Wings of Tavea (12 page)

“I am sorry to interrupt your conversation,” Alcander said coldly. “But dessert is served.”

Kiora glared at Emane. “
Now he’s mad again.”

Good,
Emane thought, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms.
Somebody needs to teach him he can’t have everything he wants.

Kiora added some of the fluffy, white dessert to her plate, trying not to slam the spoon back into the bowl. The first bite was so amazing it melted away a bit of her aggravation. It was cold and creamy and tasted of vanilla and honey. She ate in silence.

After dessert was eaten and the dishes cleared, Lomay stood and the table fell silent.

“Thank you for a lovely evening, my friends. I am sure you are all wondering about our guests.” He motioned to Kiora. All the eyes at the table that had been avoiding her now felt like they had permission to look. She blushed. “I know there are whisperings among you. I cannot confirm what I do not know, so you will have to wait.” There were a few audible groans. Lomay smiled back at them. “Your prince has a few more words.” He sat down.

Emane’s head snapped up, looking at Kiora in confusion. But Alcander rose instead.

“Our new allies are not from here. There is much they will need to learn, and I may be calling on some of you from time to time to assist in the training. I dismiss you all to return to your homes for the evening.” Alcander stayed standing as the table emptied. Once everyone had left, Kiora turned to Alcander.

“Prince?” Kiora asked.

“Not much left to be Prince over,” Alcander answered, leaning forward with his palms on the table. “But yes.”

“I never thought I would be privileged to know
two
Princes.”

Alcander looked to Drustan. “You?”

“No,” Emane snapped, folding his arms. “Me, you idiot.”

Alcander stiffened. ”Watch how you speak to me, Witow.”

Emane stood, leaning over the table. “Do
not
call me that.”

“It is what you are,” Alcander said through clenched teeth.

“If we are to abide by that line of logic, it seems
idiot
is not out of line. It is what
you
are.”

Kiora saw Alcander’s hand begin to rise.

“Stop,” Kiora yelled. “Stop it. You are both acting like children.”

“Indeed they are,” Lomay said as he pulled himself out of the chair. “Come, we have a long night ahead of us.”

Alcander stood tall, glaring at Emane before turning on his heels to follow Lomay. Kiora fell silently in behind him, not looking at Emane. She was so angry that she didn’t pay any attention to where they were walking until they started to climb the steep incline they had descended on their way in. The anger fled and fear clenched her; they were heading back to that ridiculous bridge.

She had once crossed a bridge without assistance when Emane had been in trouble. She could do it again, right? Kiora tried to give herself a pep talk the whole way up the canyon ridge. Her mind was listening, but her heart was hammering away as desperately as before. Alcander stopped before he went out onto the bridge and offered Kiora his hand without a word. She looked from his hand to his face.

“I assume you are still scared of this bridge,” he said with a smirk that on anyone else would have been unattractive. Oddly enough, it gave Alcander personality. One that he kept carefully hidden.

Something nudged at her, warning this was not a good idea. But she was too preoccupied with the pounding in her chest to pay it much heed. Taking Alcander’s hand, a strange tingle ran through Kiora’s fingertips. She looked down curiously but Alcander pulled her forward, taking the first step onto the wood-and-rope death trap.

Swallowing back a whimper, Kiora allowed Alcander to lead her out. The rope was rough under her grasp and was rubbing her palm raw as she slid it tightly along, placing one foot in front of the other. As if her own fear weren’t enough of an obstacle on its own, she was being rocked by waves of anger and jealousy emanating from Emane. A board creaked under her feet and she squeezed Alcander’s hand so hard her knuckles ached. She could have sworn she heard Alcander chuckle.

When they finally reached the other side, Kiora forced her knuckles to relax enough to let go of Alcander’s hand. Taking a deep breath she thanked him for his help, tucking her hair behind her ears.

Alcander looked over the top of her head and smiled at Emane, who was still on the bridge. “My pleasure.”

Kiora’s ears turned bright red. She knew it had been a bad idea.

They all followed Lomay into the cave, walking until they came to the same river that made its momentary appearance before disappearing underground. Lomay turned and placed a ball of fire on the floor before grinning at the group. It was an interesting sight. A perfect ball of green flame burning on the stone floor. The flames rolled in and around but never left its sphere, casting a green glow that crawled up the walls and washed over the group.

