Wings of Arian (49 page)

Morcant rose up on his hind legs with a roar, wings flapping, trying to place his body between her and Soolan. Seeing his opportunity, Soolan slashed upward with his front claws as Kiora dashed back between Morcant’s hind legs. Soolan’s claw entered Morcant’s body, in the exact spot where Emane had sunk his sword in Jarland, he pushed deep, slashing open Morcant’s chest. A roar and Morcant went limp crashing to the ground.

“MORCANT!” Kiora screamed.

“As I was saying,
Morcant
,” Soolan’s head moved down to Morcant’s drooping ear. “When your luck runs out I will be ready.” Soolan’s eyes flickered up to Kiora. “And now for you…” Multiple roars sounded from above them and Soolan’s head jerked up to see a horde of Shifters and Guardians pouring down on them.

Soolan’s head swung back, eyes narrowed. “Next time, perhaps.” Then he jumped over her, spread his wings and shot to the sky.

“Help me!” she shouted. “Somebody help me!!” Frantically she climbed over Morcant’s back leg that lay skewed at an awkward angle. Blood was pouring out from underneath him, soaking the dirt and turning it black. She ran through the mud and blood, she had to get to Morcant. She could still feel his thread, but it was barely there. Falling next to him, Kiora placed her hand on his snout.

“Morcant?” she whispered.

The world had gone quiet. She couldn’t hear the fighting, the yelling, the crackling of fire. All she could hear was Morcant’s strained breathing. Leaning back she yelled both out loud, and in her mind.
EMANE! I need you!!

“Little one,” Morcant wheezed.

“Oh Morcant, hold on,” tears slipped down Kiora’s cheeks as she ran her fingers over Morcant’s snout. “Hold on.”

“Don’t forget what I told, you little one.”

“Hey now,” she said rubbing her hand along his jaw. “Don’t talk like that, Emane is on his way. He can heal you, I know he can.”

“I have lived a long life, Kiora, it is alright.”

“No, it is not alright. I need you Morcant, you always know the right thing to say,” she whined.

Morcant wheezed a laugh. “I don’t think anyone has ever said that about me before.”

“It’s true.”

He rolled his head to the side, looking her in the eye. “When you go through the gate, visit my home for me.”

“What are you talking about?” she said through tears. “Your home is here.”

“No,” he blinked slowly. “My childhood home. An island, past the oceans. They called it Toopai.” He breathed it out as if it were heaven itself, his eyes fluttering. “Promise me you will visit, promise.”

Forcing a smile, Kiora agreed, “Of course Morcant, but...the gate is sealed, I can’t....”

“Take a scale,” he coughed, blood dribbling out the side of his mouth. “It is what we do.” His voice weakened even further, the beautiful booming base having left him. “When we die, there is a place where a scale is left,” another cough racked his body, “in remembrance of those who are gone. Please, leave it there.”

“Morcant,” she placed her hand on his head trying to smile, “You are going to be fine, you...”

“Good bye, little one,” Morcant gave a serene smile and exhaled one final time as his thread went quiet.

Letting out a wail of agony, Kiora collapsed against him.

Arturo and Emane came in behind her, Emane dropped to the ground before Arturo could even land, and ran to her.

“What’s wrong Kiora, what’s wrong?”

Looking up frantically she pleaded. “Heal him, please heal him, Emane.”

Arturo stepped in between Emane and Morcant shaking his head at Emane while speaking to Kiora,
There is no bringing back the dead Kiora. He is gone.

Drustan landed in Dragon form, quickly morphing back to human. “What is wrong with you people!” he demanded. “You don’t just give up the chase and let him GO!”

“Not Now!” Emane yelled at him. “Look around before you start yelling at people!”

Kiora had thrown herself back over Morcant’s nose sobbing hysterically. One by one the Shifters and the Guardians returned to the ground, paying their respects to one dragon who never gave in to Dralazar.

Emane finally placed his hand on Kiora’s arm. “It is finished Kiora, we need to go,” he said as gently as he could.

