Wings of Tavea (32 page)

They circled each other, hands splayed at their hips, waiting for any movement. Alcander started it with a volley of green magic from his left hand and a magical rope from his right that tangled around her ankle. Throwing up a full body shield to deal with the volley, she punched through the rope with her magic. Her own imagination stirred. Concentrating on the image of a net, she flung out her hands. Although not as pretty as she had wanted, the general idea appeared. A woven configuration of magical energy flew out from her. He yelled in surprise. He flipped wind towards the net, managing to push it slightly off course as he dove out of the way.

Dropping the net to the ground, she bubbled and ran straight for him. She had an idea, but she needed to be close or she might lose control of it. He scrambled to his feet and sent out a locating sphere. It didn’t matter—she was already where she wanted to be. Crouching down, she placed her hand on the ground just as his sphere popped her bubble. She didn’t want an earthquake, so she released just a tiny bit of magic. Responding, the ground rolled towards Alcander like a tidal wave, picking him up and pulling him along with it. He fired off some wild shots as he stumbled on the rolling earth. The ground rumbled beneath her. Nervous she would start an earthquake despite her caution, she moved her hand from the earth and stopped the motion.

The circle they had been using was now bent and wavy. Ahead of her, a large berm where the tidal wave of dirt had frozen blocked her view of Alcander. She ran forward, putting up a bubble and flattening her back against the large bump in the earth. Suddenly Alcander came flying over the top, lacking only wings. With a twinge of regret for her dirty tactics, she dropped the bubble, firing off two rapid shots. Both hit, one on his arm and the other in his chest, slamming him to the ground.

“That’s it!” he yelled, pushing himself up. He threw a wall of green magic, as wide as it was tall. There was nowhere to go. A huge shield flew out from her in response, the likes of which she had never seen. It resonated with a boom as it erupted from her fingers. The green wall rippled neatly around it. Alcander groaned before flopping back to the ground.

Wiping her hands on her pants, Kiora cleared her throat. “So did I need the playing field leveled?”

“Not always,” he grumped.

She started laughing and couldn’t stop. It felt almost as good as her magical release. Shaking his head, Alcander pulled himself to his feet. He offered his hand, his mouth pulled up on one side.

Almost wheezing at this point, she reached out to take his hand. As soon as her fingers wrapped around his, magic moved between them in a way she had never felt before, flowing and thrumming. She jerked her hand back with a start. The smile fled as he looked down at her. His gaze was fierce, but she could not discern the emotion behind it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Bonding

ALCANDER HAD DINNER DELIVERED to their tent that evening. They had fish, and lots of it. Fish stew, steamed fish, and some fish buns.

“Do they like fish?” Drustan asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Summoning food is dangerous,” Alcander said, taking a large mouthful of pink-fleshed fish. “It gives evil cause to look for rebel camps. So we work with what we have access to. Out here, it’s fish. Now be grateful and eat.”

“Of course, Prince Alcander,” Drustan said, deeply bowing his head. “Doest thou also command that I enjoy it?”

Kiora snorted fish straight out her nose, which was not pleasant. Alcander just

glared. “Oh come on, Alcander.” She giggled. “That was funny.”

“Thank you, Kiora,” Drustan said. “I have found that humor is a acquired taste, much like fish.”

Alcander delivered one of his cool gazes before returning to his dinner.

Kiora found the fish to be quite good, although the buns were oddly sticky. She was used to magical food being superb, and the buns were not up to the usual standard. But it was food, and after training all day, she was famished.

At the end of the meal, Alcander brushed his hands on his pants and stood,

offering his hand to Kiora. “Come.”

She raised an eyebrow, her mouth twisting ruefully to the side.

“Please,” he amended.

“Of course.” She took his hand, allowing him to pull her up.

“Ah, Kiora,” Drustan said with a yawn. “You bring out the best in all of us, I am afraid.”

“Thank you,” she said, oddly touched. “You get some rest.”

“I will. I am sure it won’t be long before Alcander expects me to fly to the ends of the earth.”

