Warriors of Wing and Flame Page 2

  A separate tug of awareness pulled my focus. I glanced up to see Raidyn watching from across the table, eyebrows pulled down over his brilliant blue-fire eyes. His concern was palpable even with the space between us. The sanaulus from when he’d healed me had grown even stronger after we saved Inara together, nearly draining us both. No one had ever been healed after having their power ripped from them before; she was the first known Paladin to have survived it—because of us.

  After living my entire life believing Inara was the only one who had inherited our father’s power, it turned out we’d been wrong.

  In the hours that had passed since that death-defying act, Raidyn’s eyes had grown brighter and brighter as his power rebuilt within him. There hadn’t been time to ask why my eyes didn’t glow, when it turned out I did have power after all. Though I really wanted to know, glowing eyes—or the lack thereof—was low on the list of questions that needed answering at that moment.

  “So, what do we do now?” Loukas finally broke the silence. He sat stiffly, skin pallid and his temples damp. Raidyn had only partially healed his wound—sustained while fighting Barloc beside my grandfather—just enough to keep him alive. Raidyn and my father were hesitant to use any more power than absolutely necessary, needing to reserve as much as possible in case Barloc did make another appearance. But though Loukas was still in pain—at least until Raidyn finished healing him later tonight—he’d insisted on coming to dinner.

  “How long will the jakla’s ability to absorb our power last? At what point can we fight back?” one of the two Paladin I didn’t know asked. He was young, maybe only a couple years older than me. We weren’t sure how many more had come from Visimperum; it had all been so chaotic. I had been so intent on my sister, I only had vague recollections of Paladin and gryphons coming through the gateway before it had shut again, trapping us all here. Not all of them had returned yet; we knew that much.

  “There’s no way to be certain, Ivan,” Sachiel responded. She’d cleaned the blood off the side of her shaved head, but she still looked more worn than I’d ever seen her; there was a tightness around her eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there before the events of this day. “His ability to continue to absorb our power could last through the night … or even for a few days. It depends entirely upon how much power he already stole and how his body responds to the change.” Her glance slid to Inara, then back to her plate.

  My sister stiffened beside me; I sensed her misery intensify at the reminder of what had been done to her—what had been ripped from her. Raidyn and I had barely managed to save her life. The memory of that gaping hole within her, roughly patched together by our joint power, sat heavily in my belly, leaving no room for any of the food I’d put on my plate.

  “Is there a chance he won’t survive it?” The young Paladin—Ivan—sounded so hopeful.

  “If he were fully human, there would be a possibility of his body being unable to handle it,” my father answered this time. “But if, as he claims, he had a Paladin grandparent, the chances of him surviving the change are much higher.”

  “He claims to have had a Paladin grandparent?” Sachiel’s eyebrows rose.

  My father sighed, using his fork to push his half-eaten potato around his plate. “Yes. He said there have been other Paladin who have opened the gateway and traveled to Vamala at different times, and his grandfather was one who came with a small group about a hundred years ago. He didn’t tell us why they came—but based on what he wants to do with the Paladin power he’s claimed, I don’t think it was anything good.”

  “What does he intend to do?” Sharmaine, who had remained silent the entire time, finally spoke. I tried not to think of Raidyn running out to her when she and Sachiel had returned, how he’d enveloped her in his arms.

  “He said he was going to find other Paladin who feel the way he does. He believes we deserve to rule over the humans because of our power and strength. He intends to bring an army back here and show Vamala what the true might of the Paladin is, and he will be the one to unleash it on them.”

  Sachiel and Father shared a grim look. “You don’t think he’s part of the Infinitium sect … do you?” she asked.

  The unfamiliar phrase sent a shiver over my skin, raising bumps on my arms, as though some deep, visceral part of me understood the direness of his speculation, even if my mind didn’t.

  “I don’t understand how he could be … having lived here his whole life. But the fact that he knew how to steal Inara’s power and the things he was saying—wanting to gather an army to rule over the humans—it’s deeply concerning.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Loukas muttered.

