Oriana's Eyes (26 page)

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Authors: Celeste Simone

BOOK: Oriana's Eyes
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The Winglarion’s weapons waver before striking downward together in one smooth movement. Dorian’s fingers snap closed, and he cries, “NOOO!” The part-bloods come to life, some dodging the attack, others unable to react quickly enough. I see Jagger take the blow in his leg as he rolls sideways to avoid a second.

Dorian has found a way to deflect Odon’s hold on the others. I sense him in my own mind, trying to push aside the coldness. But Odon is too close, and his hold much stronger on me than on them. Dorian continues toward us. His eyes focus in and out as he tries to concentrate on the minds of the others as well as the scene before him. He is not as well trained as Odon. He pauses to concentrate again, his fingers reaching for his temples and his eyes closing. He takes another step forward. The next is more difficult. Then I realize he is fighting Odon. I turn to look at Odon, who is still beside me, one hand resting on my hair. I can feel his power flowing through that palm. His other hand extends toward Dorian. The corners of his lips turn upward.

Dorian stops, unable to take another step, his eyes clamped shut, the sweat now dripping down his jaw. I watch helplessly as he struggles against Odon’s will. There is a moment where he gasps for air, trying to force himself to breathe. Out of the corner of my eye I notice a streak of white. Odon has sent a Winglarion after Dorian. He plunges toward him, lifting his weapon above his head to drive straight through Dorian’s torso. I try to scream, wanting to fling myself at him, even merely close my eyes. But I am unable to do anything.

Beside him a figure appears. Her bow is raised as she reaches for an arrow. Azura uses her body as a shield, searching desperately for an arrow that does not exist. When she realizes there is nothing to grasp, she stands tall, tensing her muscles to stop them from trembling. Dorian stands beside her, unaware of her presence as he fights to hold back Odon.

I watch as the Winglarion approaches, unmoved by the scene below, weapon willing to run through anything in its path. At last my breath escapes me, and I scream, a piercing note that somehow cuts through Odon’s hold for one moment.

The Winglarion’s blade thrusts into the body, stabbing through to the other side, releasing the life in a deep red liquid that stains the white floor. Liam sinks to the ground, the weapon still protruding from his chest as his eyes darken. He had thrown himself in front of Azura, protecting her at the last second from the Winglarion’s sword.

Dorian comes to life at the sound of my voice. Knocking back the Winglarion with a wave of his hand, he continues toward Odon and me. There is a look upon his face that is frightening to witness.

Behind him, Azura rests Liam’s head against her thigh, sobbing into his limp form.

 

 CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Inside I am ripping apart with sorrow, wishing I had been able to help in some way but still powerless to do so. Liam had loved Azura enough to give his life to save her. Now he will never share that love with her.

Dorian reaches the platform, glaring up at Odon with a full-fledged hatred. “Your life ends now Odon,” he says, beginning to climb the steps, “Your reign of damage is over. I will see to that myself!”

Odon pulls me up, using me as a shield against Dorian. His hand grips my neck, but it is within that I am being strangled.

“Let her go, Odon!” Dorian shouts, there are tears trembling in his eyes and his body shakes in the grip of hostility.

“It’s too late! She’s already mine!” He pulls me backward to the end of the platform. I open my mouth, trying to draw in breath but powerless to do so. My lungs burn and writhe in pain. I wish to strike him, beat at his hold with my fists, but I still cannot move. Tears escape the corners of my eyes, running down my cheeks and flooding my open mouth.

Dorian watches me, I see the hurt in his eyes; the torture at seeing me struggle. Around us the fight continues. The part-bloods hold back the onslaught of Odon’s Winglarions. Somewhere Azura holds Liam in her arms, somewhere Jagger limps to Dugan’s aid. Somewhere Malise and Aaron wait staring at the sky wondering if today will bring freedom. Odon reaches the edge of the platform, Dorian now cornering him. “Release her now!”

“I think not!” Odon spits. From behind us Winglarions appear. Two take Odon’s arms and lift him upward. My breath returns as the last grabs my limp form and moves to take me away. “You’ve failed again!! Not only have you allowed me to increase my army, but you’ve handed me your precious pureblood.” The Winglarions fly us toward the opening as Odon calls down, his voice gaining strength as our distance increases, “Foolish child, you are even weaker than the other! You didn’t even have the courage to try to kill me!”

The Winglarions hover in midair, wings beating simultaneously. Odon grows quiet, but I cannot lift my head to see what he has planned. I notice that our height begins to decrease, the Winglarion descending to the central platform below.

The auditorium has grown quiet, the part-bloods and Winglarions no longer fighting. Instead they look to Dorian, their faces blank, as if awaiting orders. The scene makes my skin crawl as the Winglarions touch down on the smooth white floor and place me on my feet. I feel Dorian’s warmth enveloping me, and I am able to stand. When I am released, I run to his side, grabbing hold of his arm and turning to face Odon in triumph.

