Wings of Tavea (28 page)

He stared at her for a long time before lowering his head. “You are right.”

“You are so calloused,” she said more gently. “I can’t become that.”

Pushing himself up, he said, “You won’t. If we are going to save Emane, we need to get started.” He turned and walked to the mouth of the river.

Feeling hope, she scrambled after him. “Are we going?”

He hesitated. “Not yet. We need to gather Intel first. Watch me,” he instructed before speaking the incantation for the air bubble clearly and slowly. The bubble formed around him. “Now you.”

She followed the instructions, repeating what he had said. A bubble formed around her as well, though it was larger than his.

She heard him saying something, but it was muffled. “What?” she shouted.

“You are a showoff,” he shouted back.

* * *

THE PAIN WAS INCREASING exponentially with every second as Emane began the ascent back to consciousness. He fought it, trying to return to the blackness where the pain had not followed. But it was no use—he was still burning from the inside out. His eyes fluttered open as a single sob escaped his lips, and that was enough. The jerk of his back and stomach taught him a quick lesson.

Gently moving his fingers, he began the healing process. Luckily he had been out long enough that his magic had returned. The relief of healing spread outward as he moved his fingers carefully to each new area. It took a few minutes, but he finally got the pain under control. Shaking, he relaxed flat, wiping the sweat from his face. He had to get out of here.

Rolling his head to the side, Emane stared into the plush room that surrounded his little cage. A glint of silver caught his eye and he pushed himself up. There, on a small table near the fireplace, lay his sword and dagger. Maybe if he could get them . . .

“Prince Emane, how are you feeling?”

His head jerked as a familiar face walked into the room. “Layla?”

“I am surprised you even remember my name,” Layla said tightly as she neared the cage. “Kiora had quite a hold on you.”

Emane eyed her warily. “And what use does Dralazar have for you? You’re just a Witow, like me.”

“Am I?” She opened her hand and flames flickered across her fingers.

He stumbled backwards. “You can do magic?”

“Yes, apparently I can. Thanks to Dralazar, I know how to use it.” Layla took a step forward. “Kiora wouldn’t tell me,” she said, raising her chin, “didn’t want me to know.”

“Layla, don’t be ridiculous. Kiora didn’t even know
she
had magic, let alone you.”

Layla took another step towards the cage, smiling at the flames in her hand. “That’s what she would like you to believe, but I know better.”

Emane took another step back. “Why, because Dralazar told you so? He’s lying, can’t you see?”

“Shut up!” she screamed, her eyes wide with a rage Emane had never seen in any of the villagers. “Don’t talk about him like that!”

His mouth snapped shut, his eyebrows pulling together. “Layla, what happened to you?” he nearly whispered.

“I had my eyes opened, and so will you. You will see Kiora for what she really is.”

He took two firm steps towards Layla, the bars between them crackling. “I have seen her more clearly than you ever will. There is
nothing
you can do to change my mind.”

“Where is she?” Layla asked through clenched teeth.

“I don’t know.”

Layla stepped so close to the cage, Emane could have reached out and grabbed her. Glancing over her shoulder, he tried to remember what Drem had told him. Feel the desire first, then call the magic. He would only get one shot at this.

“Where is she?” Layla shouted, fire flickering in both of her upturned palms.

“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.” His hand flew out, calling the dagger. The dagger wiggled before jerking itself off the table and flying across the room. It worked! But then it stopped, frozen in mid air, twisting and turning as if struggling against another force. Emane frowned, trying to force the dagger onward.

Layla whirled around as Dralazar unbubbled, his hand also extended towards the dagger.

“Emane, how interesting. So many things about you I don’t know,” Dralazar said. The dagger continued to turn in the air, spinning away from Emane. He resisted, trying to turn it back around.

With a crooked smile, Dralazar quickly twisted his hand, jerking the dagger free of Emane’s control. The dagger completed its turn in the air before whizzing towards Emane’s outstretched hand, the point of the dagger catching him in the palm and going straight through.

Emane yelled as he dropped to his knees, grasping his hand. The dagger was buried up to the hilt, the bloody point sticking out the back of his hand.

