Wings of Justice (City of Light Book 1) Read online

  "Do you . . . know . . . sleep . . . years?" he asked.

  "It feels like a long time. Many years," I whispered while he flipped through his book. He nodded once I spoke but didn't look up from the pages.

  "Do you have . . . hunger? Want food?" he read from the book and then looked at me afterward with an infectious smile.

  I didn't feel hungry, but I thought I might get them all to relax if I ate in front of them.

  "Yes," I said, and nodded.

  The girl in the back yelled something, and she made her way toward a pile of equipment twenty feet behind her. The old man barked disapprovingly at her, but she had already moved outside his reach. He glanced back to me as my eyes followed her. I moved my gaze to the man with the bow, Iarin. His arms were shaking from holding the arrow taut for so long. The woman Nadea also appeared tired from pointing the large crossbow at me.

  "Iarin and Nadea should lower their weapons. I mean no harm," I said to Paug. He flipped through his old book, but before he found the translation I made the shape of holding a bow with my arms and lowered it. He smiled and turned to tell Iarin, but the tall man had already lowered his weapon. Greykin made a sharp remark, but Iarin shrugged his shoulders and grinned back at me. Nadea replied to the axe man before lowering her own weapon. Jessmei walked past with a hunk of bread, yellow cheese, and a small piece of meat.

  She studied me intently as she walked up to Paug. Greykin yelled out something, causing the blonde girl to open her mouth wide and look at me in fear. She handed the food to Paug before fleeing back behind the safety of the large man.

  "Food . . . you," Paug said proudly, not needing to consult his book. He held out the bread, cheese, and meat to me, but he didn't move toward me.

  I leaned forward off the stone platform and pushed myself to my feet. As I stood, the euphoric energy of the stone ground coursed through me. My blood burned, awakened and on fire. A metallic sensation filled my mouth, and the cavern spun dramatically. The orange light faded to gray. Nadea yelled, and before my vision faded to black, I saw Paug's horrified facial expression enlarge and distort.

  Coolness rubbed against my face as my field of vision spread back from nothingness. I was lying on the stone platform bed. Nadea was applying a cool, wet cloth to my face and lips while Paug hovered on the other side of the dais and rested his palms on my chest.

  "You fall down," Paug said, without his book. He looked concerned that I had fainted, but also carried an excited smile on his round face.

  "Thirsty. Water," I said as I moved my hand up to touch the cloth Nadea held.

  "Yes!" Paug said. He disappeared from my field of vision, and I heard his booted feet rush to their pile of equipment.

  Nadea continued to caress my face with the cool rag. She whispered soft alien words I couldn't understand, but her relaxing movements helped me close my eyes and hear the familiar sounds of birds and water. A metal cup pushed against my lips and I sat up, with the aid of a few hands on my arms, and was able to drink. I opened my eyes and saw Paug's companions gathered around me, and I wondered why they were so interested in me drinking. The water burned down my throat like fire. It gave me power that felt like the stone on my feet. I startled, recalling another memory from before my dream. Laughter of friends, food, and water enjoyed with company. The sensation was wonderful.

  Paug's cherub face split into a grin when he saw me enjoying the water. It wasn't entirely the pleasure of my thirst being quenched that satisfied me. The water seemed to be magical and was pushing back my fatigue.

  "More please," I said, after I had drained the cup. Nadea sat next to me on the stone bed. She handed me a half-full water skin and I drank deeply. A bit of the water dribbled down my face onto my robe. Again I experienced the surge of fire burning inside me. I heard all of their hearts beating and the sound of the air leaving their lungs in the still silence of the mausoleum.

  My vision cut through the darkness now like a sharp sword. The crypt was spherical, about six hundred feet in diameter. The pedestal I had been resting upon was in the center of the room. Across the massive dome I made out a small tunnel carved into the wall. The ceiling of the dome was smooth, like the perfectly chiseled floor. It must not have been cut by hand. My guess was that the cavern had been created with powerful magic.

  "More?" Paug asked as I shook the empty skin. I nodded, and Nadea had a full one in my hands within seconds. I drank this as urgently as the first, and relished the strength that flowed through me.