She hoped it wouldn’t be long. She was still determined to only give Alcander a day before they began making their way towards the Manor. Alcander did not acknowledge Drustan’s comment with a response. He pulled Kiora out of the tent and down towards the beach. Releasing her hand, he placed both of his behind him as he walked. “There are still so many questions I have for you,” he said, his voice subdued.

She glanced at him. He’s afraid of what we are about to face, she realized. Fear suited him—it made him real. “What would you like to know?”

“In your world, dragons are friendly?”

A knife stabbed at her heart as she remembered just how friendly they could be. “What made you think of that?” she asked, her fingers moving to her neck.

“Just remembering your first day with us.”

“Hmmm.” She ran her thumb across the scale that lay under her black top. “I am told that when the gate was sealed, all the dragons were friendly. By the time I was called as the Solus, there was only one left that did not side with Dralazar.” She smiled. “His name was Morcant.”

“You were very fond of him?”

“Yes.” A tear slid down her cheek. “He saved my life.” Her mind returned to Meros, remembering not only Morcant sacrificing himself to protect Kiora; but also when Morcant came to her at the gate, helping her to see right from wrong at a time when the lines were so blurred. “Twice.” She grinned, laughing through her tears. “He couldn’t stand Emane. Almost killed him, twice.” Alcander genuinely smiled in the moonlight. “But he was wise and strong and one of the most amazing creatures I have ever met.”

They neared the beach, and she sat down just out of reach of the lapping waves. “When he died, he made me promise I would visit his home, Toopai.” She sighed sadly, digging her fingers into the wet sand.

“Toopai?”

“Yes, do you know it?”

“Yes.” He slowly sat down next to her. “But I don’t know how you will keep that promise. The dragons here are not what you are describing. Not even like the ones that choose to side with Dralazar. The thought of dragons allowing themselves to be controlled like that, ridden?” Alcander shook his head. “Never. The dragons here are wild and angry and mistrustful of anything that is not . . . them. Toopai is a very dangerous place for a non-dragon.”

“I will cross that bridge when the time comes,” she said with a shrug. “I made a promise. But right now I have to get to Emane. Morcant would understand that.” She stared out at the black lapping water. “This world is so different than what I am used to. Sometimes remembering the old one is painful.”

“Do you miss your family?”

She frowned. “My parents are gone, and my sister hates me. Remember?”

“I remember. But is there no one else? Cousins?”

“No. My parents had no siblings. Having more than one child was rare. Some didn’t have any.” Her mouth twisted. “When I met Epona, she explained it was an unforeseen consequence of the gate being erected.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We had a little valley, limited resources. The population had to be controlled.”

He rocked back, leaning on his hands. “And no one ever suspected?”

“The spell was well worked. It prevented any suspicions. One thought of going over the mountains and your mind would just . . . slip, moving on to something else.”

“What of the magical community?”

“They knew, but there was nothing they could do to open the gate.”

“Are you glad they opened it?” Alcander asked.

She opened her mouth, but snapped it shut again. “I—I don’t know,” she stammered. “It doesn’t seem right to be held hostage, but . . .”

“This world is not what you expected,” he finished.

She swallowed. “I don’t know what I expected. It’s hard to imagine anything when you have seen nothing.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose that is true.”

She turned her head to look at him, putting one arm over her knee. “You are unusually chatty tonight.”

“The eve of battle does funny things to people.”

“You are worried?”

“If what Niall said is true—very.”

“So staring death in the face is what brings your walls down?”.

Very slowly, he turned to look at her. The moon offered enough light so she could see him clearly. He really was beautiful, in a completely new and unusual way. And tonight, with his stunning features and eyes that were finally vulnerable, he was making her heart race. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Those crystal eyes were no longer sharp and cold and icy, but a soft and reaching blue that seemed to yearn for something.

“Did you bring me out here to talk?” she whispered awkwardly.

“No,” he said, his voice thick and heavy. “I was going to teach you how to mask your thread.”

“Oh.” She blinked as she came up for air out of the depths of those eyes. “Where shall we begin?”

