Wings of Tavea

Chapter THREE

Deception


DRALAZAR SWEPT INTO ONE of the more magnificently furnished rooms he had given Layla. The bed was large with a sweeping black headboard and footboard to match. The room itself was draped in black and red fabrics, camouflaging the fact she was living in a cave. Two candlesticks with pewter snakes coiling to the top sat on the bedside table, red wax dripping down their serpent bodies.

Layla jerked up at Dralazar’s appearance, nervously smoothing down her brown hair. “Hello.”

“Are you ready to start training?” Dralazar asked, smiling down at his new pet.

“Of course.” She paused. “Training for what?”

“Your magic. We will find your strengths and hone them.” Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Dralazar put his hand on top of Layla’s. As he did so, his sleeve slid up, revealing two puncture wounds. The edges were rough, jagged, and wicked red. The wounds oozed a yellow-green liquid as if the flesh were eating itself. Red streaks from his wounds disappeared under his sleeve.

Layla gasped, her free hand flying to her mouth. “What happened?”

Dralazar jerked his hand back, restraining himself from hitting her across the face for the question. This was not the time for violence. He did not feel sure enough in her position to risk it, not yet. “That,” he said in a false calm, “is courtesy of Eleana.”

“Who is that?” Layla asked, her eyebrows pulled together.

“You could say she is the exact opposite of me.”

Layla looked curiously at the hand Dralazar had covered. “And she did that?”

Dralazar breathed in through his nose, exhaled through his mouth and forced a smile. This little girl was pushing her luck. “It’s a long story for another time,” he said pleasantly. “For now we will deal with you.” Dralazar brushed his fingers down Layla’s cheek. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

“Not anyone that mattered,” Layla said shyly, her eyes dropping to the bed as color flooded her cheeks.

Dralazar leaned in closer, brushing his lips against hers in a calculated seduction. “I am in need of a Queen,” he murmured, “to rule by my side when we defeat your sister.” He kissed her stronger this time, feeling her melt beneath him.

“Why me?” Layla managed to get out between kisses.

“I can think of no one I would rather have.”

He was attracted to her, which was convenient. But in reality, any sister of Kiora’s would have been more than he had hoped for. Through her sister, he could decimate the Solus. And when he was done with Kiora, she would have no powers, no love, and no family. He would leave her with nothing, except maybe her life. She would live, miserable, in the absence of all she held dear.

* * *

KIORA SAT ON HER BEDROLL, staring through the tree branches at the descending sun.

“I hope Drustan is all right,” she said, running her finger back and forth across the worn leather cover of her book.

Emane groaned, stretching his arms behind his head as he lay on the mat next to her. “I am not worried about him. Drustan seems to hold his own just fine. He didn’t have any problems against that Illusionist, did he?”

“Lucky for us,” Kiora said.

“I suppose I should stop harassing him about nearly killing me,” Emane said. “Seeing as how he just saved my life.”

“That reminds me.” Kiora summoned Emane’s sword and handed it back to him. “You know, Drustan really does feel bad about it.”

Emane smirked, giving her a sidelong glance. “That’s what he tells me.”

Kiora smiled as she looked down at the book. Pulling the cover open she flipped through the pages randomly before sighing. “It’s too bad this one doesn’t open to the pages I need like the Book of Arian does.”

Emane crawled over to her, poking his head over Kiora’s shoulder. “Anything in there about how to kiss someone without zapping them?”

“Who knows?” Kiora grinned. “I was beginning to think you liked it.”

“Hmmmm,” Emane mused, resting his head on her shoulder. “Not really. Just trying to have a sense of humor about it.”

“You—a sense of humor?”

“Hey,” he protested, jerking back. “I have a sense of humor.”

“No, you have a sense of sarcasm,” she corrected, turning to look at him with a smirk. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s true. If anyone laughs at you, you are usually trying to keep yourself calm.” Emane pursed his lips, and Kiora burst out laughing. “See, there you go again.”

Rocking back onto his heels, Emane stood. “I still think I have a sense of humor.”

“All right. You have a sense of humor.” She turned a page carefully, trying not to laugh. “As long as it’s not regarding you.”

He laughed and kissed her on the forehead. “You better get to work.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked as he walked over to the saddlebags.