  "Food?" Paug sat next to me now on the stone platform and handed me a chunk of bread. I carefully took it from him, pulled off a small piece, and put it in my mouth. The bread was hard, so I had to chew many times before swallowing. My audience breathlessly watched every bite, but didn't seem to be afraid of me anymore.

  "I am quite a source of entertainment, aren't I?" I said to Paug with a half-smile. He looked confused and then grabbed his book to attempt a translation. Greykin stood ten feet behind the boy, between Jessmei and me. He said something to Paug and the others erupted in laughter. Paug's face turned red with what I assumed was embarrassment. He said something in an apologetic tone before flipping through his book.

  "No . . . you need food. You are not strong," he said. I nodded and he turned to smirk in Greykin's direction.

  Within five minutes, the bread had been consumed and I tried a small bite of the cheese. It was so delicious that I had to force myself to eat slowly. The pangs of hunger ripped through my stomach now that I had eaten, and I wondered how much time had passed since food had last been in it. The meat was salted and bitter. Perhaps the beef was on its way to going bad, but I still enjoyed the complex flavor, even if each small bite forced me to drink a mouthful of water afterward.

  When I finished eating, exhaustion crashed into my body again. Meeting Paug and his friends had been a nice recess from the floating islands, but now I wanted to return. My ears missed the sounds of the waterfalls and the large white birds. My body missed the sensation of leaping through the blue sky.

  "I need to sleep again. I am tired," Paug nodded at first, but once he understood what I meant he shook his head.

  "No sleep. We . . . go," he said. I ignored him and slid my body behind him to curl up on the stone bed. My legs brushed up against Nadea's as she moved out of the way.

  "No. No. We go!" Paug said as the other voices began an angry retort. Their disappointment didn't matter though. The warm darkness began to close in on me. The stone felt familiar on the back of my skull, and the angry voices became like the murmuring of the distant ocean or the hum of a lover's satisfaction.

  There were no more floating islands, birds, or ships sailing through the air. Only seconds had passed before rough shakes on my arm awoke me. A moan of frustration left my mouth, and I winced against the throttle of consciousness. Why couldn't I go back to the islands?

  "Wake up, please. Many days have passed. We have to leave!" Paug pleaded. I opened my eyes and saw his worried face. The boy was obviously upset at my wish to sleep, so I pushed my tired body off of the cool stone. The group's pile of goods and equipment was gone and I wondered if I had dreamed the two beautiful women and the boy's other companions.

  "We must go!" The boy shook me again. His eyes were fearful and he almost screamed the words. Iarin was pacing behind him like a trapped animal.

  "I will come," I said, while preparing to stand. My hand brushed against something on the smooth stone. Very small writing was etched into the rock. Paug noticed the writing a second after I did and gasped.

  Kaiyer,

  You'll be angry for what we have done to you, but we had no choice. You forced our hand. I hope you can at least understand, if not forgive, our actions. In the end, you were the one who had everything and destroyed it. You were the one who betrayed us.

  I wish you weren't so headstrong and could have accepted the world you were about to create. I wish Thayer, Gorbanni, and Alexia hadn't pushed their agenda. I wish you would have chosen differently. P
erhaps your choice makes sense to me now that I know everything. I wish everyone could have told you instead of being afraid. We were always afraid of you. I wish you had seen that too. It is why we couldn't let you be.

  I wish I didn't love her as much as I did. I wish she had loved me as much as she loves you.

  I am sorry my friend. We will be dust by the time you read this, and you will be someone else's problem.

  Goodbye,

  Malek

  Memories washed through me again, and I had to push against the stone to keep from falling. My body felt so weak. Malek . . . I remembered him, at least some of him, standing with my back to his, as dark menacing shapes descended on us. His dark hair and mischievous smile. His face was young, but he had gray at the hair of his temples. He had been my friend, I was sure. I didn't understand any more of these words. Kaiyer? Was that me? I didn't remember my name.

