Wings of Arian (39 page)

The Shapeshifters completed their transformation moments before crashing into the canopy. With a move worthy of any acrobat, they each flipped and turned their now massive bodies, righting themselves before they could begin flapping their leathery wings. The eight, now dragons, turned back to the sky gaining altitude. As Emane’s heartbeat returned to a normal pace, Arturo spread his wings and joined the dragons.

Arturo was flying as Emane had only felt him do once before. Emane kept his arm wrapped around Kiora and put his head onto her back as they shot through the sky. She only screamed once on the way to the castle, but it was the worst one yet, making his skin crawl and his heart break.

As the castle turrets appeared in the distance. Emane yelled into the wind, “Drustan! We can’t land eight dragons into the castle courtyard. We will frighten the villagers.”

Drustan’s dragon ears pulled tight against his head. “What do you suggest my Prince?”

“Is anybody following us yet?”

There was silence as the Shifters sensed in every direction looking for a thread. “Not yet,” Drustan finally answered, “Not unless they are bubbled.”

Damn those bubbles
, Emane thought, “Drustan I need to you to bubble to get beyond the castle walls. Once you’re there I need you to change into something small and hide in the gardens, at least until I can explain.” That was going to be fun, explaining Shapeshifters to his father.

“Understood,” Drustan shouted back.

Emane watched the ground below for any people outside the village’s limits who might have spotted them. One by one the dragons disappeared until it was just him and Kiora on a pegasus, making their final approach into the castle. As soon as Arturo’s feet hit the ground, the bindings holding Kiora vanished. Emane slid off, keeping his hands on her to prevent her from falling. Gently lifting her off of Arturo, Emane cradled Kiora in his arms as he rushed into the castle.

***

Emane had already planned to place Kiora in the room next to his, with the intention of staying with her until she awoke. Instead, he found himself stalking down the stone hallway because Eleana had insisted Emane speak with his father immediately. Kiora had not left his side during his ordeal, and yet he had left her with a maid to tend to her, instead of being there himself.

He hadn’t gone far when another problem reared its ugly head.

“Where is he?” A harsh female voice demanded from around the corner. Emane stopped short. How had he forgotten
that
?

“Beggin’ your pardon miss?” A maidservant replied.

“Prince Emane, you fool!”

Emane cringed. It was uncanny how fast word travelled amongst the staff— and from there anyone within the walls of the castle.

“Miss, I don’t know where he is,” the servant stuttered, “and if I did, it wouldn’t be my place to say.”

Emane smiled,
Bless her heart, a member of the staff who can hold her tongue.

“Need I remind you that I am your future queen?” The voice dripped with contempt.

Emane peeked around the corner to see Ciera looming over one of the maids.

“No miss, you needn’t remind me. I am well aware.” Emane found himself smirking at the tone the maid had taken. He was not the only one dreading Ciera becoming queen.

“What did you say to me?” Ciera snarled.

Emane sighed inwardly. He supposed he should save the maid.

“Ciera,” Emane said, strolling around the corner. She had once enthralled him with her beauty, but that was gone now. The long blonde hair and big brown eyes were nothing but a facade hiding a much nastier interior. And in that second, before she realized he was there, the facade was down and Ciera’s interior looked even nastier than Emane remembered, it markedly resembled the evil he had seen a few times now. And then it was gone, her wall neatly rising. Ciera’s face softened, turning as if nothing had happened. “Emane! There you are darling.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I have missed you so much!”

He gently untangled himself from her arms without reciprocating the sentiment. “Ciera, I need to speak with my father.”

“Of course. I will join you!” she said, linking her arm though his, oblivious, or choosing to be oblivious to his lack of enthusiasm. Emane tried to force his shoulders to relax but having Ciera so close to him set his nerves on end.

Emane entered the throne room with Ciera on his reluctant arm.

“Look who has come home, your majesty!” Ciera gloated as she flounced into the room, her blonde curls bouncing behind her.

“Emane!” The King rose to his feet embracing his son. “I am so relieved to see you home.” He smiled at the vicious beauty attached to Emane’s arm. “Ciera has been worried sick as well.”

