Wings of Nestor (31 page)

Kiora ran to Emane, sliding next to him, her shield shrinking due to her distraction. “Emane! Are you all right?”

“I can’t move.”

“Heal yourself.”

He gritted his teeth. “Kiora, I can’t
move
. I think I broke my spine. I can’t get my arm to it.”

A wall of fire crackled through the top of the door. Kiora pulled her shield in tight around them as she grabbed the arm he was lying on and pulled it from underneath him. Gently bending it at the elbow, she angled it around so he could touch his back.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Emane groaned. “I can’t feel anything.”

“Hey,” Kiora said, trying to calm the panic she sensed is his voice. “You don’t need to feel it. Your magic responds to your will, and your will is just fine.”

Swallowing, Emane closed his eyes. The doors rattled again. Kiora glanced behind her to see another set of doors push open a couple of inches, pressing against the magical bonds that were keeping it closed. Kiora reached out, reinforcing the bond and slamming it shut.

Emane’s arm moved as he flopped back to the ground.

“It worked! You did it,” Kiora cried.

“No, I didn’t.” Emane said. “I used too much magic healing Drustan. I don’t have enough left.”

There was a clang as the staff once again rattled across the floor. Alcander and the king continued their fight as if unaware of anything else. They were both bleeding, their faces blazing with hatred.

“I can’t just leave you here,” Kiora said. “I am going to give you some magic.”

“No!” Emane yelled, trying to push her away. “The last time you did that, you almost died.”

Another pillar of fire flew past her, flanked by magical volleys, trying to hit the target she was too busy to shield. Luckily, Alcander was still out of range.

“Emane, shut up and listen to me. We are going to have to fight whatever comes through those doors and I can’t have you lying in a pile on the floor. I have enough magic to help you heal.”

“But the battle,” Emane groaned. “The Light!”

“We will finish it all,” she said, grabbing his face. She knew she wouldn’t shock him because her magic was more depleted than usual. “We will finish this with you standing next to me. Do you understand?”

Emane turned away, but nodded his consent. Placing her hand on Emane’s shoulder, she willed the magic to transfer to him, replenishing his armband.

She helped him place his hand on his back. Emane healed himself, rolling to his feet as soon as it was finished. Her shield lit up under another attack and Kiora pursed her lips, looking at the unrelenting assailants.

“You deal with that. I will go help Alcander,” Emane said.

“Be careful.”

“Always.” He kissed her quickly on the cheek. “Thank you.”

Alcander yelled as a shot from his uncle caught him in the chest, sending him crashing into the overturned throne. Emane darted out from underneath the shield. The king was advancing on Alcander, raising his hand to take a shot. Emane threw himself between the two, and his shield deflected the blow.

Kiora reached out in another attempt to reinforce the door, but a huge burst of wind shattered it. The Taveans howled their excitement as they climbed over the splintered pieces and flooded into the room.

***

“EMANE,” ALCANDER GRUNTED, TRYING to ignore the searing pain in his elbow.

“Come on, get up.” Emane looked over as Taveans began pouring through the failed door. “We are obviously out of time.”

Kiora sent forth a shield that exploded with a boom, spanning from wall to wall.

The king finally turned his attention to her, and that’s when Emane charged. With a dismissive bat of his hand, Aimon sent Emane rolling to one side. He whirled on him like a mad dog. “You dare come at me?” he yelled. “As if something like
you
could defeat someone like
me
?”

Alcander threw a bolt of magic, hitting Aimon in the spine. Aimon stumbled forward, turning awkwardly. Alcander had done some damage.

Emane rose to his feet, sliding to the side and quickly bringing his sword level to the king’s heart. His eyes moved to Alcander, silently asking him if he wanted to kill Aimon himself.

The king looked over to Alcander with withering disdain. “Are you going to let him kill me? With that dishonorable piece of metal?”

“Alcander! Emane!” Kiora cried, stepping back as soldier after soldier threw magic against the barrier she had placed. “I am using a lot of magic, and we still have to get out of here!” She stepped back again, the barrier sliding with her, allowing more to enter the room.