“First, I am getting a snack.” Emane pulled a hunk of bread out of one of the bags. “Then—” He tore off a hunk of bread as he went to his bedroll. “I am taking a nap,” he managed to say with his mouth full before dropping down next to Kiora. “I spent my morning chasing some grey furball. Then I was drugged by some creepy creature. And to top it off, I was magically zapped for trying to kiss a beautiful girl. I’m beat!”

Kiora laughed, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the book. She scanned the inscriptions and diagrams on each page. At first she had been scared of the Book of Arian because some of the spells were dangerous. This was above and beyond that. Turning to the very back of the book, she frowned. She ran her finger along the inside spine of the book, feeling the ragged remnants of a page that had once been there.

Drustan suddenly flew through the enclosure, morphing back into a human as he landed.

Emane jumped and reached for his sword. “Drustan!” he shouted, slamming the sword back into its sheath in disgust. “A little warning next time!”

Drustan looked to Kiora, his eyes wide and haunted. “We have a problem.”

“What?” Kiora asked, setting aside the book.

“I couldn’t figure out what felt so different,” Drustan said, running his fingers through his hair as he paced around the small enclosure. “It was home, but it didn’t feel like home. I thought maybe I had just forgotten, it had been so long. But then the Illusionist said the good was gone.” He stopped to look at Kiora.

Kiora hesitated. “That’s what you went looking for,” she said slowly. “To see if the Illusionist was lying.”

Drustan nodded. “I hoped it just wanted to scare us but . . .” Drustan trailed off.

Emane looked between Kiora and Drustan. “Wait, what do you mean there are no good threads? How is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” Drustan said.

Kiora felt a sense of dread creeping in from all sides. “How are we going to find Lomay?”

“Eleana said Lomay would send someone for us, didn’t she?” Emane said.

Kiora stood, wrapping her arms around herself as she looked out at the forest. The trees seemed more threatening than they had a moment before. “Yes, but . . . if there are no good threads anywhere, it isn’t safe to travel without a bubble. And if we have a bubble up . . .”

“No one will find us either.” Emane sighed.

“Exactly.”

Drustan walked next to Kiora. “The Morow region is only a day’s flight, but the region is huge. There is no telling where Lomay might be.”

Kiora frowned, her stomach sinking as a thread slipped through the enclosure. “Who is that?”

Drustan’s head snapped up. “Who?”

“Can’t you feel him?” Kiora asked, her eyebrows pulling together. The thread was odd. It felt evil at first; but the longer she felt it, the more she questioned it. Something about it was . . . off.

Drustan stood very still, waiting to feel the thread before blurting, “He followed me!”

“Get the horses,” Kiora said. “We have to go.”

Drustan and Emane leapt into action, grabbing saddles. Kiora froze as a tall man

strode out of the trees. He wore a cloak similar to the ones Eleana had given them, the hood pulled up to hide his face. His head turned to one side, then the other. He stretched his hands out in front of him.

“Drustan,” Kiora yelled. “What is he doing?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it,” Drustan answered, jerking the cinch on the saddle.

The figure rolled his hands inward as if collecting something and then flicked it out. A brilliantly colored cloud of blue rolled out, covering the forest. The three watched as it came towards them, neatly outlining where their magical barrier began. Kiora’s heart stuttered as her mouth went dry. Their hiding spot lit up like a beacon. The figure leapt into the air, his cloak billowing behind him, vanishing into the trees. Emane, Kiora, and Drustan all froze, each with their hands on their saddles.

“Where did he go?” Kiora whispered.

There was no time for an answer before the man dropped his bubble.

Kiora and Emane barely had time to yank their hoods over their heads before the similarly robed and hooded figure stepped through the barrier.

The voice inside the hood said, “If you try to bubble, I will kill you all.” His clipped accent was one she had never heard before.

Kiora believed him.

Emane drew his sword with a hiss of metal and pointed it at the man.

“Foolish!” the faceless man snapped. “Especially for one with limited magic.” He came straight at Emane, putting himself within centimeters of the blade. “Drop it,” he pronounced slowly, “or I will make you drop it.”

“Listen to him, Emane,” she pleaded.

