Wings of Tavea (13 page)

Read Wings of Tavea Online

Authors: Devri Walls

Tags: #Fantasy, #Young Adult, #Adventure, #magic, #YA, #dragons, #shapeshifters, #angels

BOOK: Wings of Tavea
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“You mean you stole them,” Alcander corrected.

Chapter Six

Interrupted Revelations

Lomay sighed. “My dear Alcander, We have been over this many times. I simply do not have time to revisit it tonight. Now,” he said, turning away from the Wings, “we will need somewhere to sit.”

Leaning down, Lomay passed his hand over the top of the water, whispering something under his breath. Upon his command, five spires of water pulled themselves out from the lake, spinning and twisting like green tornados. Under Lomay’s direction the spires moved from the pool to the ledge they were standing on. Once on land the spires began folding in on themselves, each independent of each other, until they became five chairs constructed of churning water. Hesitantly Kiora reached out to touch one. She was worried that upon her touch the twisting water would revert into a puddle on the floor. To her surprise it felt dry. Her eyes widened. The water churned and moved beneath her fingers but felt like softened leather. Kiora looked up at Lomay in amazement.

“Sit, sit,” Lomay instructed with a wide grin. “They are perfectly safe.”

Kiora slowly eased herself into the chair, still nervous. The chair felt solid and stable underneath her. Kiora smiled as she ran her fingers over the watery arms. Lomay had a flare for the dramatic.

Emane sat next to Kiora followed by Drustan, who had been especially quiet since they had come through the tunnel. Alcander sat on the other side of Kiora. Lomay joyfully hobbled over to the final chair and sat down, patting the arms of his water chair as if congratulating himself on a job well done.

“So, what would you like to know?” Lomay asked Kiora

There were many things she needed to know. But Drustan’s uncomfortable silence left her only one question she could ask. “I want to know why you think it is acceptable to keep the Shifters as slaves.”

Drustan immediately sat straighter in his chair.

“I had no choice,” Lomay said. “The Shadow used the Shifters to wipe the good from the land.” Kiora frowned. Who was this Shadow? “Watch.” Lomay reached out and the shimmering void in the middle of the wings snapped taut, solidifying. The pictures began to roll.

A group of creatures were moving through the forest talking amongst themselves. They were all Shifters, but in true Shifter form they had each chosen a favorite body to travel in.

“The orders are to exterminate all those who do not follow the Shadow,” a giant of a man said in a deep, rumbling voice.

“How many of our kind are with us?” a smaller black skinned one asked.

“All of them.”

“Are you sure?”

“I have gone to all the villages and met with everyone. We are in agreement. It is in out best interest to serve the Shadow.”

A third one in the group spoke, a fair-haired winged one. “Extermination? Is that necessary?”

The other two who had been speaking abruptly stopped, turning on him.

“You question Master’s orders?” the first said, growing in height as he spoke, looming over the one who dared question.

The second dark-skinned one grew fangs, also leaning in. “The Shadow knows best.”

The winged Shifter took a step back, looking nervously between the others. “No, of course not. I will follow the Shadow’s orders.”

The scene in the Wings shifted to a forest filled with trees Kiora had never seen before. The trunks were rough and leafless, except at the top. There sprouted large, flat, strange looking leafs. She watched a winged person flying just above the canopy. The picture followed the winged person to a wooden home built between two trees. The home was surrounded by many others, all similar in design. It was a village.

The Shifters followed the winged person home. They moved through the underbrush in various forms, surrounding the village. Simultaneously, the Shifters began changing forms. Some became winged people that were twice the normal size. Others tuned into dragons, snapping trees like twigs as they grew. The rest shifted into a variety of other animals, and all looked made for killing. A battle cry rang out and the two groups clashed. It was not a fair fight. The winged people dropped out of the sky like flies. Large furry animals leapt into the air, grabbing the winged people and crushing them with their jaws. Dragons blew fire, igniting the homes. Screams rang through the trees. One of the Shifters who had shifted into an enormous winged person grabbed a mother who was trying to escape with her young child and threw them into a tree. The force of the throw was so great her body broke as she hit.
Kiora whimpered as she watched the two tumble to the ground.
Within minutes the battle was over. There were no survivors. The ground was littered with broken and bloodied bodies. It was a massacre.