“She should be quite low by now,” the king cooed. “The Solus has been using an incredible amount of magic while you have been toying with me, Alcander. And where is Lomay? Freeing the people, no doubt. Leaving the three of you alone to fight the whole of Tav—”

“Enough!” Alcander raised his hand for the killing shot when Kiora’s barrier rippled and the first burst of attack magic tore through near the top.

At the distraction, the Tavean king sent out a flare of magic. Alcander was thrown backwards again, and Emane was pushed the other way. The king bubbled and was gone.

Alcander rolled in agony. His right leg had snapped. “Emane,” he called. “Emane!”

Alcander saw Emane against the back wall. Blood was running down a gash on his forehead. He was out cold.

***

“KIORA, WATCH OUT!”

Kiora turned to look just as the king’s fingers wrapped around her throat. The barrier faded into nothing.

“Stop!” the king cried to the forces on the other side. “I will deal with this little girl myself.”

Alcander fired a shot, but his magic was growing weak and it sputtered out before reaching its target.

“Try it again, nephew,” the king sneered, tightening his grip on Kiora. “And I will take my time killing her, just as my lieutenant did with your dear mother.”

Kiora gasped, her fingers raking at Aimon’s, trying to relieve the pressure on her throat. Alcander’s face turned bright red and he struggled to pull himself up, his leg hanging at an unnatural angle.

Stop,
Kiora thought.
I will be all right

You are out of magic,
Alcander thought back. A rush of worry for her laced his thoughts. Fear for her, and absolute hatred for the man who had her by the neck.

I am
almost
out of magic.
She closed her eyes, trying to focus as black spots swam across her vision.

“Using all your magic was foolish,” Aimon whispered in her ear. Pulling back, he yelled to the group of Taveans spilling through the door. “See—your Solus!”

They jeered at her as she dangled in the king’s arms. She knew how helpless she must look.

“The one who is supposed to save us all.” Aimon laughed. “She cannot even save herself!”

He lowered her just enough for her toes to touch the floor, allowing her to suck in the air she so desperately needed.

“She brings with her my pathetic nephew, heir to the throne of Tavea. A boy who is too weak to fight for his title and instead hides in rebel camps.” He glanced over his shoulder as Emane groaned and began to stir. “And then we have her Protector, a Witow. A worthless boy who threatens
my
life with a worthless sword.”

“A sword is not worthless,” Kiora said, her voice a mere whisper.

The king laughed. “What was that, oh great Solus?”

“I said a sword is not worthless!” The sword appeared in her hand and she plunged it through his stomach, twisting it as roughly as she could. He released her, gasping as he fell. His followers cried out in shock.

She stumbled backwards as a cackling laughter echoed through the room. Everyone stilled, hesitantly looking up at the black cloud that swirled on the ceiling. From the center of the cloud, two green eyes stared down.

The king grunted. A silent plea formed on his lips.

“I will not be manipulated or blackmailed, Aimon,” Jasmine said. “I warned you of that years ago. And now, you have failed me again. I have chosen a new commander.”

Enzo stepped through the group, smiling down at the dying king. “A new era dawns, Aimon. The Shadow has chosen another, one who will not disappoint her.” The eyes from the ceiling faded into nothing. “And I will prove that, starting with the Solus. You held her life in your hands but took time for your own glory, and you have paid for it.”

Kiora frowned, rubbing her neck as the truth began unfolding around her. The opened balcony, the comments in the meeting, Enzo leaving the room after he had felt her bubble.

Kiora looked into the face of the new commander. “You let us in,” she whispered.

The commander grinned as the old king gave his last breath, his head dropping to the side. “The Shadow needed to dispose of Aimon, and she wanted to see what you were capable of doing.” Enzo casually strolled toward Kiora, his eyes never leaving her. “Aimon failed to find you. Not once, but twice, you slipped through his fingers. So yes, we let you in. And now I shall prove myself capable of doing what he could not.”

Emane came to, shaking his head with a groan. Kiora had only one idea that could get them out of this, and she needed to make it believable. She released her hold on the doors and more Taveans flowed into the room.

The new commander smiled at her. “Truly out of magic now, are we?”