  Everyone fell silent. Who knew where he’d go or what he’d do now that so much of his plan had failed. But my guess was that he wouldn’t stay away from the gateway for long. Not if an army was what he was after. I didn’t know what the Infinitium sect was, but it didn’t sound good.

  “Halvor, he is your uncle. You knew him best.” My father turned to Halvor, sitting beside Inara. He flinched at the reminder, his plate as untouched as the rest of ours. I wondered if his stomach was cramping, sick, like mine. “What can you tell us about him?”

  “Nothing,” he answered quickly, too quickly, his neck flushing. Some of the Paladin exchanged glances with eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t know about any of this, I promise. He kept some of his books hidden from me—locked in his office. He said he would let me read them when I had proven myself a better scholar of their ways. But now … after…” His eye flickered to Inara, then away again, the flush spreading to his cheeks. “I wonder if he didn’t want me to know what he was really researching.”

  “But he couldn’t have known there was a Paladin at the citadel … could he? How could he have created a plan to come here and steal Inara’s power if all of Vamala believed the Paladin to be gone?” Sachiel pointed out.

  Inara’s fingers were entangled in her dress, so tight I feared it might rip. I hesitantly reached over and put my hand on top of hers. She flinched at the unexpected contact, but quickly turned her hand over to thread her fingers through mine, clutching me as tightly as she had the fabric. And with that grip, her shoulders sagged infinitesimally, as though my touch were enough of a balm for her to release her guard, ever so slightly, the concealed truth of her suffering pressing down on her.

  “My uncle—Barloc—the jakla—” Halvor stumbled over the words, his uncertainty and confusion evident in his every tone, the way his gaze moved from person to Paladin to person in the room, fear coating his skin like sweat. “He was connected to anyone in Vamala who had ever expressed an interest in the Paladin. Those who venerated them and wished they hadn’t gone, and those who feared and hated them. Both groups had theories of their continued existence, hiding in the shadows. He spoke to me of rumors … stories whispered about a town at the base of the supposedly abandoned citadel, how the villagers spoke of Paladin living there, hiding there behind the hedge. That was part of why he’d wanted to come, why he asked me to fund our expedition. I thought it was to learn more about them, to possibly meet and help them, if they truly did live here. I never thought … I never would have…” He swallowed hard and broke off, his eyes dropping to where I clutched Inara’s hand, our fingers interlaced, knuckles white. “I’m so sorry.”

  There was a long pause, before my father said, “We know you had nothing to do with his actions. You need not fear us.”

  Halvor looked up at him, a sheen on his hazel eyes—a reflection of firelight or tears, I couldn’t say.

  “Which brings us back to the question of what do we do now?” Loukas asked.

  Halvor sagged back into his chair at the turn in conversation, the focus drawing away from him.

  “I think we stay close to the citadel, run patrols, take watches, and wait and see. He’ll show his hand before too long.” My father looked to Sachiel, the other Paladin general in the room, and she nodded in agreement.

  “We’ll be safer in numbers
, so I think staying close together—and to the gateway—is for the best. At least for now. Though he won’t be an expert at utilizing his newly gained power, he will have sheer will and strength on his side until the power settles.”

  “We’ll divide into pairs, then, and take shifts. The rest of you try to get some rest.” My father’s pronouncement signaled an end to the meal—for the few who had managed to eat anything—and within moments, they were all pushing their chairs back and standing. I avoided looking at Sami, afraid she’d be upset by how little of the food she’d painstakingly prepared had been consumed.

  “I’ll take the first shift,” Sachiel volunteered.

  “I’ll go with her,” the other unknown Paladin, a female who looked Mother’s age, added.

  “Thank you, Lorina.” My father nodded toward her and she inclined her head. “I’ll take the next shift, then, in a few hours.”

  “I’ll do it with you,” Raidyn immediately spoke up and my father nodded.

  My throat tightened at the thought of both of them out there, during the night, waiting and watching … not knowing if or when an attack might come. Barloc’s eyes and veins pulsing blue—my sister’s blood on his mouth and chin—flashed, a lightning strike of memory. A sudden pressure in my chest stole my ability to breathe.