She nodded knowing what she had to do. Hesitantly she reached out to Morcant’s body, pulling one brown scale gently from the underneath of his jaw. It was smaller than she had expected it to be, fitting within the palm of her hand. Wiping her eyes she looked around. The group before her was battered and bruised and barely visible through the smoke. “The Hounds?” she asked.

“Dralazar must have called them back,” Drustan informed her. “We went to deal with them but they were already heading out of the forest.”

She nodded solemnly.

Come,
Arturo said.
You must get everyone to safety and they will not leave without you.

Leaning over Morcant one last time with his scale clasped in her hand, she kissed his nose. “Thank you, for everything” she whispered.

Chapter Twenty-seven

AFER THE BATTLE

ARTURO LED THE WAY to the villagers, during which the Shifters and the Guardians gave inventory of the casualties they had witnessed. Drustan had lost six Shifters that he was aware of. The Guardians had sustained no losses. Kiora told Emane of Ciera, and although there was no love lost between the two, Emane was visibly saddened. No one deserved to die that way.

Eleana had established the camp within the forest to the west of what remained of Meros. A large natural clearing was being used for eating and gathering while the tents for individual families were scattered throughout the trees giving them as much privacy as possible. Eleana had shielded this clearing as she had shielded the Hollow, maintaining all threads safe within its borders.

When Kiora entered the camp, the people were clapping and cheering the return of the Solus and their Prince. Kiora looked around as she clung to Emane’s arm. She was so horribly numb that even that had begun to hurt. The people crowded in around her, smiling, frowning, all a buzz of questions. Her eyes slid from face to face in a daze unable to say anything. Outside the crowd a few groups stood gathered along the border looking up at the pillars of thick black smoke billowing up through the sky. Her life, their life, it was gone, all of it.

Kiora slid out from Emane’s grasp, smiling weakly at his question as she tried to slip out of the crowd. Hands ran over her, people tried to stop her, all asking questions. She just smiled, shaking her head, blinking back tears.

I’m sorry Emane, I can’t do this,
she thought to him.
Please, you are much better at this than me.

Go,
he thought back.
I understand.

Slipping past the last of the group, Kiora bubbled. Turning, she watched Emane holding his arms up, trying to quiet the group. “One at a time, one at a time!” he shouted. “Please. We will tell you everything you want to know.”

She knew they would ask who had died, how many of their friends had been lost. She couldn’t watch the expressions of joy switch. Turning, she ran through the mess of tents looking for one that was not occupied. She mourned for her people, for her home. But right now, more than anything, she mourned for a dragon, the pain of which none of the villagers would understand.

Pulling back the flap, she sagged under her grief. Slumping across the tent she took only enough time to kick off her bloody shoes before collapsing onto the bed. Burying her face in a pillow, she cried out as much as she could, weeping and screaming and pounding her fist into the bed. The thick blanket of exhaustion carried her off to sleep. She went willing.

Had she known how tormented her dreams would be she would have fought them harder. She dreamed of Hounds and dragons and death. The faces of those she knew had been lost rolled through, demanding remembrance, and thereby forcing her to relive the pain of their loss. She tossed and turned, yelling out, but nothing could change what had already passed. She watched Layla throw Ciera to the Hounds, watched Gwen die after she had realized the truth with no time for Kiora save her, and watched Morcant’s eyes close for that last time, over and over again.

And then, mercifully, the scene changed and she was back underneath the weeping willow tree with beetles whispering to her. “Don’t forget, don’t forget.” And then it moved back to the gate, smoke and shadows swirling around it. In her dream she reached out to touch it— only the fear of feeling that betrayal again finally ripped her from the nightmare. She woke with a start, breathing hard.

“Good morning.” Emane was sitting at the foot of her bed.

She blinked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “How long have I been sleeping?” she groaned, pushing herself up. She hurt everywhere.

“Quite a while. You slept through dinner and breakfast. It’s almost lunch.”

She moaned again, flopping back down on her bed, wrapping her arms around her head. The battle had left her sore, but beneath that the new magical current flowed underneath her skin, feeling like a rain-swollen river fighting to leave its banks. She tried to look past it, but it was stronger than before. “I feel terrible,” she moaned.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

“Everywhere!”

