Wings of Nestor (21 page)

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Authors: Devri Walls

Tags: #Young Adult, #magic, #YA, #dragons, #fantasy, #shapeshifters, #Adventure, #angels

BOOK: Wings of Nestor
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“What else?”

“Widen your eyes,” Drustan said. “And lengthen your chin. That should do it.”

“Oh, is that all?” Kiora grumbled, resisting the urge to throw a bolt of magic at him for the suggestion. The second she touched the sides of her eyes, it felt as if someone had inserted sticks under her eyelids, prying them wider as the bones shifted in her head. Hurriedly, she touched her chin and clenched her teeth as the bones in her chin jutted out. The pain in her face slowly faded as the bones settled into place.

A deliberate shove in her mind refocused her attention to the evil wrapping her thread. It had sensed her weakness during the pain and was pushing in again, trying to take over. Shoving it back in place, she said to the others, “Come on.”

The three marched out from under their concealment and straight toward the village. The streets were narrow, with doorways from the small dwellings spilling out on each side. Creatures yelled at each other down streets and through windows. A fight broke out behind them shortly after they passed by a group of Taveans and Shifters. She looked over her shoulder just as a Tavean threw a Shifter across the street and into the side of a house. Several wooden shingles rained down on his head, insults ringing out as the Shifter began to turn into something tall with large claws.

“Eyes forward,” Alcander murmured at her side. “Don’t look at anything too long. You already stand out.”

“What do you mean, I stand out?” Discreetly scanning the area, she noticed that more than one set of eyes were trained on her, each looking away as she caught their gaze.

“Your thread is powerful—they are wondering who you are. Most threads of your strength are known to them.”

Someone reached out, touching her arm. She whirled on the strange Tavean. “Get your hands off me!”

The Tavean put his hands up in a gesture of no harm, but stepped in closer. “I don’t believe we have met.”

“No, we haven’t,” she snapped. “And we aren’t going to now.” She stormed off, Alcander and Drustan on her heels.

“That was…convincing,” Drustan said from her left.

“I wasn’t trying to be convincing,” she said. “I am just so angry. I
hate
this.”

They had almost made it through the village when Alcander froze. She turned around to question him before following his steely gaze.

The Tavean in the middle of the road was handsome. His leather shirt was open, exposing a muscular chest. Hanging on a cord around his neck was a fang as long as Kiora’s hand. He exuded an air of danger without even trying. His eyes glittered red and his black hair hung down to the middle of his back. His posture was equally as proud as Alcander’s.

“Who is that?” Kiora whispered.

The vein in Alcander’s neck was tight and strained, his jaw clenching as a flash of red passed through his eyes. That scared her more than anything she had ever seen, so much so that she nearly lost hold of the spell disguising them. The bones in her chin slid back to their old shape. She grappled to regain control and painfully snapped the bones into place. Kiora prayed the change had been small enough that no one had noticed.

Alcander started forward, murder written on his face. Drustan grabbed his arm but Alcander shook him off, firing a spell that hit right beside Drustan’s foot and sending dirt spraying in all directions.

“That was a warning, Shifter. Touch me again and I won’t miss.”

A few people turned their direction, but most moved on without a second look.

“Al— ” Kiora stopped before she blew their cover. She ran in front of him. “What is wrong with you?”

He grabbed both her arms so tightly that she winced, and then he opened up a memory to her. The Tavean sat astride Alcander’s ravaged mother. He delivered the killing blow.

“I will end him,” Alcander seethed as he closed his mind again.

Drustan started toward Alcander, but Kiora held up her hand. Drustan froze, glaring at Alcander’s back. She had to get them out of here before someone got killed.

“You can’t do this.”

Alcander went to move around her and she sidestepped, pushing her hand into his chest. “Listen to me. I know you want—” She breathed out through her nose. “Hell, I want to right now.” Between the anger and his memories, she wanted to blow a hole through the Tavean. Murder—a thought that had never been anything but horrifying was now riddled with appeal. “But if we do that, we are not walking out of here alive. I won’t be able to hold this spell in a fight—you know it and I know it. Your nose is already reverting back to its old shape. I am losing hold on it. If this fails and you are recognized, everything will be lost. Lomay is waiting with the women and children you have sworn to protect. Don’t do this! Not today.”