The Winglarions hold him fast, but I see that Odon is incapable of moving on his own anyway.

“Thought you were going to get away?” Dorian says with a sneer. “Did you think I’d let you take Oriana?” He smirks, stepping toward Odon and freeing his arm from my grasp. I find myself rooted to the floor, but it is not Odon who holds my body in place.

Dorian paces in front of Odon’s face; although Dorian is not as wide in girth, they share the same height. Odon blinks silently, the struggle in his eyes apparent. He is trying to wrench free of Dorian’s grasp. It’s not just Odon that Dorian holds prisoner. I look around at the many faces, each maintaining an expressionless gaze. Dorian has taken over the entire room, including myself.

I turn my attention back to Dorian, where Odon’s face is slowly turning blue from lack of air. With a gesture from Dorian, the Winglarions step backward, allowing Odon to fall to his knees his fingers raking at his throat.

I move to stop him, to get Dorian’s attention. He must not kill Odon. But it is Dorian now who stops me. I have become lost in the minds of the others he is keeping in place. I speak his name, trying to nudge at him from within. “Dorian.”

He stops for a moment, has he heard me? Odon reels on the ground, his life fading fast.

“Dorian!” I shout louder in my mind, desperately fighting his hold.

He faces me, but I barely recognize him. His expression scares me. I can see he is consumed with power and revenge. When our eyes meet, I see him flicker within: the Dorian I know, the one who would not hold his friends as prisoners.

I search my mind now that I have his attention I must speak something that will bring him back. If I do not act quickly he may be lost forever, burned up by the force that now flows strongly within him.

“Dorian, please, you’ve done enough. It’s okay now.” I hear my voice in my head speak warmly, beckoning him to me. “Come with me, we can be together now.”

He takes a step toward me, his face losing its anger as we make eye contact. I see Odon’s tense body begin to relax.

“You must not kill Odon,” I begin, but that is all wrong. The moment I mention Odon’s name Dorian turns away from me, and I see Odon grasping at his neck once again. Dorian has always reacted against me when I’ve brought up Odon before. I have told him he must not seek revenge, and he reacted defensively. I search my brain. How can I make him realize what I have come to know?

The words come to me all at once in perfect clarity. Narena’s words.
If ever you should stray, your only way back is through the eyes of the one who truly loves you.
I repeat the sentence in my mind, focusing on Dorian. I alter my struggle against him and instead allow his hold to completely enter my mind. He is pulled inward, his power too strong for him to withhold without practice. In an instant he is behind my eyes, the place where Odon had seen my memories through my mind, and he is feeling my emotions and remembering all my past experiences. Dorian sees himself through my eyes, he sees who he has become. The hatred in his eyes, the uncontrollable anger leading him to murder, to become the evil he has striven to defeat.

I sense him pull back in horror at his own image. His powers retreat to his mind, and I watch as the others blink into awareness. Even the Winglarions open their eyes with a new vision, experiencing the freedom of conscious thought.

Dorian backs away as Odon gets to his feet, eyes bloodshot and face a scarlet red. “You … you didn’t kill me … you coward!!” Odon spasms, a look of panic on his face as he stumbles backward. His mind reaches out for mine, and I can feel him probing for an opening, but Dorian is beside me, and when his hand touches mine, Odon’s power dissipates completely from my senses.

“What are we to do with him?” Tor stands beside Dorian on the platform watching the pitiful sight of Odon in a disordered outrage.

“He will not be a threat to us any longer,” Dorian affirms.

“How can you be certain?” Finley joins us, looking down with distaste at the broken man.

“I can hold back his attacks. I can’t explain it any more than that,” Dorian explains.

I am suddenly struck with a memory, and I release Dorian’s hand and rush down the platform steps to where Liam has fallen. Azura lies beside him, grasping his hand as Liam holds on to his last moments in life.

“You can’t leave, Liam! This is all my fault … it was me you were trying to protect …” Azura’s face is broken. So crippling is the sight that I nearly break down before even reaching her. I swallow any sobs and straighten my back. I must be strong for her.

I kneel beside her and Liam as he mutters her name. “Azura …”

“I’m here, Liam.”

She does not notice me beside her until I place my hand on her shoulder. I look down at Liam. His wound cuts directly through his vitals. His life will not last much longer.

“Azura, I’ve wanted to tell you …”

“I know, Liam, I’ve always known,” she whimpers, her hand reaching to caress his face. Her tears splatter upon his wound thick with blood.

“I need to tell you, I love you …” He gasps for air as the blood fills his lungs further.