  “Inara … may I walk you to your room?” Halvor’s hesitant question startled my sister, her fingers flexing against mine. But then she released my hand and stood with an attempt at a smile.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, but paused to glance back at me. I nodded for her to go. If she wished to be with him—if it would bring her any joy or comfort—she should go.

  My father walked out the door behind Inara and Halvor, deep in conversation with Sachiel. My mother shadowed his every step as though afraid he might disappear into the darkness once more, his return nothing more than a phantom of her imagination.

  It was impossible to believe this had all happened today. That this morning I’d been in Visimperum, standing by the luxem magnam with my grandfather, saying goodbye to the breathtaking room full of light that was the birthplace of the Paladin and their power. And tonight, his lifeless body lay in the citadel where I’d been born and raised in seclusion. A cold wave crashed over me, despite the waves of heat from the fire engulfing the stack of wood nearby. I shivered as Sami finished gathering the leftover food onto her tray, and the other Paladin divided up the night and next day into shifts. It was a burble of sound and activity that washed over me without piercing the pounding of blood in my ears. My body flashed cold then hot, my breath came faster and faster—

  Someone touched my arm, and I jerked with a half-swallowed gasp.

  “Zuhra, are you all right?” Raidyn’s voice was a low murmur.

  I blinked, shocked to realize everyone had gone, save for Loukas hovering by the door with Sharmaine at his side—both of them watching me.

  And Raidyn. He’d stayed. His fingers still lingered on my skin; only the slightest pressure, but it was enough to bring me back to my senses, to interrupt the unaccountable panic that had seized me.

  “I … I’m sorry,” I finally responded.

  “For what?”

  I looked up into his glowing, blue-fire eyes, and lifted my shoulders slightly. I wasn’t even sure; I didn’t know what else to say after all that had occurred—knowing they were now trapped here with us.

  After a beat, he said, “It’s been a very long day. I think it might be best if you lie down, try to get some rest.” His fingers curled around my arm, and he tugged, gently pulling me into motion, to my feet first, and then toward the door.

  “I can’t lie down. Not yet.” A knot lodged in my lungs, trapping my breath at the mere thought of facing my empty room alone with the panic still simmering within me.

  “I was going to check on the gryphons in the stables. Could you show me the way?” Sharmaine asked. “Then you can go finish healing this lout before he undoes everything you already did,” she added, jerking a thumb toward Loukas.

  “Did you just call me a lout?” Loukas’s eyebrows lifted.

  “Yes, I’ll go with you,” I immediately agreed. Anything to avoid my room—and the solitude that awaited me there.

  “Great, it’s settled.” Sharmaine smiled at me, that same genuine smile I’d come to know in Visimperum.

  Whatever was going on between her and Raidyn—or me and Raidyn—she continued to treat me like a friend. It made the jealousy I struggled to subdue all the hotter in my chest. It would have been so much easier if she were rude or unkind. I could have hated her and felt justified in hoping to win Raidyn’s affections—taking them from her.

  I averted my eyes from his searching gaze as I followed her out of the room, my cheeks and neck hot. My arm still tingled where he’d touched me as we left the boys behind us and silently began to walk through the shadowed hallway. Sharmaine paused after a moment and turned to me. “This place is … something else.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.” The wide, dark hallway gaped open before us, pulsing with oppressive menace. Nothing like the castle in Visimperum that was all light and bright white marble and shimmering diamonds. “Follow me.” I took the lead, and we lapsed back into silence, passing the old, familiar statues, tapestries, and doorways I’d spent my entire lifetime with, but now experienced anew, as I tried to imagine what Sharmaine thought, how she saw the only home I’d ever known.

  I took her to the back staircase, not wanting to pass the destroyed doors of the main entrance to the citadel—or the hole in the hedge looming beyond it. When we passed through the exit nearest the dilapidated but still usable stables where the Paladin had put their gryphons, I finally ventured the question that had been hounding me ever since I’d seen Sharmaine and her gryphon burst through the glowing doorway in the Hall of Miracles with the others who had come to Vamala.