The Tavean and the group he was with had changed direction, talking amongst themselves.

“King Aimon sent word—the preparations are almost in place,” the one who had killed Alcander’s mother said to his companions as they passed. “Then the Shadow will track down the remaining resistance.”

The others laughed as the Tavean stopped, turning to face Alcander whose angry gaze was still glued to him. “Do you have a problem?”

Alcander’s jaw tightened as his fingers twitched at his sides.

“Hey!” Drustan yelled from behind them. “Are you going to finish what you started, Tavean?” He held out his arms in a challenge.

Alcander turned slowly, his eyes fixating on Drustan in murderous frustration.

“What? You are good with killing
women and children
, but a Shifter is too much for you?” The way he emphasized “women and children,” Kiora knew exactly what he was doing—reminding Alcander of the stakes.

The Tavean Alcander so desperately wanted to kill laughed before sauntering away to rejoin his friends.

Kiora grabbed his arm. “We are leaving. Now!”

Drustan followed them as she pulled Alcander out of camp. Once over the hill, she threw a bubble a second before she dropped the spell. She and Alcander both grunted, falling to the ground in pain as their faces jerked back into place.

Alcander peeled himself up as he broke the enchantment that had called the evil to them. He gave a reluctant sidelong glance at Drustan. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” With a glint in his eyes, Drustan added, “Do you mind if I apply your ‘thank you’ to all of the other times you should have said it?”

Alcander helped Kiora up. “Yes, I mind.”

Drustan shrugged. “It was worth a try.”

“Your eyes,” Kiora said. “They turned red for a second.”

Alcander looked away. “I wasn’t prepared to see him. It…it broke through.”

“Are you all right now?”

Alcander nodded.

“Are you sure?” Drustan asked. “We can’t show you the entrance to this city if you are going to turn on us.”

“That murderer is still alive, and your head is still attached.” He cocked his head to the side. “Answer your question?”

“Oh, good—Alcander is back. I don’t know what I would have done if he had suddenly started thanking me incessantly. That would have been unbearable.”

“Who is King Aimon?” Kiora asked.


Aimon
is my uncle.” Alcander said, making it very clear that he had omitted the title of “king” on purpose. “It looks like the Shadow is prepared to come out of hiding to help her forces.”

“How long do you think we have?”

“I don’t know. But once the Shadow starts roaming, no one is safe. The barriers will all fall—every hideout will be discovered.”

Kiora turned to the black castle that loomed across the meadow between the village and the lake. “Not every one.”

Drustan came up next to her. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Nestor sealed the magic with his death. It is immune to her talisman.”

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Drustan said so cheerily she wanted to smack him.

Kiora reached out for threads. “You are right, Alcander. There is only one thread coming from the castle—an Illusionist.”

“Yes. A powerful one, by the feel of it,” Alcander said.

Another burst of red rose up above them, exploding into tiny bits of bubble-shattering magic.

“If we could get to the turrets, maybe we could figure out where it’s hiding,” Kiora said.

Drustan shifted into a dragon. “Done.” At Alcander’s look, he said, “I will fly low, Prince. I am not stupid.”

With Alcander and Kiora on his back, Drustan skimmed the ground until just before the castle walls where he cut upward and swooped in, landing on top of the tallest tower. Grunting, Drustan pulled back his foot in surprise, looking down at the stone.

“What is it?” Alcander asked, sliding off with Kiora right behind him.

“Nothing. It felt strange for a second.”

“Feels fine to me.”

No sooner had she said it than the tower rolled beneath them, the bricks moving like water. Kiora was knocked off her feet.

The edges of the tower began to grow around them.

“Get on!” Drustan yelled. “Now!”

Alcander threw Kiora on Drustan’s back before climbing up himself. Drustan flew straight up.

“Not so high!” Alcander yelled.

Dropping a little, Drustan hovered. “
That
is the largest Illusionist I have ever seen.”

‘What are you talking about?” Alcander asked.

“The tower is the Illusionist. The whole
thing
is the Illusionist.”

“But how…” Kiora trailed off as her eyes took in the massive scope of the illusion below them.