“So, Alcander,” Lomay said with pride, “have you figured it out yet?”

Alcander sighed in annoyance. “No.”

Lomay laughed, a deep belly laugh. “Alcander has searched for the Wings for years. I have given him clues, but he always comes back empty-handed.”

“What a shame,” Emane mumbled.

Lomay’s smile faded as he scanned the group. “I will take you all to the Wings, but I must have a promise that you will tell no one where they are.”

“Why?” Kiora asked.

Lomay looked straight at Alcander as he answered. “People have a tendency to rely on the Wings instead of themselves. It cripples them.”

“They are here for a purpose,” Alcander objected.

“A purpose, yes, not your purposes,” Lomay answered. The joyful smile returned and he turned to face the water. “I have not done this in some time,” he said rubbing his hands together in front of him. “I forgot how absolutely unnerving this is. Hold your breath—and do try not to hit your head on the rock.” Lomay jumped in the rushing river and was sucked underneath the wall of the cave, disappearing from sight. The four of them stood there in shock, looking at the place he had vanished.

“You have got to be kidding,” Emane finally said. “He wants us to drown.”

Alcander took a shaky step forward, looking nervously at the rushing water. “That tricky old bat.” He did not look in any hurry to follow Lomay.

Emane strode past Alcander and leapt into the water. Kiora saw a flash of blond hair as he was sucked underneath the rock.

Drustan walked up next. “What’s the matter, Prince? Afraid?” He laughed, jumped into the water, and was gone.

Alcander looked at Kiora with an intensity that caught her off guard. “I am surprised they left me alone with you.”

Kiora’s cheeks flushed. “What do you care?” she snapped. “You accomplished your goal—Emane is furious.”

“I was just trying to help,” he said, his cool blue eyes unwavering.

“No, you weren’t. You were trying to make him angry and jealous.” Pursing her lips, she added, “Congratulations.”

With a deep breath and two steps forward, Kiora jumped into the river. The water was shockingly cold and shot through her like a thousand needles. Her body’s instinct was to gasp, and she desperately fought to hold onto her air. Remembering Lomay’s warning she tucked her head to avoid slamming it into the rock as the current pushed her beneath it. She still felt the rock skim the top of her head, sending her heart pounding out of control.

Kiora’s body shot helplessly through a pitch-black tunnel of water, her shoulder slamming hard into the side. Her eyes flew open, but there was no light to help her get her bearing. She was helpless, blind, and encased in rock. Kiora’s fingers brushed desperately against the sides of the tunnel, looking for a way out as her lungs started to burn. A glimmer of light caught her eye and she kicked ferociously towards it, her body screaming for oxygen. The light grew brighter. And then her head finally broke the surface. Gasping, she sucked in enormous mouthfuls of air. The air was stale and musty and thick, but she didn’t care. It was soothing the searing pain in her lungs and Kiora welcomed it.

A few seconds later another head broke the surface. Alcander had come through right behind her. He gasped for air and moaned, floating on his back. Blood poured down the side of his head from a large gash. He had hit the rock on his way under.

“Alcander!” Kiora cried, treading water. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” he answered weakly.

“Come on.” Kiora grabbed his arms and pulled him as she swam to the edge of the pool. Emane and Drustan helped Alcander out of the water, laying him gently on the rock next to another glowing green sphere. They pulled Kiora out next. Stumbling over to Alcander, Kiora checked his injuries. The gash was about six inches long on the crown of his head. It was a wicked cut with jagged edges that sent blood pouring down his face, turning his hair from white to red.

“He’s losing a lot of blood,” Kiora said, looking over her shoulder at Emane and Drustan.

“Lomay,” Alcander moaned. “Lomay can heal it.”

“Where is he?” Kiora asked. She hadn’t seen anyone other than Drustan and Emane.

“He said he forgot something and then disappeared,” Emane said, trying to sound disinterested.

Alcander pushed himself up on his elbows. “It’s all right, I just need to put some pressure on the wound.”