So much evil, so much death. Tears poured down Kiora’s face. Her arms and legs were trembling and her dinner threatened to come back up.

Emane squeezed her arm. “Are you ok?” he whispered.

“I’ll be fine,” Kiora whispered back, the wobble in her voice saying otherwise.

The Wings had grown dark but Lomay said, “Drustan.”

Kiora jumped, pulling herself from her own pain. She had not thought to see how this was affecting Drustan.

Drustan sat, clenching the arms of his chair, his face plastered with a mask of shock, disgust, and sadness.

Lomay continued. “The Shifters all turned. I searched amid the exterminations, looking for any that had remained true.” Lomay’s head dropped. “There were none. Not one Shifter was left who sided with us. They are a dangerous enemy as I am sure you know, especially with the Shadow behind them. Their numbers had grown so large they were nearly invincible. As the Shifters carried out their ordered exterminations, they would either kill or convert. Many turned to save their own skins. The Taveans were particularly quick to turn. Many others refused to bow to the Shadow, and they paid with their lives. Something had to be done. Entire species were being wiped out.”

“So you enslaved them,” Drustan said, swallowing hard.

Lomay nodded thoughtfully, his eyes very far away. “We captured many of the Shifters and gave them two choices. Either serve us and learn of the good they betrayed, or face execution. Many chose execution. But there were a few who chose to become servants. They are bound by magic. If they fail to fulfill the terms of their contract, their sentence will be carried out.

Kiora’s heart ached at the look in Drustan’s eyes. They were so . . . fractured.

Drustan finally turned to look at Lomay. “They said if they removed the bracelets they would die.”

“That is true.” Lomay nodded. “The bracelets keep them here. If they attempt to remove it, the bracelet will carry out the execution. It also monitors their threads. If they turn their hearts back to their old master, they void the terms of their contract.”

“They said you would force one on me.”

Lomay turned his head to the side, his gaze fixed on Drustan alone. “I see no reason why you should be bound by actions you were not a part of.” Drustan seemed to relax slightly under those words. “There is a problem, however,” Lomay continued. “The rebel camps kill all Shifters except those under contract, to protect themselves. The bracelets are the sign of the contract. Without one, you are in danger.”

“I will not wear one,” Drustan said firmly.

Alcander leaned across the arm of his chair, breaking in. “Then you have signed your own death warrant, you foolish—”

Lomay lifted up his hand, interrupting Alcander. “I assumed you would say that. It has been clear since you met Alcander where your allegiance lies. Your inability to mask your thread is the only reason he spared your life. I fear you will not be so lucky again.”

Drustan crossed his arms, his jaw clenching.

“I have an idea if you would do me the honor of listening,” Lomay ventured.

Drustan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he nodded his head.

“I have come up with a fake.” Lomay reached inside his cloak and pulled out a bracelet identical to the ones the Shifters wore. “This bracelet is enchanted to feel exactly the same as the original, but it is missing the most important part. This bracelet will serve as no more than decoration.”

Drustan twisted uncomfortably in his chair. “You want me to put that on,” he nodded his head in the direction of the silver mark of slavery, “and trust that I will be able to remove it?”

Lomay sighed. “Drustan, it did not bring me pleasure to do what we did to the Shifters. It was a matter of necessity, of survival. Despite what they may have told you, it was their choices that brought their fate upon them. I do not wish to punish you for things you have not done. You have aided Kiora and Emane, and I am sure you will continue to do so. I have felt your loyalty and do not believe it will change.”

Kiora felt the truthfulness of Lomay’s words. “It will be okay, Drustan,” she said.

Drustan stared distastefully at the bracelet. “Others will think I have done what my people have done,” he objected.

“They will,” Lomay acknowledged. “But it is better to be misunderstood by those who do not know than to be killed. You can pose as a servant to Kiora. I am sure she will treat you as anything but.”

Drustan grimaced, looking away as he shoved his arm out in silent agreement. Standing, Lomay made his way to Drustan, gently sliding the bracelet over his wrist. Drustan immediately grabbed it and jerked it off. Warily, he slid the bracelet back on, and then removed it again. “Not dead yet,” Drustan growled, slouching back into his chair.

