Wings of Tavea (8 page)

“Leave them alone, Alcander, she is but a child.” Drustan’s voice came from behind Kiora. “A child and a Witow.”

Alcander stepped sideways to watch Drustan as he strolled nonchalantly in, his dark hair floating behind him, the red streak muted in the darkness. “What did you say?”

“I said, leave them alone. She is but a child and he is but a Witow.”

“No,” Alcander whispered. “It’s not possible.” His face went even whiter than it had been. “It’s just a legend.”

Drustan joined the group. “No, it is not. It is a prophecy.”

Alcander’s eyes flashed over to Drustan. “It has been thousands of years. The world has threatened to end itself a hundred times. No one came.” His voice shook with anger Kiora didn’t fully understand. “No one ever came,” he yelled.

“She is here now,” Drustan said calmly.

As quickly as it came, Alcander’s emotional outburst vanished—replaced by a

mask of indifference. His breathing returned to normal. It was if he just- turned the emotion off.

“Come,” Alcander said, walking past them and heading further into the cave.

The caves at home were not usually as bad as Kiora expected them to be; they’d been more like carved-out homes. But this one was a cave in the traditional sense. The walls narrowed as they went deeper, until her shoulders were rubbing cold stone in places. The breeze generated by the falls quickly gave way to stale and musty air so thick Kiora could taste it. The group was silent as their feet crunched along.

“Kiora,” Alcander said, coming to a stop. “Would you mind providing some light?”

Crouching, Kiora lit a small fire next to her.

“We will need more than that.”

She increased the size of the flame, then moved forward and lit two more.

“What is this?” Emane whispered.

Kiora looked around. They had entered a larger cavern, and the walls were covered with ancient paintings. The paint was fading in sections but the pictures were still clear—battle scenes. Kiora turned in a circle, taking in the full scope. The ranks on both sides stretched across the walls. Taking a step closer she squinted, and then wished she hadn’t. Creatures lay bloodied and dying throughout the scene. Fires burned, taking victims with it as well. Kiora’s hand moved to her mouth, stifling a cry.

“What is this place?” Emane repeated, scanning the panoramic paintings.

Alcander kept his eyes focused, not on the painting, but on Kiora. “This is where the ancient prophet Lomay spent much of his time painting the things he saw.”

“Lomay?” Kiora tore her eyes away from the devastation. “You know Lomay?”

Alcander’s eyes tightened. “Yes.”

Emane walked past Kiora, running his fingers over the rock. “Why are you showing us this?”

Alcander crossed to the far wall. “Because of this,” he said, jabbing his finger towards a specific section.

The lights and shadows flickered across the old paint, forcing Kiora, Emane, and Drustan to walk closer. Painted there was a large, dark, faceless Shadow looming over two people. Two people that looked almost exactly like Kiora and Emane. Slight differences in facial features, but there was no denying who it was supposed to be. Kiora was lying on the ground, hand outstretched, a look of horror on her face. Between her and the Shadow stood Emane, shield in hand, sword pointing at the darkness with a green snake wrapped around his arm and shoulder. Kiora gasped. Even the sword in the painting was an exact match to Emane’s. It was gold, with a heavily jeweled hilt. If you looked closely you could see the outlines of the Wings of Arian on it.

“Whoa.” That was all Emane could muster.

The tremors started in Kiora’s hands, moving up her arms and through her body. This is what awaited them. She had thought for a brief foolish second the scene had already happened, a past she had never known. But this was the future. These paintings—prophecies—made the battle with Dralazar look miniature in comparison. Her heart shuddered and threatened to cleave in two. Grabbing at her chest with a groan, Kiora sunk to her knees. Emane was at her side a moment later, wrapping his arms around her.

“It’s too much,” Kiora gasped. “So much worse than before.” She felt the weight of her calling settle further on her shoulders, weighing her down. So many lives resting in her hands. “Look at it, Emane, so much pain.” She buried her head in his shoulder, sobbing. “I can’t bear it.”

“Is it true?” Alcander demanded loudly. “Are you the Solus?”

Emane glared at Alcander as he pulled Kiora closer to him. “Now is not the time, Alcander.”

