Wings of Tavea (16 page)

“No,” she said, extinguishing the ball. “I have never tried this before. I just needed to release some magic.”

Emane stuck his head in the doorway. “I thought we were going to bed.” He took one look at Kiora before shoving past Drustan, “Clean clothes, where did you get clean clothes?”

Grinning, Kiora summoned his drawstring cotton pants and the blue shirt he preferred to sleep in out of the bags and into his hands. “I brought everything here.”

Emane pulled the clothes up to his face, breathing them in like a long lost friend. “Thank you!” He practically ran out of the room, pulling his dirty shirt over his head as he left.

Drustan shook his head. “It is getting that bad?” he asked Kiora.

Emane was already hopping back into the room as he straightened out the legs of his pants. “Is what getting that bad?”

“My magic. Yes,” Kiora answered Drustan. “I don’t know what to do with all of it, and I can feel it buzzing under my skin.”

“Hmm,” Drustan mused. “Hopefully it will get better as you get used to it.”

Emane’s head popped up. “Is that likely? That she will get to used to it?”

Drustan looked to Emane with a devious look in his eyes, “Yes,” he drawled. “I think she will. It will not, however, stop it from hurting the next time she blows you into a wall.”

Emane’s hope deflated, as did Kiora’s. She didn’t like the situation any better than he did. Creating another small ball of light, about the strength of a candle, Kiora set it on the windowsill. “I don’t know how to get used to anything when everything is always changing. A new vision, more magic, a new set of Wings.” She sighed. “I can’t keep up. Like the Creators—I’ve never heard of them until today.”

“I can’t help you with your magic problem, but I can help you with history lessons,” Drustan said.

“I was never very good at listening to history lessons,” Emane mumbled.

Ignoring Emane, Drustan began. “There were six Creators,” he said, leaning against the doorway as Emane made his way to the bed to sit next to Kiora. “As Lomay said, after they had created everything they noticed that the people, being so far separated from the light that had created them, were living in a darkened state. Nestor, the eldest of the Creators, suggested they give the people light and power. The other five agreed, but there was only one way to do that: give up their immortality. Despite the cost, they gave us the greatest gift, the gift of life—”

“How did they do that?” Emane interrupted.

With some exaggeration, Drustan swiveled his head to look Emane in the eye. “Again with the impatience, Prince. I am getting there.” Grinning at Emane’s tight-lipped glare, Drustan looked back to Kiora. “As I was saying, they put their immortality into the jewels, one for each of them, and placed them in secret locations. When they did, it is said the earth came alive. People became lighter, more full of good. It was a time when the world was made almost entirely of good, whilst evil lurked in shadows.”

“So the Creators, they all died?” Kiora asked.

“Yes. One by one they all died, although we don’t know where or when. With the exception of Nestor.”

“What, you mean they vanished?” Emane asked.

“They took their families and settled around the world. They had children and lived out their lives until they died.”

“They had children?” Emane asked skeptically.

“Of course they did. In fact, you know more than one of their descendants.”

“We do?” Kiora asked.

“Yes. The Ancient Ones, Epona and Lomay. They are great-great-grandchildren of the Creators.”

Kiora stared. “What about Eleana?”

Drustan shook his head. “No one is for sure. The few creatures like Eleana and Dralazar were so powerful it was assumed they had some of the Creator blood. But since many of their lines were lost over time, we don’t know.”

“Wait a minute,” Emane protested, holding up his hands. “What about the Wings? I thought they were supposed to show everything. You’re telling me no one really knows where these Creators went or who their children were?”

“After Nestor was murdered, the others cast protection and concealment spells. They were more than capable of it, and they needed it to protect them and their children.”

“Nestor was murdered?” Kiora asked, leaning forward. “After what he had done? How could someone do that?”

“No one knows.” Drustan shrugged. “He was found dead shortly after he gave up his immortality. After that, the others fled and hid.”

Emane frowned, tapping the bed. “Where does the Shadow come into this story?”