“Lay down,” Kiora demanded, putting one hand on his chest and pushing him back down. Looking over her shoulder, Kiora’s jaw clenched. Neither Drustan nor Emane seemed terribly concerned. Emane stood looking the other direction with folded arms, as if he could make the situation less real by ignoring it. “Emane,” she said.

“Kiora!” Emane objected, dropping his arms back to his sides. “He said he’ll be fine.”

“Emane,” Kiora snapped. “I don’t care whether you like him or not, this is your responsibility. And look at him—he will not be fine.”

“I don’t need his help,” Alcander said, trying again to get up.

Kiora pushed him down again with a huff of aggravation. A pool of blood was collecting on the ground underneath his head. The cut was obviously deeper than she had thought. “Emane, do it.”

Emane rolled his eyes and mumbled, “If he calls me a Witow after this . . .” He knelt beside Alcander, who watched him warily. Emane placed his hands on Alcander’s head. Kiora waited for the wound to heal, but the blood continued to flow under Emane’s touch. She didn’t understand until a memory floated through her mind. When they had discovered Emane’s gift, Eleana had said he would be able to heal anyone he cared about. Emane’s dislike of Alcander was affecting his ability to heal.

Kiora leaned over and whispered in Emane’s ear, “I know you don’t like him. I know you are mad at both of us right now. But being angry does not make it all right to lose control of your gifts. He is a living soul. Help him.”

Emane’s shoulders drooped as if weighed down by her words. As his body relaxed, Kiora could feel his anger diminishing. She turned her attention to Alcander, her eyes closing in relief as his wound began to knit itself together beneath Emane’s fingers. When it was healed, Emane dropped his hands as Alcander reached up, his fingers wandering in disbelief over where the wound had been.

“You heal,” Alcander said very slowly.

The only sound in the cave was Emane’s footsteps slapping against the stone as he walked away from Alcander, kneeling down at the waters edge.

“Thank you,” Alcander said, almost inaudibly.

Emane was silent. Leaning forward he began to scrub the blood off his hands.

“Isn’t that interesting?”

A voice came from the darkness as Lomay’s thread slid through the space. Kiora looked around but could not see him. The green sphere lit only a small area; outside of that, blackness pressed in on them.

“A healer,” Lomay’s voice came again, followed by his familiar laugh.

Alcander rose to his feet, throwing his bloodied hair over his shoulder. “Lomay, if you mean to talk to us, at least move where we can see you.” Striding past Emane, Alcander dove into the pool. He surfaced a moment later and scrubbed the blood off his face and hair.

Lomay walked out of the darkness and into the light. “You owe him a debt of gratitude, Alcander. You also owe him a reappraisal of his worth.”

Emane jerked to his feet. “I do not wish to be reappraised,” he snapped, looking down at Alcander. “My power does not change who I am.”

“Well spoken, my boy,” Lomay said. “But your power is not what I was referring to. I was referring to your willingness to heal one who has treated you so poorly.”

Alcander flinched in response to Lomay’s observation.

Lomay continued, “It speaks much of who you are and why you have been called.” His eye darted over to the dark water where Alcander bobbed. “Alcander! Stop playing in the water, there is much to do.”

Lomay extended his hand towards the side wall, smaller spheres of light exploding out of his hand. One by one he lit small stone torches that had been placed around the cave. Kiora finally understand where they were. The underground river had surfaced in one more cave before it continued out into the canyon. The opening where the water had surfaced again was so large it had turned it into more of a small pool than a river. Kiora could see on the far side of the cave where the water began to pick up speed again before disappearing under a rock shelf. The pool was surrounded on every side by a ledge wide enough for ten men to stand. The far left side of the cavern opened up, and sitting on a large, flat rock shelf were the Wings.

They looked very similar to the Wings Kiora had known from Meros. There were subtle differences that suggested a different maker, but they had been patterned the same. The feathers were smaller, more delicate looking, and fitted closer together. But the gold still sparkled, reflecting the light back into the room as the Wings towered towards the cavern’s ceiling.

“The Wings of Tavea!” Lomay announced, his chest puffing with pride.

“Tavea? You mean like Tavean?” Emane asked.

“Yes. When the people became too evil to have them anymore, I took them to a safe location.”