  While my mind struggled to recall the past, Paug spread a thin piece of parchment over the inscription and frantically rubbed a small black rock over it. Once he imprinted the words, the boy folded the paper into quarters and stuffed it into the back of his book. My mind continued to search for something more from my past, but it was like trying to hold onto running water. I had the sensation of years of a life lived, but I could not grasp a single moment or solid memory long enough to recall anything of use.

  "We go. Now!" Paug yelled at me and pulled on my arm. The anxious pace of Iarin and the stress in Paug's voice convinced me that something was amiss. The tall archer looked back and forth between us and the entrance with obvious concern. His left hand clenched his long bow, but he didn't have an arrow nocked.

  I struggled to my feet and managed to stand feebly, like an old man. I might have tumbled over, but Paug let me lean on him. Unlike in the weightless islands, here my limbs convinced me that I must have been heavier than the massive stone slab on which I had been resting. I almost doubted that the young boy could assist me, but he did so without complaint. Fortunately, each step grew easier as the familiar power of the Earth flowed through my blood and added to my strength. Paug said something to Iarin, and the tall man moved to my side to help me walk faster.

  By the time we stumbled to the small portal leading from my mausoleum, I had recovered enough strength to stand on my own. Taking a deep breath, I gently pushed them away from me and attempted to walk with my own atrophied muscles. The first few steps were easier than I expected, although my joints creaked like a dead tree in the wind and my head spun.

  The exit turned into a tunnel that climbed upward at a medium grade. Iarin took the lead, with me in the middle and Paug behind. The walls started off cut from smooth stone, like the inside of the mausoleum, but gave way to dirt and rough black rock as we ascended.

  "Halfway . . . top," Paug said behind me. He sounded out of breath from the exertion caused by the slope of the tunnel. Iarin was almost running and I wasn't having problems keeping up with him. My body still felt weak, but it was quickly regenerating. The exercise was enjoyable, and my body took pleasure inhaling deep breaths while my mind enjoyed the task of placing my feet on the rocky bottom of the dark tunnel.

  After another few minutes of jogging, the dirt and stone walls turned into mud and smooth, slippery rocks. As we progressed upward to the surface, a small trickle of water began to carve into the middle of the shaft. The liquid fed glowing green moss that lit the path wondrously, but the tiny creek also made the footing treacherous with slippery slime. The air grew warm and my senses were overwhelmed by the scented plants and dampness of the surface. A few quick bugs darted from underneath my feet before I stepped on them, and I amused myself by studying their frantic movements.

  Finally, we emerged from the tunnel and into a densely wooded forest. The trees were tropical, with large leaves pooling the dampness from the air like hands, and pouring the moisture as a soft rain onto the ground. The scents, noises, and light disoriented me after the journey through the dark tunnel. It was more a surprise of contrast, since even the tropical forest, with its green ceilings and singing birds, paled in comparison to the vivid dreams of the floating islands. This new world was very beautiful, intense shafts of light filtered through the thick canopy. The beams of sun accented the dancing purple butterflies and the small lizards hunting them.

  The rest of Paug's companions had their backs to us. They held their hands up in a defensive position, as if they were surrendering. When Iarin cleared from my field of vision I saw that they had reason to surrender. Spread out in a half-circle fifty yards away, crossbows leveled at us, stood eight men.

  The men appeared to be soldiers, dressed in cream-colored leather armor, with yellow sashes around their shoulders. Each wore a metal helmet that came up to a sharp dome, decorated with plumes of green feathers on the back rim. Their yellow sashes were embroidered with different insignia designs indicating rank.

  Their leader said something, but none of my companions answered him. He said the sentence again with a bit more anger, and Iarin answered as he put down his bow and raised his hands. The leader of the armed men glared at me and said more demanding words I didn't comprehend, but I guessed he wanted me to raise my hands, so I did. He sneered at me in disbelief before issuing the same unknown command again.