“All I know is that some of the lights had been stolen before the gate was shut. I was young and stupid and felt like it didn’t affect me. I know as little about the Shadow as you do, I am afraid.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Dreamless

KIORA AWOKE TO THE sound of life bustling around the camp. Rolling over, she tried to go back to sleep but felt Alcander and Lomay’s threads approaching. Sitting up, she hastily ran her fingers through her tangled, sleep-matted hair, wincing as her fingers caught a knot. She walked over the cold floorboards and opened the door before they could knock.

“Good morning,” Lomay said pleasantly, making his way up the stairs.

“Good morning.” Kiora’s eyes slid over the top of Lomay’s head to Alcander, who was wearing a loose white shirt, the top two buttons undone, and tight fitting dark pants. She couldn’t decipher his look, but it sent butterflies rolling through her stomach and blood rushing to her cheeks.

“I trust you slept well?” Lomay asked.

Kiora swallowed, forcing her eyes back to Lomay. “After I finally fell asleep, I suppose I did.”

“No dreams?”

“No.”

“That is too bad.” Lomay sighed. “No matter. I thought everyone might like to get cleaned up this morning. I brought Alcander to show you the way.” Alcander’s eyes glanced lazily to the side, clearly thrilled with his role. “After that, I had hoped to meet with Emane and Drustan.”

“What about me?” Kiora asked.

“No, you have much you can do without me. I assume you have a book from which to work. I was hoping to examine Emane’s armband. Possibly see what he can do.”

“And Drustan?” Kiora questioned. She was having a hard time keeping her eyes trained on Lomay. They continued to wander back to Alcander, who stood silently like a beautiful statue.

“I would like the history of your people from after the gate was shut, something he alone can offer me. Now if you would gather the others, Alcander will show you the way.” Lomay gave her a nod deep enough that it was almost a bow, then turned and went down the steps. Alcander watched him go before meeting Kiora’s eyes.

“Do you want to come in while I wake the others?” Kiora asked.

“No, I will wait out here.”

Fighting a looming eye roll, Kiora shut the door.

The others were just as excited about the prospect of getting clean and were to the door before Kiora could warn them who their guide was. As soon as Emane opened the door his body tensed. Sighing, Kiora pushed her way around Drustan and Emane before smiling at Alcander. “We’re ready.”

Alcander had clearly noticed Emane’s reaction. His shoulders shook with silent chuckles.

Following Alcander, they crossed the camp to the back of the canyon. Because of its elliptical shape, both ends of the canyon grew narrower until the two sides joined again, becoming solid rock. In the back corner a small piece of canyon wall jutted out before curling back in on itself. Kiora could hear the sound of water trickling. As they came around the edge of the curved wall, they emerged into a nearly enclosed rock room. A pool of water stood within, fresh water spilling down the rock. After the water landed in the pool, it ran on its way to join up with the river, which soon afterwards disappeared beneath the canyon walls. It was a perfect bathtub. Kiora looked up, watching the water trickle down, trying to decide whether it was natural or not. Alcander waved a hand, and a bar of soap and a pile of towels appeared on a rock next to the pool.

“Is there anything else you all require?” Alcander asked, his eyes only on Kiora.

“No, thank you,” Kiora answered.

Emane was busy looking around. “How do you keep from walking in on someone?” he asked, his hands on his hips.

Kiora cringed at the question as Alcander turned with a look that said everything. “I suppose we only need to worry about the Witow walking in on the rest of us.” He walked away, his laugh echoing behind him.

“What—” Emane started.

“Threads,” Kiora answered.

Emane turned red and Kiora fought the urge to chase after Alcander and give him a piece of her mind. It wasn’t Emane’s fault he couldn’t feel threads. Instead, she smiled tightly at Emane and Drustan and asked, “Who wants to go first?”

“Ladies first,” Drustan said with a sweep of his arm.

“Are you just being polite or do I smell worse than the pair of you?” she asked, pulling at her shirt in an attempt to lighten the mood. Drustan laughed. Emane, however, could barely manage a lip twitch.

“All right.” Clearing her throat, Kiora added, “By the way, Lomay wants to meet with you two.”