“Who is this Shadow?” Kiora asked, anxious to get more information.

Lomay looked at them curiously, one large eyebrow rising. “You truly know nothing. How is that possible?”

Drustan answered for them, still twirling the bracelet around his wrist. “They—we,” he amended, “have been isolated for so long that many things have ceased to be passed down. And the Humans were completely isolated from whatever stories still circulated amongst the magical.”

“But why?” Lomay asked. “What of Epona? Why did she not teach them?”

Drustan sighed, his arm dropping into his lap. “It was Eleana’s orders that the Humans be left to their own devices. Their Kings felt that magic and evil were inexplicable connected—there could not be one without the other. So when Dralazar was defeated a thousand years ago, all memories of magic were lost. They knew nothing of us.”

Lomay’s eyes widened under the report as he leaned back heavily in his chair.

Alcander added, “They say she has known magic for less than two months.” He jerked his head towards Kiora.

“Truly?” Lomay asked with genuine surprise. “What did Epona tell you?”

Kiora relayed everything Epona had shared with her, which wasn’t much: That a Solus had been prophesied about for this land long before the gates of Meros were locked. That, as the Solus, she was to retrieve the stolen jewels. “I don’t understand though. What are these jewels, and how many of them have been taken?”

“All of them,” Alcander said bitterly.

“But Epona said—”

Lomay interrupted her. “When the gate was sealed, only some had been stolen. Since then they have all been lost.”

“Yes. These lights—or jewels, technically—were gifts from the Creators. From them sprang the source of hope and light.” Lomay smiled as if remembering better days. “Goodness radiated forth, bringing life to the land. But when they were stolen, evil gained its foothold.” Lomay turned to Kiora. “The longer they were gone, the stronger evil’s hold became. Darkness covered the land. Not a literal darkness, but an induced darkness. The people were lightless. Hopeless.” He shook his gray hair. “Hundreds of years passed and the wars began. Things only escalated from there. Thousands of years later and here we are. Good is holding on by its fingernails, and you are finally here to change it.”

Kiora felt the burden she carried on her shoulders become heavier. “What can I do?”

“You and your Protector—” He nodded to Emane, “will retrieve what was lost.”

“How are we supposed to do that?” Kiora asked.

A large ridiculous grin spread across his wrinkled old face. “I have no idea.”

Emane cleared his throat. Although Kiora couldn’t see him, she was nearly certain he had rolled his eyes. “How will we know where to look?”

Growing serious once again, Lomay answered, “The Wings will reveal the way to the right person at the right time. Many have looked—none have seen the answer. The Wings wait for the Solus.” He turned his eyes to the Wings and the rest of the group followed his gaze, looking expectantly at the blank center.

“They aren’t doing anything,” Kiora felt obliged to point out.

“No, I don’t think they will. Too many eyes. The Wings’ information is only meant for the eyes of the Solus and the Protector.” Lomay stood and gave a short bow to Kiora. “We hope you are indeed the one we have waited for. Come, Alcander.”

It was lucky Alcander stood quickly. As soon as the words were out of Lomay’s mouth he was waving his hands, sending his water chair back into the lake. Alcander barely had his weight on his feet before the chair swirled out from underneath him.

“Alcander, you will need to you use the air bubble spell I taught you the other day. The tunnel out of here is much longer than the one coming in.”

“Are you referring to the one I never had time to practice?” Alcander questioned.

“Yes, that one.” Lomay waved impatiently at him.

“If you wanted me dead, there are quicker ways than all these little tests of yours,” he said dryly.

“Oh Alcander, don’t be so dramatic. You’ll do fine,” Lomay said, patting him on the back. Turning back to Kiora, Lomay smiled with a joyous, hopeful look in his eyes. “Call me when you are done. I will come to help you out.”

“How generous of you,” Alcander mumbled.

“Thank you, I will,” Kiora said.

Lomay vanished before their eyes.

“How long does it take to learn that?” Kiora asked Alcander, referring to Lomay’s exit.

“Too long.” Alcander began forming a bubble around him. Not the kind of bubble Kiora was used to, but a filmy looking thing. He was completely visible within it, and his thread was just as strong as ever.

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