“I am sure she has been,” Emane said dryly. He was positive that Ciera’s feelings had everything to do with being queen and little to do with being his wife.

“Where is Aleric?”

“He should be along shortly. We will need to meet with you, there is much to discuss.”

The King raised his eyebrows “Is the…”

“Yes, she is here.”

“She?” Ciera prodded. “She who?”

“She is staying in the chamber next to my room and is not well. Aleric will explain when he arrives.”

The King smiled broadly, “Have you eaten, son?” Not waiting for an answer, as usual, the king continued. “Ciera please have someone bring the Prince some breakfast.”

Emane could feel Ciera stiffen next to him. He had to suppress a smile, she preferred to give orders than to take them.

“Of course, your majesty.” Her lips formed into a tight line before she turned and swept out of the room.

Emane relaxed in her absence, “We need to meet as soon as Aleric arrives. They want us to help prepare battle plans.”

The King and Emane headed towards the meeting hall. “How long before Aleric arrives?”

“I am not sure. They came behind us on foot.”

“On foot?” The King raised an eyebrow. “How did you arrive?”

Emane hesitated, “Aleric will explain that as well.”

His father had a habit of looking at anything that was out of the ordinary as if it were a green rabbit with three heads. Explaining arrival on a pegasus would not go well. His father had practically forbidden Aleric to speak of magic at all. Just as he had forbidden Emane to speak of evil, or any prophesies.

Entering the meeting hall, they sat at a large circular table surrounded by chairs. The usual silence they shared settled in as they waited for the others to arrive. The two could not be more different, like two sides of a coin. Emane’s father was steeped in traditions and custom, whereas Emane preferred to take his own road. As a result, they had always struggled to relate.

“Emane, you have been gone for weeks with no word. Have you nothing to say to me?” his father finally said.

I have plenty to say,
he thought,
but nothing you’re going to like.
“Things have been going well. The Solus is progressing quickly, she will be a valuable asset in this war.”

His father leaned in. “I have been reading the history books and the prophecies while you have been away,” The King looked pleased with himself, “Trying to make sure I understood everything. It came to my attention that the Solus always has a Protector assigned to them. Any idea who or what that might be?”

Emane froze,
did he know already?
“Why do you ask?” Emane said, searching his father’s face.

“Things seem to be progressing quickly, from what Aleric tells me. I had hoped one had been chosen.”

“One has,” Emane ventured cautiously.

“Wonderful!” the King said slapping the table. “Will they be joining us?”

Emane squirmed in his seat. This was getting worse with every question. “Father its…”
Just say it
he thought. It was either now or later. “It’s me.”

At first there was silence, and then his father’s eyes began to bulge, his customary redness building in his neck before rising to his face. “You?”

Keeping his eyes locked on his father’s, Emane nodded.

“You? Emane, you can’t possibly be the Protector. You are the heir to the throne and my only son.” His voice began to rise. “You are a non-magical human.”

I was before I mined it out of a mountain,
Emane thought.

“Emane, I will not allow this!”

There it was again, everyone making decisions for him. Emane’s teeth clenched as his temper flared. “With all due respect, father, I am of age and it is my choice to make.”

The King’s face turned more purple than red. “You plan to go marching off to this battle, to be slaughtered. Leaving your bride here, alone.” The King closed his eyes, jamming his thumb and forefinger in the corners and rubbing, hard. Dropping his hand back to the table with a thud he challenged, “And what if I am to forbid it?”

Emane gripped the side of his chair trying to reign in his mouth, “Father, I am of age and have made this decision for myself. As heir to the throne, as you keep reminding me, it is my duty to protect the kingdom. And that is what I intend to do.” His resolve deepened, determined to address the matter of Ciera before Aleric and the others arrived. Emane met his father’s eyes and set his chin. “And as for ‘my bride.’ Father, I will not marry that girl.” He stood defiantly.

“Sit down,” the King commanded

“Father—”

“Of age or not, I am still your father. Now SIT DOWN.”

Emane dropped back into his chair.

“We are going to talk.,” his father said, smoothing his robes.

“Are we talking father? Or are you?”

“I send you with Aleric,” said the King, “and you come back disrespectful of your father, and forgetting your duties as future king!”