Emane scooted closer and put his hands on her back. Comfort spread out from his palms, soothing every muscle and ache. Kiora relaxed under his touch as he moved up to her neck and shoulders before asking, “Where else?”

Sitting up, she held out her arms that had been scratched to pieces running through the forest.

“How are the people?” she asked, watching him take her forearms.

“As well as can be expected. Many are mourning those that were left behind. Others are already asking how long before they can rebuild.” Inch by inch, he wiped away all evidence of the battle she had been through.

“Thank you, that was amazing,” she sighed.

Taking her hands into his he asked, “How are
you?
”

“I don’t know,” she grimaced. “It’s hard to think past all this magic running through me.”

“I can’t heal that,” he said with a crooked grin. “But I could offer a little distraction.” Leaning in he kissed her. Her whole body went fluid, and pliable. Falling into him she wrapped her arms around his neck. It was like the first summer’s breeze flowing through her, wiping away some of the remaining pain, the kind his healing magic couldn’t reach. His kisses were so tender she lost herself in his embrace, feeling her magic slip for the briefest of seconds before she reeled it back in.

Emane jumped off the bed with a yelp, “What was that!?”

Kiora’s hand flew to her mouth. “I don’t know, I… what happened?”

“You shocked me!” He rubbed his lips. “Hard.”

“I am so sorry.” She dropped her head into her hands. “It’s all this magic. Every time I think I understand what is going on there is more!”

Emane put his finger underneath her chin, pulling her face up to. “No, it’s ok. It’s not your fault.” He kissed her again. “And I am fine.” He smiled at her and sat down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Clasping his hands in front of him, Emane was quiet except for a couple of rather large, frustrated breaths.

Kiora shifted awkwardly, “What?” she finally asked. The other option was to let him sit there and huff at her all day.

He gave one more large sigh, “There is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Is this about me sending you with Drustan? Emane, I did the best I could, I...”

“No,” he interrupted getting to his feet, “just listen.” He paced back and forth across the tent. “I am your Protector,” he started, his hand at the hilt of his sword as though he going to start swinging it around the room. “How am I supposed to protect you if you are sending me off to fight somewhere else?”

“You protected me,” she objected.

“No I didn’t. As I recall you saved me,” he gave her a look, “twice. I was a perfect target that Dralazar could use and did use, to pull you out of the fight. And then,” he stopped in front of her gritting his teeth, “you poured your magic into me leaving yourself helpless! Had Eleana not intervened…” He stopped, shaking his head. “We both know what would have happened had Eleana not intervened.”

Kiora closed her eyes as she saw the bolt of red magic leave Dralazar’s hand, in what she was sure was to be the last moments of her life.

“What was I supposed to do?” She asked softly.

“I don’t know.” He kicked at some imaginary stone on the floor “We are at a disadvantage. Fighting with magic is still new to you, and I grew up learning strategic lessons in history classes, all of which are proving to be completely useless among the enemy we are facing. But I do know this: I cannot protect you if I am not near you.”

“I understand.” Pushing herself off the bed she took his hands in hers, looking at him intently. “But Emane, there will be times where we will have to separate. And there will be times where I will protect you as well. I need you to be ok with that.”

He looked down at her hands, his lips pursing forward. She could nearly see what she had said rolling around in his head. “I will trust your judgment,” he finally said, squeezing her hands.

Jerking her hands away from him Kiora stepped back. “Why are you so willing to trust my judgment!?” she cried, turning away from him. “My judgment nearly got us both killed. And it cost Morcant… I mean I…” she covered her face with her hands as if she could hide from it.

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s my fault Morcant’s dead,” she wailed, “My magic ran out, that’s why Soolan attacked. Morcant opened himself up to an attack trying to shield me.” Tears poured down her face.

“Hey,” Emane said turning her around, “look at me.” He peeled her hands back from her face, searching her eyes with his. “It’s not your fault Kiora. It is Dralazar’s fault,” he said firmly. “Morcant knew what he was doing, he chose what he wanted to do. He was willing to risk his life for yours,” he put a finger under her chin, “as am I.”

She sobbed, turning her head away. “I don’t want any of you to.”