Wings of Tavea (21 page)

Kiora sat there, worry picking her apart as Lomay closed the door behind him. She was worried about Emane—his state of mind more than anything—and worried about Drustan.

Emane?
She called to him, without much hope he would answer.
Emane?
She waited, but heard nothing. Wherever Lomay took him, he was out of range for calling.

It wasn’t long before she felt Alcander’s thread approaching the house. She forced herself to take a deep breath. She would have to push it all away. She could not spend this time worrying about the others. There was so much to learn and she needed to focus. Emane will be fine, she told herself. He’ll be mad, but fine. And Drustan is right here. If there was any trouble she could help him.

Taking another deep breath she stood, neatly tucking her worries away. She picked up the pants from the pile on the bed. These pants were a material she was not familiar with. They were thick, black, shiny, and slippery to the touch. She had to jump and wiggle to get herself into them. They were the tightest things she had ever worn in her life, the fabric hugging her legs and hips like a second skin. “You have got to be kidding me,” she murmured, looking down at herself. She felt half naked. Picking up her shirt she groaned. It was made out of the same material and was just as snug as the pants. Sliding her feet into a soft, lightweight pair of shoes, she slowly peeked out the door, too embarrassed to walk out.

Alcander was outside leaning against a tree. “You’re late,” he said.

“I didn’t know there was a time.” Kiora noticed Alcander wore a matching outfit. Just as tight. She could see the ridges of his stomach and the swells of his biceps. Blushing, she quickly looked away. “Why are we wearing these ridiculous clothes?”

“They are not ridiculous, they are practical. Now let’s go.”

Kiora opened the door and stepped out. Alcander’s eyes lazily flicked down, then slowly returned to her face. Kiora no longer felt half naked—she felt completely exposed.

“Those fit nicely.”

“They’re tight.” Kiora squirmed, pulling at her shirt.

“Of course they are. Loose clothing is dangerous.”

“You didn’t wear this when we fought the Trackers,” she objected.

“
This is for training. Stop whining and let’s go.”

Kiora grumbled but followed Alcander back up the path to the wooden bridge. As they approached her nerves kicked in.

Alcander turned abruptly. “First lesson. You will learn to cross this bridge without crying like a girl.”

Kiora’s temper flared. This much anger was new to her, and she had trouble controlling it. “A bridge? You are worried about me crossing a bridge?” she yelled.

“Yes, you need to conquer your fear.”

“My fear! My fear is that—”

“What?” Alcander demanded.

Kiora clenched her teeth. She was supposed to be training, learning how to defeat something the entire world had not been able to defeat for thousands of years. And here they stood at the bridge. “Nothing.” She was not about to pour her soul out to him. “How would you
like
me to cross this bridge?”

“I want you to cross this bridge like it doesn’t scare you.” Kiora took one shaky step forward before Alcander yanked her back by her collar. “No,” he barked. “I said, like you’re not afraid.”

Kiora bit her lip to keep from yelling again and took another step forward. This one was firm and steady. The next one shook uncontrollably. Alcander reached to grab her again and Kiora whirled on him, swatting his hand away. “Don’t touch me,” she snapped. “I can try again without you yanking me back like I was a dog.” She took two steps back and tried again.
I am not afraid, I am not afraid, I am not afraid.
Kiora repeated the mantra over and over again in her head. She almost believed it.

Her steps were strong and sure until she took the first step onto the wooden plank. It swayed and she had to grasp onto the rope sides to keep from losing her balance. Straightening, Kiora went back to her mental encouragement.
I am not afraid, I am not going to get hurt, I am not afraid.
Each statement was accompanied by a step; each step brought her closer to the other side.
I am not afraid, I am not afraid
.
I crossed a bridge just like this once for Emane.
Kiora remembered running across the bridge at the colony, following Emane up to his room after he had received his armband. All she had thought of was him and how much he needed her.

In her mind’s eye she pictured Emane on the opposite side of the canyon waiting for her. Putting all her concentration on that image she pushed herself forward. Before she knew it, her feet had landed again on solid rock and the breath she had been holding rushed out.