“No,” Kiora said through a sob, pushing gently off Emane’s shoulder. “It’s all right.” Wiping her eyes, she took a stuttering breath. “Yes. I am.”

Alcander’s eyes flickered between them, processing. “You!” He pointed his finger accusingly at Emane. “
You
are the Protector?”

Emane inclined his chin. “I am.” Rising to his feet, he pulled Kiora up with him. “And I will protect her in
every way
.”

“And none of you had any idea about any of this?” Alcander asked in angry disbelief.

Every inch of Kiora was screaming to run, to escape the pain these paintings were causing her. But she had to know. Taking a deep breath, she turned back around.

“Kiora,” Emane whispered, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“We need to know this.” Walking forward, she felt Emane’s hand slowly slide off her shoulder and back to his side. She lit another fire below the scene she had just looked at, illuminating the Shadow that loomed over their future. “Alcander,” she asked, “you mentioned we were going through the Shadow’s land. Is this the Shadow?”

“Yes.”

Kiora reached up, wondering what it was so desperate to hide that it wrapped itself in Shadow. Her finger trailed to the image of her and Emane. She had one hand out. Kiora wasn’t sure if she was trying to protect herself, or calling out to Emane. Her other hand was wrapped around something that hung on a chain from her neck. She squinted and leaned closer, but all she could see was a splash of gold paint. The rest lay clenched beneath her fingers. She sighed. No answers, just more questions.

“Where does this take place?” she asked.

“We don’t know. None of Lomay’s paintings have been specific.”

“This looks pretty specific,” Emane mumbled, staring at a picture of a man with short, white hair thrusting his sword through a creature that had large, white wings sprouting out of its back. Emane turned his head to the side. “Why does he have a sword?”

“What are you talking about?” Alcander asked, sounding annoyed at the mere sound of Emane’s voice.

“Here,” Emane said, pointing. “I didn’t think those of you with magic used swords?”

Alcander and Kiora both moved to where Emane stood.

Alcander peered at the wall, his brow furrowing. “That would be completely useless in battle.” He reached out to touch it before stopping and thrusting his hand down , as if touching it would have somehow offended his senses.

“It doesn’t look useless to me,” Emane said. “It looks fairly effective if you would like my opinion.”

“I wouldn’t,” Alcander said coolly.

Kiora’s eyes strayed from the sword to the rest of the scene. This is what awaited her, what she was here for. The knowledge did little to calm the unease of not knowing. Turning away from the painted blood that ran in rivers through the mural, she moved back to the scene with her and Emane. Upon closer examination, she noticed a man behind the Shadow. Although he was crouched low, she could tell he was tall, with long pale hair spilling over his shoulders. He looked very much like Alcander.

“Alcander,” Kiora asked. “Is this you?”

His face was stone. “No.”

He hadn’t even bothered to look where she was pointing.

* * *.

KIORA HAD TRIED TO insist she was fine, but her trembling hands had given her away. Emane had forced her back to bed.

She fell asleep almost the second Emane laid her on the bed. Lying next to her, Emane rolled his eyes. He didn’t need threads to feel Alcander’s stare boring into the back of his head. Carefully he extracted his arm from beneath Kiora, trying not to wake her. Sliding off the bed, he strode across the room under Alcander’s icy gaze.

“What do you want?” Emane asked.

“I have questions.”

“You will have to wait. She needs her rest.”

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were, who she was?” Alcander’s head jerked towards the sleeping Kiora.

“Me?” Emane snorted, falling against the arched stone door. “You were too busy questioning my intelligence to ask
me
anything.”

Alcander’s nostrils flared. “
She
could have told me.” Drustan strode up and Alcander whirled on him. “
You
could have told me.”

“Look,” Emane said. “You think she would just blurt out that she was the one prophesied about, and she had come to save you all?” Emane cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raised. “I don’t think it’s my intelligence we should be questioning.”

“What are you then?” Alcander pushed, taking a step forward. “I have never seen anything that looks like the pair of you.”

Emane looked to Drustan.

“Do you really know where to find Lomay?” Drustan asked.

Alcander lips tightened into a thin line. “Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“I live there,” Alcander said, crossing his arms in front of him.

