suited for royalty in a land of dreams and fairy tales.

The Shadow swirled around in hues of black and gray, morphing from a shapeless form to a body. Head, arms, and legs shrouded in darkness. It moved through the tall grass, clearly searching for something before stopping abruptly. Dropping down, it slithered over the ground, formed into a ball, and sank through the earth. The picture in the Wings followed behind it, tearing through the earth until it reached a hollowed out area. Inside this deep dirt tomb was a brilliant glowing ball.
Kiora had to shade her eyes, squinting to see what happened next.
It was the size of a melon and radiated light where there was none. The Shadow silently poured itself over the top of the ball, extinguishing the light as it gathered it into itself and vanished.

The Wings went black for a second before coming back into focus above ground.
They were looking at the same place the Shadow had slid into the earth, but everything had changed. The colors had muted. The vegetation had wilted. The land of fairy tales was gone and The Shadow was nowhere to be seen.
Kiora heart sunk into her stomach.

The pictures in the Wings began flying again over land and mountain, slowing as it entered a large desert. Kiora had never seen anything like it.
There were mountains upon mountains of sand stretching as far as the eye could see. The sand dunes traveled on into oblivion, no end in sight. The sun shimmered in heat waves across the dunes, creating the illusion that the sand was rolling like the waters of the sea.

The Wings tightened in its picture on one enormous dune. It towered above the rest, the ridge cutting its way through the horizon. No sooner had the Wings settled on the dune than the black Shadow came streaking across the sand. Sand billowed and swirled behind it, making its own storm. It didn’t slow or hesitate as it approached the dune—it slammed straight into it. Again, the pictures followed as it punched through, coming to stop in what she could only assume was the middle. The Shadow released the stone, spinning green magic cords around it. As the cords bound around it, the light diminished until a dull opaque stone sat before the Shadow. The cords looked like they were acting to bind the stone’s power, keeping the light that it held from escaping. Then, from within the Shadow a finger reached out
. Kiora covered her mouth with a tiny gasp
. Whatever this Shadow was, its finger looked very human, or near to it. Long and thin and pale. It touched the stone, and when it did, the stone regained a bit of light directly underneath the fingertip. The light moved up, wrapping its way around the finger and moving deep within the Shadow. Whatever it was, it sucked the light right out of the ball.
Kiora and Emane heard an audible sigh of delight escape from the blackness.
When it removed its finger, sliding back into the depths of the Shadow, the stone returned to its lifeless state, buried beneath tons of sand. Suddenly the top of the Shadow, what Kiora assumed was the head, jerked in their direction as if it could see them.

Kiora reached out, grabbing Emane’s arm as a sick feeling rolled over her. The picture flickered in and out as a piercing shout of anger echoed through the room. Then the Wings went black.

They stood in silence for a few seconds, Kiora’s fingers still wrapped tightly around Emane’s arm. He finally asked, “What just happened?”

Kiora frowned, forcing her fingers to open. Moving closer to the Wings, she peered between them. The middle was still solid, as if it should be showing them something, but it was black as night. “Show me Eleana,” Kiora said.

The Wings obediently fulfilled the request, growing light and focusing on Eleana and Malena. They stood on the same ridge where Kiora had told Emane of this new world they were supposed to save.

“
Do you think it will be enough?” Malena asked, fluttering next to Eleana’s shoulder.

“It is all I can do,” Eleana said, crossing her hands in front of her. “I cannot erect the gate again. The most I can do is give back the illusion that once existed.”

“But without the other enchantments, it will be just that, an illusion. Once someone wanders into it—”

“I know,” Eleana interrupted. “But it is all I can do. Hopefully it will buy Kiora and Emane the time they need.” She raised her hands and began chanting in a language Kiora didn’t understand. Under her touch the lush forest around the base of the mountain reverted back to what people thought it was, a barren desert with dunes stretching out over where the valley of Meros lay.

“Show me the Shadow,” Kiora demanded. The picture once again turned completely black.

Kiora turned to Emane, eyes wide. “Something is blocking it.”

“Are you sure?” Emane asked.

“I don’t see any other explanation,” Kiora said, fiddling with the side of her pant leg. “There is nothing wrong with the Wings. They worked when I asked to be shown something else. It’s only blocked when it tries to see the Shadow.”

“Great,” Emane groaned, dropping into one of the two chairs Lomay had left swirling for them. “Now we are stuck here until Lomay comes and gets us. Then we have to tell him we found the location of
one
of the missing lights before the Wings went black.”

“It’s one more than we knew before,” Kiora offered, sitting next to him.

“Kiora,” Emane said softly, putting his hand over hers. “This is crazy. You know that, right?”

“What is?”

“All of it. This world, the state of it. The jewels, or lights—or whatever they’re called.” He stopped, swallowing. “How are we going to do this?”

She knew what he meant. They were up against something more powerful than they had ever seen, something powerful enough to turn the Wings black. And she had a deep feeling that they still had no comprehension of what they were dealing with. They were in a strange land with strange people and strange customs. A place where humans didn’t exist. They were in so far over their heads she couldn’t see the top. Despite that, she couldn’t deny what she knew. It
had
to be her, had to be them. That feeling nagged at her heart, pulling deeper than the fear that had settled in her stomach.