“And so are you.” Kiora jerked the talisman from underneath her shirt and pulled the mesh from the top. The group froze, looking around in confusion—looking for the Shadow.

“
I
took your magic. The only one here with any power now is me.”

The new commander looked dubious, as expected. Kiora used her lingering magic to raise the staff from the ground and send it back into Alcander’s hands.

“My magic returns quickly.” She smiled to portray confidence.

There was hesitancy in Enzo’s next statement. “There are hundreds of us and only three of you.”

“Little good it will do you when I bury you under this castle.” Kiora reached to the earth, rumbling it beneath them and sending the room swaying and cracking in protest. “I can control all four elements. You will not reach us.”

Emane limped over to Alcander, pulling Alcander’s arm over his shoulder to give him some support.

The group murmured at her claim. Kiora prayed her power would hold out for this tiny display. She still had to get them out of here. The water around the room started creeping forward, pulling itself up into a wall of water between her and them. A moment later, fire danced across the surface before she sent a gust of wind swirling forward—spraying water and searing drops of fire.

Kiora,
Alcander’s thoughts came again.
Let me speak to them. When I hold up the staff, I need you to sheath the talisman.

Kiora’s head jerked at the pictures that came with Alcander’s thoughts, her mouth nearly falling open. She gave one slow nod to show that she understood.

Alcander hopped forward under Emane’s support, his face turning slightly green with each jerk of his leg. He moved closer to Enzo until he stood in a silver circle on the floor. Kiora had not noticed until now the indentation in the middle.

Alcander held up his staff. “I, Alcander, son of Alaric, grandson of Adair, do claim my right to the throne as king of Tavea.”

There was a rustle of disgust, but no one moved. Kiora had a sudden realization about just how right Emane had been. When magic is taken from someone, they underestimate their power without it. The throne room was filled with the enemy, who could easily have overpowered them if they chose. But without their magic, they didn’t know their own strength.

Alcander continued, “You have proven yourselves to be traitors to the ideals and beliefs of the Tavean people. You have murdered, plundered, and imprisoned those who would not join you. As the king, I convict you of your crimes. And now you shall be punished.” Alcander raised his staff to the aghast stares of his people and Kiora slid the mesh back over the talisman. When the magic returned, Emane grabbed Alcander’s leg, healing, as Alcander slammed the staff into the hole in the ground.

The walls around them instantly began to move. The vines Kiora had noticed earlier wiggled beneath the paint, ripping themselves from the walls and whipping across the room. Thousands of vines slashed at the Taveans Alcander had just convicted. They picked them up, tossed them, squeezed them, and ripped arms and legs from sockets.

Alcander turned. “Run!”

Kiora headed toward the door that would get them to the crypt the fastest. They sprinted into the hall. She could feel Tavean threads approaching from both directions. “I can’t use the talisman,” she shouted. “It will free up everyone in the throne room.”

“In here!” Alcander grabbed her arm, steering her into a room on the left.

“What now?” Emane asked, looking around at what was clearly
not
an exit.

Alcander pulled some wind, shoving it at the window. The panes rattled, but Alcander was running low on magic.

“Together!” Kiora grabbed more wind and joined Alcander. The window shattered and the three leaped through. They landed in the castle gardens and started running.

“Did Lomay get them all out?” Alcander yelled as they ran.

“Yes,” Kiora said. “I can’t feel any more threads in the dungeons.” She could feel all the threads in the castle converging on the throne room, no doubt trying to help their countrymen.

“What happened back there?” Emane yelled as Alcander led them through the hedges and flowerbeds.

“A protection system built in for the king. It was a family secret until now.”

“That is some family secret,” Emane grunted, hurtling over a small hedge.

“No bigger than yours,” Kiora said, referring to the knowledge of evil Emane’s family had kept from the people for a thousand years.

“Fair enough. Anyone have enough magic left for a bubble?” Emane asked.

“No,” Kiora said. “We need to save what we have in case we run into any more trouble.” Her magic was coming back, but she had used far too much in there. The wall-to-wall shield had required an enormous amount. She hadn’t realized what a mistake it was until she created it. That was the second time she had been so foolish, but what other choice did she have? Had she not, they would have been overrun in seconds.