Wings of Tavea

Chapter EIGHT

Dreamless


KIORA AWOKE TO THE sound of life bustling around the camp. Rolling over, she tried to go back to sleep but felt Alcander and Lomay’s threads approaching. Sitting up, she hastily ran her fingers through her tangled, sleep-matted hair, wincing as her fingers caught a knot. She walked over the cold floorboards and opened the door before they could knock.

“Good morning,” Lomay said pleasantly, making his way up the stairs.

“Good morning.” Kiora’s eyes slid over the top of Lomay’s head to Alcander, who was wearing a loose white shirt, the top two buttons undone, and tight fitting dark pants. She couldn’t decipher his look, but it sent butterflies rolling through her stomach and blood rushing to her cheeks.

“I trust you slept well?” Lomay asked.

Kiora swallowed, forcing her eyes back to Lomay. “After I finally fell asleep, I suppose I did.”

“No dreams?”

“No.”

“That is too bad.” Lomay sighed. “No matter. I thought everyone might like to get cleaned up this morning. I brought Alcander to show you the way.” Alcander’s eyes glanced lazily to the side, clearly thrilled with his role. “After that, I had hoped to meet with Emane and Drustan.”

“What about me?” Kiora asked.

“No, you have much you can do without me. I assume you have a book from which to work. I was hoping to examine Emane’s armband. Possibly see what he can do.”

“And Drustan?” Kiora questioned. She was having a hard time keeping her eyes trained on Lomay. They continued to wander back to Alcander, who stood silently like a beautiful statue.

“I would like the history of your people from after the gate was shut, something he alone can offer me. Now if you would gather the others, Alcander will show you the way.” Lomay gave her a nod deep enough that it was almost a bow, then turned and went down the steps. Alcander watched him go before meeting Kiora’s eyes.

“Do you want to come in while I wake the others?” Kiora asked.

“No, I will wait out here.”

Fighting a looming eye roll, Kiora shut the door.

The others were just as excited about the prospect of getting clean and were to the door before Kiora could warn them who their guide was. As soon as Emane opened the door his body tensed. Sighing, Kiora pushed her way around Drustan and Emane before smiling at Alcander. “We’re ready.”

Alcander had clearly noticed Emane’s reaction. His shoulders shook with silent chuckles.

Following Alcander, they crossed the camp to the back of the canyon. Because of its elliptical shape, both ends of the canyon grew narrower until the two sides joined again, becoming solid rock. In the back corner a small piece of canyon wall jutted out before curling back in on itself. Kiora could hear the sound of water trickling. As they came around the edge of the curved wall, they emerged into a nearly enclosed rock room. A pool of water stood within, fresh water spilling down the rock. After the water landed in the pool, it ran on its way to join up with the river, which soon afterwards disappeared beneath the canyon walls. It was a perfect bathtub. Kiora looked up, watching the water trickle down, trying to decide whether it was natural or not. Alcander waved a hand, and a bar of soap and a pile of towels appeared on a rock next to the pool.

“Is there anything else you all require?” Alcander asked, his eyes only on Kiora.

“No, thank you,” Kiora answered.

Emane was busy looking around. “How do you keep from walking in on someone?” he asked, his hands on his hips.

Kiora cringed at the question as Alcander turned with a look that said everything. “I suppose we only need to worry about the Witow walking in on the rest of us.” He walked away, his laugh echoing behind him.

“What—” Emane started.

“Threads,” Kiora answered.

Emane turned red and Kiora fought the urge to chase after Alcander and give him a piece of her mind. It wasn’t Emane’s fault he couldn’t feel threads. Instead, she smiled tightly at Emane and Drustan and asked, “Who wants to go first?”

“Ladies first,” Drustan said with a sweep of his arm.

“Are you just being polite or do I smell worse than the pair of you?” she asked, pulling at her shirt in an attempt to lighten the mood. Drustan laughed. Emane, however, could barely manage a lip twitch.

“All right.” Clearing her throat, Kiora added, “By the way, Lomay wants to meet with you two.”

Drustan froze, the smile slipping from his mouth. Emane’s eyes narrowed as he glanced quickly at Drustan. “He says he wants to look at your armband,” Kiora said to Emane. To Drustan she said, “And to get the history of what’s happened since the gate was closed.”

“Why doesn’t he just ask the Wings?” Emane asked.

“Because,” Drustan answered, “these Wings don’t know. They were blocked from seeing the valley when the magic closed it off. The only Wings that give the history of Meros are the Wings of Arian.”