Dralazar strode across the room, slapping Layla across the face so hard she tripped, falling to the floor as well. “I told you to be careful!” he yelled. “A few more seconds and he would have had that dagger through your heart.”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I didn’t know.”

“Get up,” Dralazar growled. “Burn him. He needs more motivation to be cooperative.”

Layla pulled herself to her feet, her hand over her cheek. Dralazar grabbed both arms, looking into her eyes. “Don’t ruin this.”

She shook her head frantically. “I won’t.”

“That’s a good girl,” he said, leaning in and kissing her on the forehead. Smiling down at Emane, he laughed. “Is that dagger bothering you?” A flick of his fingers and Emane screamed as the dagger jerked free and flew through the bars into Dralazar’s waiting hand. “Goodnight, Emane,” he said, waving the bloody dagger. “If you won’t cooperate with Layla, you will have to deal with me in the morning.”

Layla’s arm dropped weakly to her side as Dralazar left the room. She had a red bruise on her cheek, and her eye was swelling shut.

“Layla,” Emane breathed, scooting closer to the bars, his wounded hand pinned against his chest. “I don’t have much left, but I can heal you.”

Her breath stuttered and her eyes narrowed. “What are you trying to do?”

“Nothing, I just . . . he can’t treat you like that.”

“What would you know about it?” she asked, squaring up to the bars. “Where is Kiora?”

Closing his eyes, Emane sat back. “I don’t know.”

He thought he heard a sob, and he opened his eyes just in time to see Layla put both hands out, tears running down her cheeks and flame spurting towards him.

* * *

“NO,” LOMAY SAID. “YOU cannot leave tonight.”

“You don’t understand,” Kiora shouted, near hysterics. “You didn’t
see
him. You didn’t see what they are doing to him.”

“I know you’re upset, but we cannot let emotions blind our logic. We will be ready for you to leave tomorrow. There are things that must be done first.”

“What things?” she demanded, swiping angrily at the hair in her face.

“I need to make some contacts before you leave. I will do what I can tonight.” He took her by the shoulders, his voice softening. “I need you to get some rest. Your dreams tonight may provide us with more information, something that could help us.”

“And what about Emane?” she asked, twisting away from him. “Am I supposed to forget he is being tortured?

Lomay paused. “His torture will go on for a very long time if you are dead before you reach him. ”

Her chest ached and throbbed as she stumbled to her bed. She didn’t

want to sleep. Her steps slowed as her eyes wandered up the path that led outside. She could leave right now. All she had to do was use a bubble and run.

Her heart grew heavier. No matter how badly she wanted to, she could not wander out there alone. She had only seen the smallest piece of this world, and it had already proven exceptionally deadly. Stomping up the steps she threw herself on her bed, exploding with the one emotion she had been trying so hard to hide. She cried and cried. She sobbed and pounded her fist into the bed until she had nothing left. Rolling over, she stared numbly at the ceiling.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when she felt a thread moving around, heading in her direction. It stopped right outside her bedroom window. Kiora waited, holding her breath, trying to figure out what he was doing. But Alcander did not move again. Finally she threw back the covers, wiped her eyes to make sure all the tears were gone, and padded over to the door. Poking her head out, she saw him sitting against the house with a pillow wedged behind his head.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

He seemed annoyed at having been caught. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

She cocked her head to the side at the ridiculousness of the question. “Why do you think? Why aren’t you?”

“I was waiting to see if you would be all right. With your dreams,” he amended.

She smiled softly, looking down at her feet. “Come in,” she said, holding the door open.

“No, I am fine.”

“Alcander,” she snapped. “This is your house, not mine. There are two extra bedrooms that—” she stopped, closing her eyes for a moment, “are not going to be filled tonight. And . . . it would be nice to not feel alone.”

He silently processed this before standing and walking into the house without a word. Rolling her eyes, Kiora closed the door behind them.

“Thank you,” she said.

“I will be in the back bedroom if you need anything.”