Drustan froze, the smile slipping from his mouth. Emane’s eyes narrowed as he glanced quickly at Drustan. “He says he wants to look at your armband,” Kiora said to Emane. To Drustan she said, “And to get the history of what’s happened since the gate was closed.”

“Why doesn’t he just ask the Wings?” Emane asked.

“Because,” Drustan answered, “these Wings don’t know. They were blocked from seeing the valley when the magic closed it off. The only Wings that give the history of Meros are the Wings of Arian.”

“All powerful, with a few exceptions,” Emane said bitterly as he walked out of the room. Drustan followed without a backwards glance.

Kiora waited for a moment before undressing and sliding into the water. She expected it to be cold. She should have known better. No magical creature would bathe in frigid river water. It was the perfect temperature and she sighed as she slid in. The rocks underneath the water were smooth and perfect for sitting on as she washed. Picking up the soap she scrubbed her arms, trying to ignore the lingering agitation she was feeling from Emane. It wasn’t easy. She felt so bad for him. Everything, even this amazing natural bathtub, was not something amazing in his eyes. It was just one more thing in a world he did not belong to. And no amount of green mountain magic would change that. She dropped her head into her hands. In the beginning she was so grateful to have someone with her so she wasn’t completely alone in this journey. But right now her heart was squeezed with a guilt that settled like a rock on the bottom of her stomach.

* * *

AFTER THEY HAD ALL washed and dressed, Kiora headed back to Alcander’s house to study while Emane and Drustan made their way over to Lomay’s. She stacked the books carefully on her bed. She intended to get to work, but instead found herself sitting on the bed, peeking out through the curtains to watch life in the camp.

The children ran, flew, and played in the middle of the village in a hodgepodge of dark skin, blue skin, feathers, scales and various colored hair. She couldn’t help but smile. One little girl that looked Tavean was yelling at a winged boy who had taken off during a game of tag. By the look on the little girl’s face, she considered him to be cheating. Pulling back her hands, the little girl attempted to force some air in his direction, assumedly to knock the boy clean out of the sky. The most she managed was some rumpled feathers as the winged boy made a clean getaway. Kiora couldn’t help but laugh.

The mothers milled around, glancing occasionally at the action. Some sat talking with another. Others worked in front of looms that seemed to be working themselves. Kiora noticed with some interest that every woman near the looms was half bird, half person. There were no Shifters in the square; she could only assume they were squirreled away somewhere doing whatever needed to be done.

Alcander walked over to the women. Each stopped to bow her head in respect before smiling and greeting him. He smiled back and spoke with them for a minute. Then he turned, catching sight of Kiora in the window.

She jumped back with a curse, pulling the curtains shut. She had no reason to hide—she had done nothing wrong. It wasn’t long before she heard the knock at the door.

“Come in, Alcander,” she yelled from the bed.

Alcander opened the door and stepped inside, the sun flaring behind him. The brightness left him as a black silhouette, but his white hair created a halo from his head down past his shoulders. As he shut the door behind him, the lighting returned to normal, and so did he. “Lomay sent me over to talk to you,” he announced.

“I thought he wanted me to study,” Kiora said, crossing her legs in front of her.

“There will be time. He wanted me to give you more of the history of our people. He is hoping the more knowledge you have, the faster the dreams will come.”

Kiora shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “What dreams?”

“He seems to think,” Alcander pursed his lips, “that the answers we are looking for will come to you through your visions.” He sounded more than skeptical.

“And you think he is just a crazy old man?”

“I don’t know what to think. I never do with you.” Kiora wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but he was already evaluating the room. “Lomay removed every bit of furniture when he made room for the three of you. I will have to summon a chair if we are to talk.” A second later a familiar wooden stump of a chair appeared next to him.

Kiora turned her head to the side, her eyebrows pulling together. “Is that Lomay’s chair?”

“Yes. I do hope no one was sitting on it,” Alcander said, taking a seat and looking rather pleased with himself.

Kiora knew immediately that someone
had
been sitting in it, and she had a sneaking suspicion of who. Emane would be furious when he arrived home later and found the chair.

Kiora pushed herself up against the wall. “All right, now that you have your
chair,
what are you going to tell me about?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of her.