“Kiora!” he objected, keeping his sword level with the stranger.

The evilness of the stranger’s thread still didn’t feel right. The differences were subtle, something she probably wouldn’t have picked up on a few weeks ago. But as her magic continued to grow, so did her sensitivity to threads. This one felt wrapped in evil—she couldn’t sense what was underneath. “Trust me,” Kiora said softly, pulling nervously at the side of her cloak.

Emane lowered his sword. Kiora saw his nostrils flare beneath the shadow of his hood.

The man walked around the group, inspecting them all. Each of them stood deathly still in the thick tension. Kiora wanted to trust what her instincts were telling her, that his thread was not as evil as it seemed.

Emane, she called with her thoughts, I need to see your amulet. Can you pull it out without him noticing?

Emane waited until the stranger’s attention was focused on Drustan before swiftly pulling the amulet from underneath his shirt. It glowed amber.

Kiora relaxed. Amber meant friend. The way the stranger’s thread felt on the surface, the amulet should have been glowing red. But it wasn’t. Having the confirmation she needed, Kiora thought to Emane: He is a friend. A friend they were desperately in need of.

Some friend, Emane thought back.

The hooded figure said, “No need to disguise yourself as a Tavean, Shifter. Your thread gives you away.” Drustan did not respond but looked forward with tight lips.

The stranger moved back to Emane. “And what are you?” he asked, circling Emane. “I thought you had a small amount of magic, but upon closer inspection,” his hand whipped out, gripping Emane’s arm over the top of his armband, “it appears you have no magic at all.” Crossing his arms the man said, “I must admit I am intrigued. I have never met a Witow before.” Turning to Kiora he asked, “Can it speak? Besides your name, I mean?”

Kiora cringed.

“Can it speak?” Emane exploded. “Who do you think you are?”

“It can speak,” the man said, sounding amused. Kiora could almost see the smirk through the hood’s shadow. “I have only heard rumors of Witows, but they are said to be lacking intelligence.”

“How dare you,” Emane seethed, his hands balled into fists at his side.

The amusement quickly fled from the man’s voice. “How dare you. All of you!” he added, gesturing to the group. “Marching through this territory with no regard for the rest of us.”

Kiora stepped in to diffuse the situation. “What have we done?”

The faceless man turned his attention to her. “And who are you?”

“My name is Kiora.”

“I do not need to know your name,” he said shortly. “What are you?”

She wasn’t sure what answer he wanted, but she couldn’t give him any. Not that she was human, and not that she was the Solus.

He stood as if contemplating his next move. He finally reached back and pulled his hood off. He was stunning. His face was proud with harsh lines that suited him well. His brow, nose, and cheekbones were all chiseled. His eyes, of the clearest blue, were much lighter than Emane’s. His almost white hair hung down below his shoulders. His skin was so pale it looked closer to ivory. He looked ethereal, Kiora thought, like he did not belong to this world. Two pointy ears barely protruded from his fine hair. That explained Drustan’s long ears.

The man’s jaw clenched, his eyes moving to each of them in turn. “I have removed my hood. Would you please do the same?” he asked with forced politeness.

Drustan grunted his disapproval and Kiora hesitated.

“You listen to your slave?” the man asked Kiora.

“Slave?” Drustan asked.

“Shifters with threads like yours are slaves.”

Drustan stiffened and Kiora quickly intervened again. “He is not our slave.”

The man looked around at the three, clearly irritated. “We—” he paused before amending, “you are running out of time. I need to know who you are. If you will not cooperate, I will leave you to what is hunting you.”

The three looked nervously at each other. Kiora finally asked, “What is hunting us?”

The man with the ice blue eyes stepped closer to her, putting his face only inches from her own. “Your magic is strong. You should be able to feel them by now.”

Kiora held her ground against the urge to retreat. Closing her eyes, she reached out for threads. There. Far enough away that they were still faint, but too many to count and all evil.

Kiora’s eyes flicked open under the harsh gaze of the stranger. “Who are they?” she asked.

“The army sent after the foolish trio who walk though the Shadow’s territory without so much as a bubble,” he said, his voice low and cold.