  “Why did you do it?” My voice was barely above a whisper, but I knew she heard me by the way she stiffened beside me. “What made you come here?”

  She had to have known what a risk it was to come to Vamala—where, as she knew, Paladin were feared, hunted, and murdered for what they were. Why, then, had she steered her gryphon toward the gateway and come?

  There was a heavy pause, as though she were weighing her words, or perhaps considering me—trying to decide what to confide and what to keep to herself. Though she had always treated me kindly and helped with my training, we’d never really spoken about anything of importance. It had been rash of me to ask such a personal question. Especially when I feared the answer had the power to shatter my heart: Raidyn.

  “I came because I had to,” she began slowly. “People I loved were in danger, and I am trained to protect those I love—or any innocent lives, for that matter.”

  People. Raidyn, yes, but not just him. I nodded like I understood her bravery, like I could possibly comprehend what must have gone through her mind in the moments it took between seeing Barloc burst through the gateway, attack them—including my grandmother—then leap back through it into Vamala, and her decision to follow after him. And not only her, so many others. At least seven or eight Paladin had come through, and possibly more that hadn’t come back yet, knowing they were likely risking their lives. Not only from Barloc’s stolen power, but because of the death trap they knew Vamala to be for their kind.

  We reached the door to the stables and Sharmaine pushed it open. It was shadowed inside, almost too dark to see.

  “We should have grabbed a lantern,” I commented.

  Instead of responding, Sharmaine lifted her hand. A split second later, her veins lit up with her power, until a small ball of light hovered above her fingers, illuminating the space around us. She glanced at me and smiled. “I think you know I can create a protective dome with my power,” she said before I could ask, and I nodded. “That’s what this is, only much smaller.”

  “That’s … remarkable.”

  She shrugged. “It’s a parlor trick. But it is useful
sometimes.”

  A parlor trick. Even though I knew I had power now, her casual disregard for something so wondrous to me stung. My father and Raidyn had seemed awed by the fact that I was an enhancer. But I’d never even be able to do a “parlor trick” with my power—I could only make someone else’s abilities stronger. It had saved my sister, and I knew I should be grateful for that … So why did I look at the light Sharmaine lifted as she walked toward the stalls where the Paladin had put the gryphons for the night and feel a pang deep inside?

  A soft hooting sound came from nearby, followed by other noises of gryphons moving and acknowledging our presence.

  “It’s all right, Keko girl, I’m here,” Sharmaine murmured as she stepped closer to the nearest stall.

  A gryphon with golden feathers lifted her head over the tall door and made another soft noise deep in her throat.

  “Is she yours?”

  Sharmaine nodded as she lowered the hand with the ball of light and lifted up on her tiptoes to press her forehead against Keko’s.

  I watched rider and gryphon silently. Keko closed her eyes and made a low noise deep in her throat. Sharmaine rubbed her hand down the gryphon’s neck a couple of times, then pulled back.

  “Sleep well,” she said with one last brush of her fingers over the gryphon’s beak.

  “What are we going to feed them?” I asked as we moved down the row, Sharmaine peeking in on each stall. I wondered which one Raidyn’s gryphon, Naiki, was in, or Taavi, my father’s. But none of the other gryphons pushed their heads out to greet her, as if they knew it wasn’t their Rider in the stable.

  “I doubt you have anything for them here … so we’ll have to take them out hunting. At least you live near these mountains. They should be able to find enough to eat without causing too much of a problem with the people of Vamala.”

  It was true, the mountains were uninhabited—with their sharp, unforgiving peaks, tangles of wild bushes, and trees clogging any possible path through them. I’d spent countless hours staring at them from my window. Trying to picture a flock of massive gryphons flying through them, hunting for dinner, was almost beyond the scope of my considerable imagination. If anyone in Gateskeep did notice them, who knew what they would think—or do. But that was a problem for tomorrow. We still had plenty to focus on for tonight.