“I don’t know how we will do it, but we will,” Kiora said, more weakly than she wanted to. Looking up into Emane’s eyes, she added, “If we don’t, everyone will die, including our people. Our valley can never be shut off again, which means the only way for us to save it is to save everything else.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Wings of Tavea

LAYLA CONCENTRATED ON THE rocks, trying to make them move. She had been at it for hours with no luck. Yesterday she had been trying to make water move. Nothing had happened. Layla’s frustration was growing and Dralazar could feel it.

“What do you feel?” Dralazar asked.

“Nothing,” Layla practically shouted. “You keep asking me that and I don’t feel anything. I don’t know what you want me to do. I don’t know what you want me to feel.”

“I want you to feel the magic responding to your desire.” Dralazar spoke far too evenly, a forced patience he had to employ quite frequently since Layla had arrived. In all these years he had never taken the time to train anybody. Then again, he had never been handed the sister of the Solus on a silver platter. “I want you to find that magic in the pit of your stomach, a reservoir to pull from, to transfer your will into reality. Kiora learned how to do it.”

Layla’s head jerked at the mention of her sister’s name. “She already knew how.”

“No! She didn’t. She had visions, dreams. It is a gift, but it is not magic. Would you like to know how I know?” he asked, stepping closer to her, his eyes tightening. “I had been looking for the Solus, watching for any magical threads. Had I sensed one, even the tiniest amount of potential in the village—” He wrapped his finger around a lock of Layla’s hair before letting it slide free. “I would have come through your front door in the middle of the night and killed her in her bed.”

Layla’s eyes grew round. “This is not working,” she whispered. “I don’t know what else to do.”

Dralazar could tell by the slump of her shoulders that she had given up. His patience finally snapped. Perhaps survival would be enough motivation. He took three large steps back. Flinging out his good hand, he spewed forth fire. The flames landed to the side of Layla before flaring higher and racing around her, quickly enclosing her within a circle of fire.

“What are you doing?” Layla screamed, turning in a panicked circle.

Dralazar looked calmly over the flames to her beautiful, terrified face. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Control the fire, Layla. If you don’t, it will kill you.”

“Dralazar, help me.” Layla backed up, screaming as the flames licked at her legs and back. There was nowhere to go.

“Help yourself,” Dralazar said, tilting his head to the side. “How can we expect to beat Kiora without you discovering your magic?”

Layla started to whimper, sweat poured down her face. “It hurts.”

Dralazar took a step towards the death trap. “No!” he said. “No fear! Anger. Feel the anger. Anger will feed your magic.” Dralazar made his way around the circle, Layla’s fearful eyes following him. “I think you have forgotten why you are here in the first place. This is Kiora’s fault.” Dralazar pushed at her, searching for the rage he knew was in there. “The war, the training. Your home is gone because of her, your friends are dead because of her. Push back the fire, Layla.”

Layla screamed in pain as the flames grew higher. Then he saw a flicker in her eyes that he thrived on.
There it is,
Dralazar thought.
The anger.

With a yell Layla pushed her magic out. The fire flickered and shrunk before her. Layla’s eyes widened, her chest heaving with a chocked sound of relief, but Dralazar had no mercy. He called the fire back to its full size.

“More,” he shouted. “Feel the hate, use it, push back the fire.”

Layla opened up the reservoir of feelings he knew lay within her, screaming as she pushed the fire back further and further.

“It’s not enough,” he yelled. “Extinguish it.”

Layla threw her head back, yelling to the sky as she shoved her hands out and down, forcing the fire into the ground. The only thing left was a smoldering black ring.

“Very good,” Dralazar said, crossing his arms in front of him.

Layla’s eyes scanned the charred ring before slowly meeting Dralazar’s gaze. Black streaks ran down her reddened face. “You were going to let it kill me, weren’t you?”

Dralazar walked smoothly over to his prey. “Layla, my Queen, why would I hurt you?”

“I could see it in your eyes.” Her voice trembled, a mix of fear and anger. “If I couldn’t control this, you were going to let me burn.”

Dralazar reached out a finger, running it down the side of her face. “I knew you could do it, my pet. I had faith in you. You did marvelously.”

“No.” Layla shook her head.

Dralazar slid his hand behind Layla’s neck and pulled her into him. “ Focus your anger where it belongs,” he whispered before jerking her forward. He roughly pressed his lips against hers, his fingers tightening around the back of her neck. Dralazar felt Layla’s tension melting beneath him. “Come,” he said. “There is still much to do.”

Layla trailed behind him like a puppy following an abusive master. Dralazar smiled inwardly. He had a large list of skills; breaking people down and building them back up was one of them. And the beautiful part—they never realized what was happening until they became completely dependent. It was a slower process than he would have liked, but once it started it never failed.

Later that evening after putting his newest pet to bed, Dralazar paced around his throne room. It had been nearly two weeks since the battle. Since then there had been no sign of Kiora or the villagers. He had allowed the Hounds to wander freely, and the Dragons were searching for her too. The Fallen Ones had also been looking for holes, trying to find where they were hiding. So far everyone had come up empty handed. He didn’t like the feeling . . . like he had forgotten something.