Kiora could feel the threads stronger now. They were aligned in a horseshoe shape, moving forward. He was right—evil was spreading to flush them out.

Hoping the man wouldn’t see her fingers shaking, Kiora reached for her hood.

“Kiora.” Drustan’s voice held a warning note.

She paused, her hand on her hood, keeping her eyes on the man in front of her. “Drustan, he’s right. They are hunting us, too many to count. Right now we need a friend.”

“You don’t understand,” Drustan hissed, taking a step in Kiora’s direction before the stranger stretched out his hand again. It was a threat, no doubt. Drustan froze. “He has never seen a—” He stopped, not wanting to speak the word.

“I know. Please, trust me.” Taking a deep breath, Kiora pulled off her hood with a trembling hand.

The man’s eyes widened slightly. “What are you?” he breathed.

Kiora held his gaze. “A friend, I hope.”

The man narrowed his eyes before flinging his finger towards Emane. “Remove your hood, Witow,” he commanded harshly. Kiora nodded her approval and Emane obeyed. His ears were flushed red with anger. The man’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked back and forth between their faces. “Your features are similar, you are of the same species. But you are a Witow, and you—” his eyes locked with Kiora’s, “are one of the most powerful creatures I have felt in some time.”

Kiora swallowed. She didn’t know how powerful her thread was right now. But even as they spoke, magic was flowing to her. She had so much power she ached for a release. “What is your name, sir?” Kiora asked, raising her chin.

“Alcander.” He locked eyes with her, his brow still furrowed as if trying to put together a puzzle in his mind.

“Nice to meet you, Alcander. I am Kiora. This is Emane and Drustan.”

Alcander sighed in obvious annoyance. “I do not like working with those I do not know, but we are running out of options. We must leave immediately. Do you know how to disguise your threads?”

He was met with confused looks from Drustan and Emane. Kiora dipped her head to hide a smile. That explained the difference between what she had felt and what Emane’s amulet had showed. Alcander had disguised his thread. Brilliant.

“Obviously not,” Alcander said. “That partly explains your stupidity. I see you are packed, at least.” He nodded to the three waiting horses. “How long can you bubble, Kiora?”

“With four? I’m not sure.”

“An hour?” Alcander pushed.

“Yes.”

“Good, we will take turns until we get somewhere safer.”

“Wait a minute,” Emane sputtered. “You think we’ll ride out of here with you?”

Kiora placed her hand on Emane’s arm as Drustan stepped back, his eyes wide with horror.

Alcander nodded. “The Shifter finally feels the threads.”

“So many,” Drustan said, his eyes scanning the forest in front of them.

“I will not beg to help you. Are you coming or not?” Alcander asked tightly.

“Yes,” Kiora said. “We’re coming.”

“Kiora!” Emane hissed as Alcander stepped out of the barrier to whistle for his horse.

We need someone to help us find Lomay, Kiora thought. And whatever is chasing us is very serious. We have to trust him . . . he’s all we have.

Emane pursed his lips as Alcander reentered with his horse. He mounted his horse fluidly, his feet barely touching the stirrups.

Under the protection of Kiora’s bubble, the four rode into the meadow that flanked the forest. Finally Alcander interrupted the long silence.

“Kiora, could you join me please?”

She spurred her horse forward.

Alcander looked at her as he had before, trying to unravel her secrets. “You never did answer my question,” he said .

“Which one?” she said pleasantly, looking over the meadow as a distraction from his from his stunning profile.

“What are you?”

A faint smile played across her lips. “I find it an odd question,” she said, looking back at him. “What are you?”

Alcander’s mouth twisted in obvious annoyance. “I am the one who just saved your life.”

Nodding slowly, her eyes locked on the reins in her hand, Kiora sighed. If she told him she was a human, he wouldn’t believe her. And friend or not, she still wasn’t sure who he was or if it was safe to tell him she was the Solus. “Then I suppose I am the one you just saved.” She felt badly being so evasive, but she couldn’t tell him what she was, not yet.

“You are ungrateful.” Alcander scowled.

“I am extremely grateful,” Kiora said with a respectful bow of the head. “I am grateful we did not encounter whatever was hunting us. ”

“Then why will you not answer my question?” Alcander demanded. “You still ask me to travel with creatures I do not know.”