“You live with Lomay?” Drustan asked suspiciously

“It is not something I regularly admit these days, but yes. He is protecting the families of our recruits.”

“Recruits? For what?” Emane asked

“How is it possible that the group of you knows nothing of what is going on?” Alcander demanded.

Drustan hesitated for a second. “Follow me,” he said, walking past Alcander and heading towards the falls.

Once clear of the water, the group climbed the grassy slope to the top of the falls. The sun was just peeking over the horizon.

“Look there,” Drustan said pointing to the north.

Illuminated by the sun’s rays was a jagged piece of mountain poking through the fabric of the illusion. Without knowing what it was, it looked like a mountain peak was floating in the clear blue sky, with nothing to support it, over the desolate landscape to the north.

“What is going on?” Alcander whispered.

“That is where we are from, the other side of those mountains. The illusion is fading as the magic that kept us trapped behind them fades.”

No sooner had the words left Drustan’s mouth than the craggy peak began to disappear.

Emane sighed in relief. Eleana was already repairing the illusion. He had no idea what state the world would be in on this side of the mountain. The thought of it all filtering through the pass into Meros was terrifying.

“That is enough,” Alcander sputtered, trying to regain his composure. “That is enough. We are waking her up and she will explain everything.”

Drustan put his hand on Alcander’s shoulder. “It is a long story, one that I would rather tell only once. How long will it take us to reach Lomay?”

Alcander coldly eyed the hand on his shoulder until Drustan removed it.

“You know she is the Solus,” Emane said. “Why does it matter what we are?”

“I am sure Kiora will tell you when she wakes,” Drustan reassured him.

Alcander huffed in annoyance. “It is only a day by air to get to Lomay. But if we travel by land it will take three to four, depending on how many things we need to avoid.” Tilting his head he asked, “So, Shifter, how will you transport us?”

Drustan’s eyes narrowed. “You have yet to ask if I will transport you at all.”

Alcander raised an eyebrow. “You maintain your freedom?”

“I am quite free.”

“Very well, Shifter, how will we go? By air or by land?”

“I will fly us.”

“Then we will leave as soon as you’re ready.” Alcander leapt nimbly down the hill to the base of the falls, Drustan and Emane following suit. He reached out his hand, parted the water, and allowed Emane to pass through ahead of him. Dropping the water back in place, he turned to Drustan. “Oh, and Shifter . . . I would not go around announcing your freedom or you might lose it.”

“Alcander.”

“Yes?”

“I have a name, and it is not Shifter.”

Alcander smirked. “Very well,
Drustan
. But I am warning you, you may prefer Shifter when you hear what Lomay has to say about your kind.” He parted the water with a wave of his hand, distracted by the chuckling from over his shoulder. “What?” Alcander demanded.

“Nothing, Tavean, I just noticed your water-parting is less dramatic than the one we saw earlier.”

Alcander shook his head in disgust, stepped through the water, and dropped it before Drustan could get through.

Alcander wasn’t but a few steps down the hall when an otter burst out of the water, still laughing in Drustan’s hearty tone. “Touchy, aren’t we?” Drustan said, dragging himself onto the rocks before shifting back to his normal form.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Canyon

THEY HAD BEEN FLYING in silence for hours. Drustan’s Pegasus head swiveled constantly from side to side, taking in the landscape. The tension had been thick when Kiora had finally woke to find the horses released and Emane, Drustan, and Alcander silently waiting for her.

Below them, deep canyons carved their way through the land. Kiora had seen a river earlier, but it seemed to have vanished. Looking closer she saw evidence that multiple rivers had once carved their way through here, but over time had vanished. Some had left deep canyons, while others were nothing more than small fissures in the rock.

Finally breaking the silence, Alcander asked, “You have promised to tell me what you are.”

Kiora smiled. “Human.”

There was a very long pause. Kiora didn’t bother to look back at Alcander; she could imagine his expression.

“What?” Alcander asked.

“Human,” Kiora repeated. “Emane and I are both human.”

She heard Alcander take a deep, slow breath through his nose. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to calm himself or come to terms with what she had just said.