“Aleric has nothing to do with this. And as much as I would like to, I have not forgotten any duties.”

“And what of Ciera?” his father demanded.

“What of her? She is no duty of mine.”

“She most certainly is! As prince, you are expected to marry the girl that has been chosen for you. It is a duty!”

“No father, it is your idea of duty. Where has it been written or decreed?” Emane waved at the shelves of books behind them. “Nowhere. It is tradition, so in your mind it must be followed.”

The King’s nostrils flared, “I picked the most beautiful girl in the kingdom and you are still not happy! It has been this way for hundreds of years, been a blessing for hundreds of years. Allowing us to have someone who hears and knows the voice of the people. Someone who was not raised in royalty to continue the line.”

Emane snorted, “You think that girl gives any thought to our people. She may have been born a villager, but she cares for no one but herself!”

“She cares for you.”

“No, she cares for my title.”

He took a deep breath, “Emane, please be reasonable.”

“I do not love her, Father.”

The King huffed as if that were the most ridiculous thought in the world. “You will, in time. It took time with your mother and I as well but—”

“No Father, I will never love her.”

“Emane, you are just a child,” he said wearily waving Emane off. “You do not know what love is.”

Emane’s anger burned deep within him and his voice trembled with the force of it. “I am not a child, and I know plenty of love. Love is wanting to be with that person for the rest of your life no matter of the consequences. Love is being willing to sacrifice your life for somebody else.” He met his father’s eyes, “Love is seeing the good in somebody regardless of their title or station in life. Love is so
painful
and yet so wonderful that it is worth it!” Emane pushed himself back up again from the table speaking deliberately. “Love is understanding that someday you might lose the person that you love, but that every day you get to spend with them is worth the risk. Love is taking the good with the bad.” His voice rose with each sentiment. “Love is trust. Love is
wanting
to understand even when you don’t.” Staring at his father, Emane added, “I know of love, Father, and I did not learn it from Ciera.”

***

Dralazar stood in the shadows of the forest, just outside of the small cottage that Kiora had grown up in. Layla was heading back in for the night, and Dralazar smiled as he watched her go.

“She was a perfect find, Raynor,” he said.

The black pegasus shifted his feet, crunching dry pine needles beneath them.
Anger is an easy mark.

“Easy and useful, she has spread the word nicely.”

Does she know yet, that she can do magic?

“No idea.”

Will you teach her?

“I detest taking on pupils,” Dralazar said, crinkling his nose, “with any luck she will garner enough support for our side that we will not need her in any other capacity.” Dralazar’s head swiveled to the castle, “What is that?”

My lord?

“Can’t you feel her Raynor? Kiora is here.” He frowned, rubbing his fingers over his chin. “I would have expected Eleana to mask her thread, so why didn’t she?” he muttered. A breeze of magic swept past Dralazar and he held out his fingers, feeling it. It was behaving strangely, sweeping past him as if it were being pulled onward.

My lord, the sky.

The sky over the castle was turning a deep purple, swirling with magic. “No,” Dralazar whispered, “it can’t be.” His mind raced forward, if it were true...

We should attack now, while she is...

Dralazar’s eyes shifted to Raynor narrowly.

That is if my Lord wishes it.

“No, Raynor.” Dralazar’s insides quivered with an excitement he hadn’t felt in far too long. The excitement and thrill of power. A smirk pulled at one side of his mouth. “Tell Soolan to meet me just outside of Eleana’s reach. We wouldn’t want her picking up on our threads, would we?”

Chapter Twenty-three

THE CATALYST

“IT’S TIME TO WAKE up, Kiora, come back to us.”

Kiora heard the words floating around her, but was lost in a sea of foreignness. Her senses were overwhelmed as she wandered alone in the darkness of her own mind. She couldn’t make sense of where she was. There was a current running through her veins, coupled with the most exquisite, all consuming pain. She couldn’t find where it began, for it didn’t have an ending. The pain was, if possible, magnified by an intense anger simmering within her. This too felt foreign.
Emane!
She remembered with some relief the source, and grasped at the familiarity of his emotions, despite how nasty they were. Yes, it was his and he was very angry.