Alcander was right behind. “You did that faster than I expected.”

“I get that a lot,” Kiora said before turning to look Alcander in the eye. “And it had nothing to do with you or your superb method of tutoring.”

“Noted. Follow me.”

Alcander walked them back into the cave and took a sharp right into a tunnel so black and narrow that Kiora had not noticed it on any of her trips coming or going. She squeezed herself through, forced to shimmy sideways in places. They stumbled through the dark for a few minutes before she felt the cavern widen.

“Light, please,” Alcander commanded.

“Can’t you do it?”

“I am not in training here, Kiora.”

Alcander was even colder than usual, his tone clipped and harsh. Much like the first time she had met him. And he had every right to be, she thought. She had left them on the field and they had nearly been killed. “I am sorry about yesterday,” she said, opening her hand and willing light. A moment later a blue fire twinkled blue in her palm, lighting but not burning. “I should have stayed, or asked if you would be all right or . . .”

His shoulders tightened for a second, but then he moved on as if she hadn’t said anything. “If you wouldn’t mind lighting the torches, we will begin.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Magic’s Desire

EMANE PACED AROUND THE room like a caged animal, jumping when a jumble of weaponry landed on the floor in front of the fireplace.

“Lomay decided to send you your things,” Drem said, his large ears swiveling. “How thoughtful.”

“This is not funny,” Emane snapped.

“I don’t think it was meant to be.”

Emane growled. Picking up his sword and dagger from the pile, he strapped them around his waist before stomping to the door and throwing it open.

“That is not a good idea.”

Emane snorted.

The next thing Emane knew Drem was standing between him and the door.

“How?” Emane began, looking back to where Drem had been sitting a moment earlier.

“I am fast—a natural gift,” the old man said, his brown eyes wide. “I know you cannot feel threads, but I assume you can see.” He turned to the side, sweeping his arm out the door, inviting Emane to look.

Emane stepped to the threshold. The land below him sloped down, and at the base of the hill sat an immense spread of tents. A few creatures were milling outside as the sun began to rise.

“Something has got them all worked up,” Drem said, peering out. “Group after group has moved through this area. I assume they are looking for you and your traveling party.”

“Yes,” Emane breathed, looking out over the army. Now he understood Kiora’s reasons for going with Alcander in the first place. She had felt something like this approaching.

“I have seen at least six other groups pass through here. The land will be crawling with the Shadow’s armies. Unless you have learned how to bubble, you won’t make it six steps out the enclosure.”

Emane wanted to explode. His chest was heaving with pent-up frustration. Turning away from the door he slammed his fist into the wall.

“Feel better?” Drem asked, shutting the door.

“No! No, I do not
feel better
,” Emane yelled. “I am the Protector. How can I protect her when I am clear across the valley trapped in some house? Lomay tricked me.”

“Not surprising,” Drem said, moving back over to the couch. “Lomay does what he wants to do, for reasons he does not explain. You are here now, so let’s get on with it.”

“Get on with what?”

“Lomay brought you here so I could train you.” Drem pulled up his sleeve to reveal what looked like a rope of grey rock flecked with black and gold minerals, twisting up his skinny forearm.

Emane paused. “What is that?”

Drem smiled, sending his ears bobbing upwards. “Magic. Lomay gave it to me years ago so I could learn how to use it.” Drem turned his head to the side. “It doesn’t work how they say it should, does it? Your magic?”

Emane’s hand moved over to his arm, rubbing the snake beneath his shirt. The healing always worked. But the other stuff was a constant struggle, even his weaponry. It was better, but still forced and awkward. “Not always, no,” he admitted.

“Because this,” he tapped the stone around his arm, “is not the same magic as theirs, and they don’t fully understand how to use it.”

“But you do?” Emane asked skeptically.

“I should. I have done nothing but hide in the side of this hill learning how to use it for the last fifty years.”

Emane looked around at the small house, frowning, “Why would you do that?”

“Because that is what Lomay wanted. What he wants, he usually gets. That, and my mother probably would have drowned me at birth had Lomay not intervened.”