Azura shakes, her weeping becoming uncontrollable so that she is almost unable to answer. “I love you too.” Liam’s face becomes peaceful as he looks upon her one last time before closing his eyes forever. It is then that Azura turns to me, wrapping her arms around me and releasing her sorrow into my shoulder. I remain silent, knowing my own tears will only make it harder for her.

I feel warmth beside me, and I turn to see Dorian and the others standing over us. Dugan holds Jagger up, but the others seem to have only minor injuries.

We begin to gather others who have departed during battle, pureblood and part-blood alike, working alongside the Winglarions, who appear to remain in a state of confusion. Do they remember when they were younger? Their families or old homes? Or have they always been under Odon’s control and know nothing else.

One of the younger Winglarions approaches Dorian cautiously. Together we turn awaiting the words that he is having difficult producing.

“Where are we to go?” Other Winglarions join behind him, supporting his courage for speaking what had been on all their minds.

Dorian’s mouth opens for a moment before any sound comes out. “I … I don’t know. Wherever you please, you are free now.”

“But,” the Winglarion begins.

“We do not know what to do, where to stay,” a second finishes for him.

My thoughts move to Lenora and the other students who left not long ago. Are they facing the same situation?

“Your place is in the sky,” Tor says soothingly, “as Winglarions. I believe you will feel most suited there.”

The Winglarions look around at their fallen comrades. Some turn to glance at Odon, who remains upon the platform, muttering to himself.

“We will provide them with a proper burial,” Tor continues and then jabs a thumb in Odon’s direction. “And you do not have to worry about him anymore. You’re safe as long as you remain in these lands. Outside them, Dorian cannot provide protection for you from others like him.”

The Winglarions look toward Dorian, further uncertainty upon their faces, “How will we know,” the first one asks, “if we leave?”

Dorian’s expression takes on a certainty. “You will know.” It is then that I feel his presence, not that of an icy grip, but the shield of his power in the air surrounding us. I wonder if the others feel it as I do.

The Winglarions nod, still unsure whether to believe him and proving that they do not feel what I can. Their faces turn upward, and they rise into the air with the first stroke of powerful wings. Wings that I long to possess as well. I find Dorian’s hand resting in mine, and a soothing energy flows over me. I smile slyly at him, “Get out of my head!” I say mentally.

He gives me a grin, his eyes sparking as he answers me without speaking, “You’re the one who let me in.” I realize he’s right, when I had forced him to see through my eyes, I had opened my mind to him. Now his presence will forever remain.

“Tor! We have found the remaining students and professors, but none of the Odonians.” A part-blood boy leads the stray students toward us. There are so many young faces, not just of the eldest grades but those below. Their numbers stretch backward up the aisle and past the doorway, probably stretching even farther.

Glancing at Tor, I can see he is overwhelmed, unsure how to accommodate so many. I notice the professors moving toward us, meandering around the frightened children. One of them I recognize as a teacher from long ago. He does not recognize me as he approaches, a part-blood female following close behind him.

“What has happened?” he asks. I can tell he is struggling with memories that do not seem real. Dorian and I keep our distance as Tor boldly explains the occurrences of recent years. The look on the faces of those listening tells that his words are reaffirming hazy visions of their past. When their attention is drawn to Odon, Tor’s words take on a stronger clarity.

It is evening before arrangements can be made for those of the University. The remaining adults are left in charge until further organization can be put into effect. Tor makes the final decision to stay behind, where he will be able to assist the professors in their task. There are so many children, and so much has changed in such a short time. Several part-bloods from the Great Oak volunteer to remain with Tor and help the others settle into their newfound freedom. The rest of us depart for the Great Oak, eager to be home once again and share the good news with friends left behind.

The sun’s red eye watches us as we carry those lost to us from the University. I watch the sky, hoping to see any of the purebloods returning, hoping Lenora might be among them, but the sky is empty. Behind us, Odon is being led by two of our strongest part-bloods. Although Dorian insists he will remain harmless, Finley is adamant about the extra precaution. I notice that Buck is not one of the two.

“Where is Buck?” I ask, walking beside Dorian.

He glances at me and then turns to the forest ahead of us. “Buck was lost at the Great Oak when Odon’s men came.”

My stomach sinks, “Then Odon
did
attack?” I’ve been hoping that my communication with Dorian prevented any damage. I was wrong.

“Were there others?” I ask hesitantly.

“Yes, some other part-bloods, but no one very young. It might’ve been worse if I hadn’t spoken to you.” He forces a smile, trying to hide how much Odon’s actions had hurt him.

“Dorian, it was all my fault. Odon found the way to the Great Oak by using my memories! If I hadn’t …”

Dorian nods grimly, “I suspected as much, but we can’t think of our mistakes. It wasn’t your fault.” His second attempt at a smile is more genuine. “Think of how many you have saved today.”

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