“All powerful, with a few exceptions,” Emane said bitterly as he walked out of the room. Drustan followed without a backwards glance.

Kiora waited for a moment before undressing and sliding into the water. She expected it to be cold. She should have known better. No magical creature would bathe in frigid river water. It was the perfect temperature and she sighed as she slid in. The rocks underneath the water were smooth and perfect for sitting on as she washed. Picking up the soap she scrubbed her arms, trying to ignore the lingering agitation she was feeling from Emane. It wasn’t easy. She felt so bad for him. Everything, even this amazing natural bathtub, was not something amazing in his eyes. It was just one more thing in a world he did not belong to. And no amount of green mountain magic would change that. She dropped her head into her hands. In the beginning she was so grateful to have someone with her so she wasn’t completely alone in this journey. But right now her heart was squeezed with a guilt that settled like a rock on the bottom of her stomach.

* * *

AFTER THEY HAD ALL washed and dressed, Kiora headed back to Alcander’s house to study while Emane and Drustan made their way over to Lomay’s. She stacked the books carefully on her bed. She intended to get to work, but instead found herself sitting on the bed, peeking out through the curtains to watch life in the camp.

The children ran, flew, and played in the middle of the village in a hodgepodge of dark skin, blue skin, feathers, scales and various colored hair. She couldn’t help but smile. One little girl that looked Tavean was yelling at a winged boy who had taken off during a game of tag. By the look on the little girl’s face, she considered him to be cheating. Pulling back her hands, the little girl attempted to force some air in his direction, assumedly to knock the boy clean out of the sky. The most she managed was some rumpled feathers as the winged boy made a clean getaway. Kiora couldn’t help but laugh.

The mothers milled around, glancing occasionally at the action. Some sat talking with another. Others worked in front of looms that seemed to be working themselves. Kiora noticed with some interest that every woman near the looms was half bird, half person. There were no Shifters in the square; she could only assume they were squirreled away somewhere doing whatever needed to be done.

Alcander walked over to the women. Each stopped to bow her head in respect before smiling and greeting him. He smiled back and spoke with them for a minute. Then he turned, catching sight of Kiora in the window.

She jumped back with a curse, pulling the curtains shut. She had no reason to hide—she had done nothing wrong. It wasn’t long before she heard the knock at the door.

“Come in, Alcander,” she yelled from the bed.

Alcander opened the door and stepped inside, the sun flaring behind him. The brightness left him as a black silhouette, but his white hair created a halo from his head down past his shoulders. As he shut the door behind him, the lighting returned to normal, and so did he. “Lomay sent me over to talk to you,” he announced.

“I thought he wanted me to study,” Kiora said, crossing her legs in front of her.

“There will be time. He wanted me to give you more of the history of our people. He is hoping the more knowledge you have, the faster the dreams will come.”

Kiora shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “What dreams?”

“He seems to think,” Alcander pursed his lips, “that the answers we are looking for will come to you through your visions.” He sounded more than skeptical.

“And you think he is just a crazy old man?”

“I don’t know what to think. I never do with you.” Kiora wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but he was already evaluating the room. “Lomay removed every bit of furniture when he made room for the three of you. I will have to summon a chair if we are to talk.” A second later a familiar wooden stump of a chair appeared next to him.

Kiora turned her head to the side, her eyebrows pulling together. “Is that Lomay’s chair?”

“Yes. I do hope no one was sitting on it,” Alcander said, taking a seat and looking rather pleased with himself.

Kiora knew immediately that someone had been sitting in it, and she had a sneaking suspicion of who. Emane would be furious when he arrived home later and found the chair.

Kiora pushed herself up against the wall. “All right, now that you have your chair, what are you going to tell me about?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of her.

“The Creators.”

“Oh, I had Drustan explain that to me last night.”

“I see,” Alcander said, his eyes moving to the floor.

“You could tell me about the Shadow,” Kiora said, perking up a bit. “The gate was closed right after the first light was taken, so Drustan didn’t know much.”

“Very well.” Alcander somehow managed to relax against the wall and still look regal. “What would you like to know?”

Kiora chewed her bottom lip. “If we are supposed to fight against it, I need to know everything.”

Alcander took a deep breath, crossing his ankle over his other knee. “No one knows who the Shadow is or where it came from. The first time it appeared was when it stole the first of the lights. The people saw a great Shadow rising out of the ground, the light from the jewel shining weakly from within it. As it left, things dulled. Most people thought it was crazy, that no one could find the lights, that maybe the first one had been a fluke.” Alcander looked at her, his eyes intense. “But the Shadow came. And when it did, all magic failed. Every ward, every trap, every enchantment flickered and died within its presence.” His gaze slid away from hers.