“But I can’t stay here,” Emane protested. “Kiora is back there, alone. What if she needs me?”

“I can’t imagine the Solus would be in desperate need of your help in your current state.”

It was Alcander’s words all over again, and it sent Emane into a rage. “My current state?” he roared. “Kiora and I have worked together, fought together. My current state has worked just fine. She is powerful enough to make up for my weakness and I make up for hers. I do not need to be told constantly how worthless, or
without
, I am. Kiora does not have a problem with it, and I am sick and tired of the rest of you having a problem with it.”

Drem stood slowly, making his way towards Emane. Tilting his head up he looked Emane in the eye. “ I understand your anger, truly I do. Regardless of your past successes, I ask you this: would you like to live?”

Emane looked down at the strange old man. “Of course.”

“I do not know where you have come from or what you have fought. But the fact that you survived into adulthood tells me that wherever you were hiding, being a Witow was not frowned upon.”

Emane shook his head. “Most of us were Witows.”

Drem’s eyes took on a far off look. “That is a place I could only dream of.”

Emane’s heart softened. In that one wistful look Emane saw his own pain. “Perhaps one day I can show it to you.”

Drem’s eyes focused back in on Emane. “Truly?”

“When it is safe, yes.”

“Well then.” Drem reached up, clapping Emane on the shoulder. “We need to train you, to teach you. So you can survive this world. Because I would very much like to see this world of yours.”

* * *

KIORA LOOKED AROUND THE giant cavern. It was clearly designed for training purposes. The room was almost a perfect circle, and circles had been drawn on the floor with white paint. The center circle was only large enough for two people to stand in. Around it were several more concentric circles, spreading all the way to the walls. She was standing in the outside ring that encircled the entire room.

“What is this place?” Kiora asked.

“This,” Alcander motioned around the room, “is the nearest we have to a proper training arena.”

“A training arena?”

Glancing sideways at her, Alcander said, “I suppose you don’t have these where you are from.”

“No. What do you do with it?”

“You learn how to fight long-range.” Alcander motioned to the circle they were in. “And short-range.” He pointed to the tiny circle in the center.

“All right.” Kiora straightened her shoulders. “What am I learning today?”

“My specialty, one-on-one combat.” Putting his hands on his hips, he added thoughtfully, “This might hurt a little.” Kiora was sure a smirk pulled at the side of his mouth.

“What am I allowed to do?” she asked.

“I believe in teaching practical situations. You will learn to fight how evil fights.” He raised his eyebrows. “Which means no rules.”

“Great!” Kiora bubbled and ran.

Behind her she heard a deep laugh. “I thought you might pick that.”

Kiora turned just in time to see Alcander splay his fingers, pushing something outward. A moment later a rippling green circle of magic spread out from him, rushing across the arena towards her. Kiora looked around. There was no escape. Every piece of the arena was being raked over by whatever he had just released. Making a split-second decision, Kiora dropped her bubble to throw up a shield. The green magic melted around her shield, leaving her unharmed, and continued on until it hit the back wall.

“There you are.” He smiled sweetly.

She dropped her shield. “What was that?”

“Nothing much.” He shrugged. “I came up with it a few years back to hunt out people who like to bubble. Old magic is easier to mix than nature magic. I put a few different elements together and came up with it. I call it the sphere.”

“You came up with that?”

“Don’t act so shocked,” he said. “I have gifts of my own, even if I can’t control all four elements.”

“How does it work?”

He shook his head. “No lessons yet. First I need to see what you can do.” He strode across the room, his eyes locked on hers with an intensity that simultaneously flipped her stomach and made her want to retreat. Kiora held her ground out of sheer determination not to embarrass herself. Stopping within inches of her, Alcander spoke a charm under his breath. Both of their clothes immediately took on a light glow.

“What did you do?” Kiora asked, running her fingers over the illuminated fabric.

“It’s a protection spell. It prevents any fatal magical blows from killing you.”

Kiora frowned. “If it protects against magical blows, why don’t we use it during a fight?”