Kiora thought over her words carefully. “Knowing what I am will not help you to know who I am.”

Alcander’s shoulders relaxed slightly as he glanced at her. He looked almost impressed. “Well said,” he conceded.

“You would not believe me if I told you the truth. I do not wish to begin our journey with you thinking I’m untrustworthy.”

“You think me that narrow-minded?”

Kiora considered her response as the horse plodded through the tall grass. “I do not know you, Alcander,” she finally ventured. “But I know what I am, and I have it on good authority that you will not believe me.”

“You will not tell me?” Alcander’s chin rose high, imperialistic.

“Not yet.”

Alcander’s hands clenching the reins. “I don’t like it.”

They rode in silence for a moment. His back was rigid, elbows held tightly at his sides. Kiora cleared her throat. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?” she ventured.

“It is a rather brazen request considering you won’t answer mine, but continue.”

“Were you hunting us as well?”

“Tracking,” Alcander corrected. “I was tracking you.”

“Why?”

Alcander turned to her again, confusion etched between his eyebrows. “How can you not know?”

“There are a lot of things I don’t know,” Kiora said, drooping under the enormity of the unknown. Only a few days ago she’d felt she was finally understanding what was expected of her. Now she was back at the beginning.

“That is painfully obvious.” Alcander’s white hair flowed out behind him with the breeze. “I was tracking your magic. All good threads in this area have been eliminated one way or the other.” His eyes narrowed. “Yours was strong enough that things were stirring that ought not to be.”

Kiora was bursting with questions about the lack of good threads, him disguising his own, the world she had just walked into, and the Shadow. “I’m not from here,” Kiora started. “Can you tell me what happened? Why there are no threads like ours?”

One side of his mouth turned up before returning to his normal stern expression. “Not yet. Perhaps when you are ready to speak, I will be as well,” Alcander said with a hint of sarcasm.

Kiora stifled a laugh. “All right. I will make you a deal. When you are ready to believe whatever it is I tell you, ask me. And then you can explain everything I do not know.”

It took him a moment but Alcander finally agreed.

Kiora gave him a respectful nod and a shy smile before reining her horse to fall back between Emane and Drustan.

“I don’t like him,” Emane muttered out the side of his mouth.

Alcander’s head turned slightly, as if straining to hear the conversation over the hoof beats. Kiora called to Emane instead. I know, but he is on our side, and the only good thread we know of right now. You will have to be nice.

He asked if I could speak, Kiora.

He is testing us, she tried to reassure Emane. Trying to figure us out, that’s all.

Emane shook his head. He looks at me as if I am a disease. One he cannot decide whether he should feel pity for or be disgusted by.

After Emane had stopped vocalizing his displeasure and Alcander took over the bubble from Kiora, her eyes roamed over the countryside. The meadow had turned to beautiful rolling hills. Tiny homes dotted the hillside in random patterns. She couldn’t see any sign of a village, just homes within eyeshot of each other.

“Who lives here?” Kiora called to Alcander.

“Whoever likes to,” he answered over his shoulder. “Its rightful occupants have long since fled. A host of unpleasant things use them for shelter.”

The nearer Kiora got to the adorable little homes, the less adorable they became. It was clear they had not had a stable owner for some time. The roofs were in disrepair, holes peppering the tops of them. Doorframes sat crookedly with cobwebs laced through them. Drustan looked mournfully at the old homes.

What happened here? Kiora thought to herself. What am I supposed to save? It doesn’t look like anything is left.

They rode for three more hours, with Alcander and Kiora taking turns holding the bubble. She heard the pounding of the water long before they saw it. The air became thick with moisture that settled heavily in her lungs as the horses rode along the ledge at the top of the falls. A massive river flowed next to them, dropping with a roar to the valley below. Turning his horse without a word, Alcander led the way down the edge of the canyon to the base of the falls and into the river. All four horses stepped into the water, still foamy from its drop. Alcander dropped the bubble he’d been holding.

“We are within a barrier,” Alcander announced. “I assume you know about those?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he said to Kiora, “I can feel your power. I would like to see what you can do.” Pointing to the falls he demanded, “Part the water. We sleep behind it tonight.”