She watched Alcander go, still not sure what to make of him. He was usually so hard and calloused. He kept his gentleness and kindness carefully hidden, as if it were a bad thing. A weakness. Her eyes followed him, very aware of the grace with which he walked, the way his lightweight nightshirt flowed over his back and shoulder muscles. She immediately felt guilty for it. Crawling back into bed, she finally let her eyes close.

She was back in the palace of the Creators again. Nestor was running through the palace hallway, his skin lacking its immortal glow. “Jasmine!” he called over and over again, opening the door to a very large room. Sobs came from the back corner, and he ran to his daughter. She had wrapped herself into a ball and was sobbing into her knees.

“Jasmine, I am so sorry,” he said, pulling her into his chest. “I didn’t know, I didn’t think it would affect you.”

Kiora had to strain to understand what Jasmine was saying. Her voice was muffled as she leaned into her father. “I don’t want to die, Father, I want it back. I want my immortality back.”

Before Nestor could respond, the vision started to darken. A force pressed down on her, making it hard to breath. She could feel someone—something—coming. It was angry and dark.

“Kiora,” Alcander said, shaking her awake.

“What?” She struggled, clawing at the blankets and his hand as she took deep gasping breaths.

“What happened?” he asked, letting go of her. “You were fine, and then you were screaming and gasping and . . .” He scooted back on the bed, looking unsure. “It was like you couldn’t breathe.”

She swallowed, dropping her head back against the headboard. “I was dreaming about Jasmine and then a darkness came, and I couldn’t breathe.” She rubbed her throat. “I’ve never had that happen before.”

Kiora!
Emane’s voice came screaming into her head without a vision.
Stay away, Kiora. Please, stay away.

She scrambled out of bed.
Emane?
She turned in a circle.
Emane, can you hear me? Emane!
Her throat constricted painfully and her eyes burned at the pain he was suffering.
We are coming for you.
She waited another second, her fists clenching at her sides.
Emane!
There was no response.

“What is it?” Alcander finally asked, looking around the room.

She slowly turned towards him, fighting the desire to crawl into his arms and cry. “I heard Emane.”

“What did he say?” Alcander crossed the room, looking down into her eyes.

“He said to stay away.” She bit her lip, tears welling up and blurring Alcander’s face.

He frowned. “He wants to sacrifice himself for you.”

Kiora sniffled, nodding. “He was in pain.” Her chest jerked with a silent, empty

sob. “So much pain.”

“Drustan was right,” Alcander murmured. “It’s a trap.” He glanced towards the

window and grabbed her hand. “Come on, it is almost dawn. We need to check with Lomay and see if he made the contacts. We have to go.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Discovered

LOMAY LEANED FORWARD IN his chair. “You say you heard Emane? It was not a vision?”

“Lomay,” Alcander snapped. He set a bowl down on the small table, scooting it over to where they were seated. “She already told you. You do not need to ask her again.”

Lomay leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed appraisingly. “You are very protective of her, Alcander.”

A smirk spread across Lomay’s face as Alcander growled under his breath and stomped out. Kiora looked between the two, thoroughly confused.

“What are we going to do?” she asked, eyeing the bowl in front of them.

Before Lomay could answer, Alcander came back in holding a sphere of water between his hands. Without a word he released it into the basin.

Lomay looked like he was about to laugh, but only said, “Thank you, Alcander.”

Kiora gave up trying to figure out what was going on.

“We are here to plan,” Alcander said coldly, sitting on the stump. “Let’s plan. Everyday we leave Emane there, the worse her dreams will get.”

“You are very concerned,” Lomay noted.

“I will not listen to her scream anymore.” Leaning back he added, “The moral of the people is low due to Emane’s loss, and we can not gather the people to fight until we have the Solus and the Protector together.”

“Hmmm.” Lomay nodded. “Very pragmatic of you. Ever the leader.”

The tension in the room was thick as the two stared each other down. Alcander’s eyes were dangerous, while Lomay’s twinkled at a joke she clearly did not know. She couldn’t take it anymore, they needed to go. “I think Eleana used something like this,” Kiora said, running her finger over the bowl in front of her. “It acts similar to the Wings, right? Only less powerful.”