  Paug gave him a fearful response, and the leader of our captors yelled back at him. Paug grimaced at me and kneeled down into the muddy dirt. He deliberately raised his hands and tucked them behind his head once he had reached the ground, and all of my other companions repeated the same series of movements. I looked over to Nadea. Her expression was grim and she didn't make eye contact with me. Jessmei appeared terrified as the pool of mud seeped into her leggings. Greykin's face was a mask of disappointment. His eyes met mine, and although I didn't speak his language, I knew from his posture that these men intended to kill us.

  The leader yelled at me again. I glared at him coldly. If I was going to die, it wouldn’t be without a fight. I was weak, but guessed I might be able to kill a few of them if I got lucky. Of course, having eight crossbows pointed at me meant I needed more than just fortune on my side. My brain sprinted into action and began puzzling ways to kill the soldiers before me.

  The leader spat another command at me. He had a thick mustache, and his front tooth was crumbling with decay. His face turned a bright vermillion at my inability to follow his directions, so he handed his crossbow to the man on his right and lumbered toward me. The lackey fumbled with the two crossbows, and for a few precious seconds only six of them were a threat.

  As the commander walked down to me across the muddy, mossy terrain, I examined the long sword and dagger on his left hip. Neither blade appeared to be tied in its sheath. It was another bit of luck in my favor, and the refined observation convinced me that I must have been very familiar with the violence about to be inflicted.

  "Sit down!" Paug whispered to me as urgently as he dared, without suffering the enemy commander's wrath. I ignored the boy's words and tried to look confused.

  The rotten-toothed leader was a little shorter than me, but he pushed his face up, nose-to-nose, so there was no escaping his vile breath. Then he expectorated the same command he had been repeating before. Despite the stench, I smiled to myself when I realized he was probably yelling, “Get on the ground.” I was starting to learn this language. The smile didn't impress the commander. He screamed the command again and wound his right hand back like a whip to deliver a backhanded blow with his leather-clad fist.

  That was his last mistake.

  My right hand came up and checked the back of his elbow so he couldn't move his arm to strike me. My left hand reached across his body and pulled the dagger from its sheath on his waist. As I drew the weapon, I turned its point inward, cutting past the leather of his armor, the silk cloth underneath, and into his soft belly. The blade was sharp, and it sliced the inside of his stomach open in a long red streak.

  The dagger spun sideways as it left my hand in a throw, spinning drops of crimson blo
od lazily on its fifty-yard journey, before embedding itself into the soldier's neck on the far left. The man choked out a panicked gurgle from the impact of the dagger, and reached up with his left hand toward the hilt coming out of his jugular. I guessed that it would take him a minute to die, but in the meantime he might not be able to aim his crossbow at Paug and his friends.

  My left hand returned to the waist of the commander. I took a fistful of belt, armor, and cloth, while the blood from his stomach wound began to gush over my clenched fingers. I lifted with both of my arms and pulled the commander's body off the ground. He somehow seemed lighter than a feather, but would serve my purpose.

  I charged the other men with their leader’s body shielding me.

  One arbalist to the right took a shot when his commander began to scream in wet horror. The bolt went wide over my head. As I took three more steps, a second weapon twanged, sinking a quarrel into the back of the commander and choking off his cry.

  Four more steps and I had made it to the left of the semicircle. A few more bolts whispered past my head as the soldiers tried to kill me without injuring their commander. They should not have bothered trying to spare him. He would die when I finished with them.

  The left most soldier tried to draw his sword. His palm had hardly brushed the hilt when I pushed my pointer and middle fingers together and drove them through his eyeball and into his brain. He had a dagger, but to draw and throw the weapon I would have to spin around the body of their commander, temporarily exposing myself to potential crossbow quarrels. These men seemed inept, so I decided to gamble and drew the long dagger out of the dying man's belt before tossing it.

  The dagger left my hand at a poor angle, but it somehow corrected itself in midflight like a sparrow and took the final arbalist in the shoulder. The blade sunk into his armor as if it were made of cloth. My target had not expected the toss or the pain in his crossbow-bearing arm. Surprise caused him to pull the trigger and launch the bolt accidentally toward my new companions. I couldn't spare a glance in their direction, but I didn't hear a scream, so I guessed the quarry had not found a living target.