“Close your eyes.” She obeyed. “This will not be pleasant,” he warned softly. “Especially for you. I will give you an incantation. When you repeat it, you will actually be calling evil to you. It will wrap your thread, disguising it.”

His fingers brushed against hers, soft and hesitant and thrumming with magic. “It is important that you maintain yourself. Too many have been lost while masking their threads. Evil doesn’t just wrap, it slips in and takes control and never goes away.” She gulped. “I am not worried about you,” he assured her. “You will be fine. But I needed to warn you.”

He gave her the incantation and she hesitantly repeated it, unsure of what to expect. Her eyes were still screwed shut when a darkness, tangible as a blanket, billowed and swooped around her. Her heart felt as if she were being wrapped in thousands of freezing threads, wrenching her gut into knots. Screams and cackles sounded in her ears. Her eyes popped open in alarm. She wished she had kept them closed. Red eyes and slashing claws moved around her, laughing, screaming. The pain intensified with every second.

Everything she had felt while watching evil in the Wings of Arian that first time replayed in her mind. She fought against the memories, but the forces surrounding her pushed back harder. The images were worse, the feelings stronger. And now, as before, she wanted nothing more than to reach up and tear them from her brain.

Arching her back, she finally screamed, writhing on the sand. Alcander picked her up, squeezing her tight to his body as he whispered the incantation to end the spell. Immediately the evil disappeared and the pain subsided. She sucked in deep gulps of air, trying to calm herself as he pulled her in tighter, murmuring something in her ear. It was a while before she understood him.

“It’s all right,” he said.

Grasping his shirt, she looked up at him, her eyes wide. His eyes were still open and vulnerable. Moving a hand from her waist, he suddenly cupped her face, pulling her into him with desperation. Their lips met and a fiery magic swirled between them. The little pops she had felt earlier were now glorious bursts of pleasure, moving from her head to her toes. Currents ebbed and flowed at every point their bodies touched. She was drowning in a sea of magic unlike anything she had ever felt before. His lips had looked so thin, but as he kissed her they felt just as full as—

She gasped, shoving off him and scrambling to her feet. Alcander sat on his knees, his stunned eyes staring at the sand.

“How dare you,” she said, pointing at him with a shaking finger.

His eyes, vulnerable a moment before, were hard and cold again as he looked at her. “You were fine with it a second ago,” he answered coolly.

“No! I was confused and hurting and you—you—” she stuttered.

“I what?” He slowly unfolded to his full height. “Took advantage of you?”

“Yes!” She gripped her head. “No! Oh, no, no. Emane is being tortured and I . . .” She shook her head, moaning. “You . . . I . . . your magic. What
was
that?”

His eyes narrowed. He grabbed her arm, his eyes burrowing into hers. The second he touched her, the magic began flowing between them again, more gently this time.

“
That?
” he nearly yelled, his voice shaking. “Is
that
what you’re referring to?”

“Yes,” she cried, ripping her arm out of his grasp.

He stepped forward, putting both his hands on her shoulders and pulling her into him.

“Let go of me,” she said through clenched teeth, trying to ignore the delicious feelings flowing through her.

“Can you feel it now?” he asked hotly.

“Yes.”

“When we first met, did you feel it when I touched you?” he demanded, pulling her in tighter.

“No.”

“Would you like to know why?”

She hesitantly turned her eyes up to meet his. He was so close, his lips only

inches away.

“Why?”

“Remember when I told you before that releasing magic into the one you love is part of the experience for those of us with magic?” She nodded. “It only happens—like this,” he squeezed her tighter, sending pinwheels of magic twirling through her, “when
both
parties have similar feelings. Both! So don’t tell me that you don’t.”

She jerked, releasing herself from his contact. “It’s not true.” Her lower lip trembled as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.

“It is true. Why is that so bad?”

“I love Emane.” It was the first time she had vocalized those words. And she realized, her heart breaking more, she had not even said it to the man who was waiting so desperately to hear it.

Alcander’s face spasmed in what she could only assume was pain. “We have a problem then,” he said, “because you love me too.” Turning slowly, with one glance over his shoulder, he left her standing alone on the beach.