Kiora, who was listening with rapt attention, finally whispered, “Why?”

“We don’t know.” Shifting on the stump, he looked back at her. “Wherever the Shadow is, magic ceases to exist.” He stopped, letting that little tidbit of information settle. Kiora felt her nerves flare at the thought of fighting something that could take away her only advantage. “It took all the lights, one by one. When it came for the last light, the people gathered around, pleading with the Shadow to leave it with them. A voice came forth, announcing that the lights were just the beginning, and next it would come for them. It would remove every source of good, every ounce of happiness from the world.” Alcander swallowed. “True to its word, the Shadow started the war between good and evil. It recruited followers and destroyed the rest. The only ones who survive the Shadow’s attacks are forced into slavery.”

“Slavery?”

“Yes, there is a pit where many of our people are held. They are forced to labor until they are so weak they are of no use, at which point they are murdered.

“Despite the threats, many resisted in the beginning. The Shadow would have failed without the Shifters.” In response to her look of confusion he continued, “Wherever the Shadow is, no magic can be used, remember?” She nodded. “That advantage is fairly useless when those on your side are also stripped of their magic. So it went after the Shifters. A group that could use their magic to pick whatever shape was needed yet not lose that shape when the magic stopped working.”

“They can’t shift into a new form, but they don’t lose the form they are in,” she clarified. It made sense. The Shifters had no shape, no true form. That also explained the scene in the Wings where the winged people were felled like trees. “That’s how they annihilated entire groups of people,” Kiora said.

“Yes.” Alcander dropped his foot back to the floor, leaning forward. “The people they went after were helpless, crippled by the Shadow’s influence. They were slaughtered.”

A tear slid down Kiora’s cheek.

“The Shadow’s following is large enough now that the Shadow itself hasn’t been seen in a very long time. The rebels’ numbers are so small. Evil has enough of an advantage in numbers alone.” Alcander’s head dropped, his hair covering his face in the first show of emotion Kiora had seen from him.

“And it won’t be enough, will it? Not until all the rebels are gone.”

“Those of us who haven’t converted live in camps. Hiding, training, and gathering Intel.”

Kiora glanced back out the window. “Why are there only women and children?”

Alcander sat up, any sign of grief gone. “This is a different camp,” he said. “It is the safest because of Lomay’s presence, so this is where the men send their wives and children when they are assigned to the other, more dangerous areas.”

“Do none of your women fight?” she asked, peeking behind the drapes.

“It depends on the species,” Alcander explained. “Some do, others do not.”

Dropping the curtains, Kiora asked, “What of the Taveans?”

“Some of our women fight. It depends where their strength lies. In other species, such as the Omelians, only the men fight.”

“Omelians?”

Alcander’s eyebrows rose. “Yes, you were just looking at them.” He pointed to the window. “They have ostrich bodies from the waist down.” He waited for recognition. When there was none, he clarified. “An ostrich is a flightless bird about as tall as you. Do you not have ostriches where you come from?”

Kiora shook her head. “No. We have birds, but nothing that looks like that. ”

Alcander seemed to think this over as he leaned back against the wall.

“Why are you here?”

His eyes fixed on her for a very long time, and Kiora resorted to picking at the blanket to escape the intensity of his gaze.

“Lomay requested that I be here,” he finally said. “He was sure the time of the Solus was approaching.” He gave Kiora a look that spoke of irritation and pent-up anger.

Clearing her throat, she asked quietly, “How long have you been here?”

“Ten years.”

“You were stuck here waiting for me for ten years. Is that what you are saying?” Kiora asked, meeting his eyes.

“Indeed.”

The next question bubbled out of her almost involuntarily. “So instead of taking out your aggression on me, you take it out on Emane.” She tried to hold his gaze but faltered, her eyes flickering back to the bed.

“I told you,” Alcander said tensely. “I do not like Emane because I find him inadequate for the job.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I remember. But it seems like you have been angry for a very long time.” Kiora glanced up at him. “I think you needed someone to take it out on.”

He stared at her, his jaw working. “You are a very strange girl.”

“Why do you say that?”

Alcander leaned forward again, his elbows on his knees. “Because you are extremely powerful, yet scared of bridges. You are nervous and proper one minute, but the next minute you say things as if you can see into my soul. And the strangest thing of all—you don’t even know you’re doing it.” He blinked, jerking straight up like he was surprised by his own words.