“I knew there were some powerful Illusionists,” Drustan continued. “But this—I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t felt it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense—how did it know we were there? We were bubbled,” Kiora asked.

Drustan laughed. “Because we believed it was real.”

“The tower became solid because of our belief,” Alcander ventured.

“Letting the Illusionist know exactly where we were,” Drustan finished.

“We know what it is now,” Kiora said. “All we have to do is walk through it.”

“Right,” Alcander said slowly, sounding unconvinced.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“It’s too easy,” Drustan said. “We are missing something.”

“We are,” Alcander agreed. “But it doesn’t matter—we aren’t going to figure it out until we go in.”

Kiora’s eyes scanned the horizon. “Drustan, land in front of the main gates and let’s hope the grass is real.”

Drustan set them down a small ways from the gate. “All right,” he said, stretching his wings out. “How would you like to do this?”

“Just take us straight in,” Kiora said.

“Are you ready for this?” Drustan asked.

“I think so.”

Drustan’s giant head swiveled slowly back to look at her. “There is no ‘thinking so’ when dealing with an Illusionist. Need I remind you?”

Taking a deep breath, Kiora stared at the massive stonewalls in front of her. It looked very real.
This is just an illusion
, she reminded herself. Closing her eyes, she breathed out slowly, focusing. “I’m ready.”

Drustan took them a few feet off the ground before barreling forward. They passed through the wall easily. On the other side, Kiora could see hundreds of tree illusions stretching out in front of them. Behind the trees stood what looked like another wall. Drustan cut through the tree illusions easily. The next second, she was unseated, flying through the air. Drustan roared. Crashing into the ground, Kiora rolled. Pain exploded up through her shoulder.

Frantically, she pushed off the ground. Alcander was a few feet to her right, unconscious. Drustan lay crumpled in front of her inside a large dragon-shaped hole where he had slammed into the ground. One of his wings bent at a horrible angle. She realized with horror that she had dropped the bubble, which meant that all of their threads were headed back to the villages.

Running toward Alcander, Kiora threw a bubble up, shaking him frantically. “Alcander! Alcander!”

His eyes flickered open with a moan. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, but we have to get to Drustan. He’s not bubbled.”

Alcander stumbled to his feet. His eyes were glassy and he shook his head as if to clear it.

Running, Kiora fell next to Drustan’s head, pulling a bubble over the three of them. “Drustan, what happened?”

“Somebody started believing,” he growled, thrashing his head to the side. “That’s what happened.”

Kiora looked to Alcander, who was looking at her.

“I didn’t believe,” she protested. “Not even a little bit.”

Alcander’s eyebrows pulled themselves together before he vanished under his own bubble.

“Alcander!” Kiora shouted.

Drustan moaned again. “My wing is broken.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, feeling frantic but unable to do anything.

His eyes rolled up to her. “It is
broken,
Kiora. What else could it possibly mean?”

“No! I mean, if you shift—
can
you shift?”

“I can. But it’s going to hurt. And I’ll still have a broken arm.”

“We need Emane,” she whispered to herself. “I should have brought him.”

Alcander reappeared within her bubble, cradling his fist. “It’s only half the Illusionist,” he said grimly.

Drustan turned his head, dropping it back to the ground with a thump. “What?”

Alcander held up his bloody knuckles. “I put my fist through five trees, cleanly. The sixth one was actually a tree.”

Drustan chuckled and then started to laugh before wincing from his broken wing. “Brilliant.”

Kiora looked out over the hundreds of trees and the wall behind it. “How do we know what is real and what’s not?”

“We don’t. That’s the problem.” Alcander said. “Drustan is right—it’s brilliant. We are going to have to walk around the trees until we reach the next wall.”

Drustan started shifting. As he did, a yell of absolute pain bellowed forth. A moment later, he lay gasping, pushing up on one arm as the other hung limply at his side—horribly bowed in the middle.

“Drustan,” Kiora moaned. “Why did you shift?”

Alcander jogged to Drustan’s good side, helping pull him up.

“A dragon is too big to maneuver through the trees.” Drustan grunted, sweat beading across his forehead. “Come on—we have to go. The villages surely felt our threads when we were thrown out of the bubble.”

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