Sky of Wind by Emily Deady

Chapter 7

Meena placed a protective hand over the small wooden chest under her arm. She peered into the courtyard, keeping the chest hidden behind the door. Celesta was nowhere in sight.

A small crowd, however, gathered around the outer gate. Standing next to King Frederich, Onric addressed four of the regular guards.

Aizel was at one side of the group, but she was watching a carpenter reinforce the gate.

Meena waited behind the door. This gathering looked serious, and she wanted to avoid it. It wasn’t the seriousness of it that she wanted to avoid, of course, but because her own plan was frivolous and she did not want anyone to judge her.

“Yes,” Onric appeared to be answering a guard’s question. “Her magic will only be applied to items which bolster the castle’s defense. It will have no effect on you, or any other person at all.”

Two of the men shuffled their feet uncomfortably.

Meena hid a little further behind the door. She was glad her father had accepted Aizel’s help, but she couldn’t blame the men for being wary.

Aizel looked small, standing with her arms crossed, a step away from the rest of the group.

“How can a nail be a better nail?” one of the guards asked, directing his question over Aizel to Onric and the king.

Onric appeared to have no answer to that question and looked to his father.

“A nail only has one function. It’s just got to go into the wood,” another guard asked over the silence. “How do we know it won’t be dangerous?”

“Yeah,” a third one spoke up, emboldened by his peers. His glance strayed to Aizel, animosity in his eyes.

Aizel leaned her shoulder’s back, but kept her feet in place.

Meena straightened her neck. Discomfort could be tolerated, stupidity could not.

Dropping the wooden chest to the floor, she walked into the courtyard, striding confidently toward the group. Onric stepped aside, catching her eye as she joined the circle. She did not stop walking, however, and the guards separated so she could approach the gate behind them.

“A nail has two functions,” she said loudly. “To go into the wood and not come out.” She emphasized the final few words as she tugged at a particularly loose nail on the gate. It slid out of its place into her hand. She turned around to face the quiet group of men behind her. “A nail can always be a better nail.”

“Thank you, Philomena,” King Frederich said. His voice carrying neither censure nor praise.

Onric smirked at her before addressing the rest of the men. “Aizel’s harmony magic does not pose a threat to any of us here. We are grateful for her aid.”

“Yes, captain,” one of the soldiers replied.

They seemed somewhat subdued.

Though the air had previously been calm, a strong gust of wind blew forcefully through the courtyard, whipping Meena’s hair around her face.

Meena spun around to shake her face free of the tangles of hair which blocked her vision.

The wind calmed.

Feeling that her input was no longer necessary, Meena walked back through the group of men, giving Aizel a quick smile as she passed. She entered the door to the old ruins and closed it behind her.

Meena knew nearly everyone who lived or worked at the palace. They were good, trustworthy people. People she enjoyed conversing with and being surrounded by. The only reason the soldiers were confident enough to question Onric was because King Frederich tolerated and encouraged them to be equals, not underlings.

She hated to see the distrust growing uneasy tension driving a wedge between her community.

She breathed in deeply, stretching her arms to ease the uncomfortable feeling in her chest. The motion made her arm feel empty.

She’d left the chest on the other side of the courtyard.

Stepping back outside, she noticed that the group had dispersed, leaving only the usual gate guard. She gave him a light nod and moved firmly toward the door opposite her. She had no desire to stop and chat with the likely still disgruntled guard.

But she had barely taken a few steps into the courtyard when the wind picked up once again. One moment, the air was calm. The next moment, Meena could hardly breathe as air sped around her, whipping her already tousled hair into another frenzy.

She spun in a circle, trying to wrangle her hair back into place so she could see again.

The wind calmed. She was facing the door to the ruins again. She’d never experienced wind quite like that before. Any other time, she would have taken a moment to play in it. But now it did not feel right.

With the air calm once again, she turned back to the palace to continue on her original errand. But as soon as her feet began to move, the wind picked up.

“I knew I should have taken the time to braid my hair this morning,” Meena grumbled to herself as she swung her head upside down and twisted the flying curls into a tight knot around her hand.

But the wind didn’t let up as she walked. She blinked her eyes. They were beginning to water from the air snapping swiftly across her face. She dropped her head again, this time to protect her eyes.

Hunched over in the wind, blinded by tears, and with her hand still holding her long hair as closely as possible to her scalp, she couldn’t help but laugh at herself. “This is so not worth it.” She ran against the wind as best she could, grabbed the wooden chest behind the door to the palace, and dashed back into the frenzied greenreign weather.

At least on her return trip, the wind pushed at her back, speeding her along.

Back inside the relative safety of the old stone ruins, she managed to shoulder the door closed behind her.

Setting the chest down once again, she used both hands to attempt untwisting her tangled hair and shaking it free.

The strong wind shook the wooden door behind her, but the walls of the hall around her kept her safe from its capricious whims. The old hall she stood in had a rounded ceiling, which had likely been very sophisticated for its time, but felt ominously low as Meena picked her way across the room.

Random piles of wood and broken furniture lined the walls. Meena skirted around them, remembering how she used to dig through them for treasure. At the moment, she was slightly more worried about disturbing the rodents or snakes, which had decided to inhabit the old furniture. Fortunately, she’d never been concerned about that as a child.

Lifting her chin a little higher, she clenched her skirt in her hands. “I’m not afraid of snakes,” she murmured, aware that she was attempting to convince herself.

The back of the large hall spread out into various passageways and smaller rooms. Meena’s favorite was a trapdoor that led from the main hall to an underground tunnel, which led to a secluded place in the forest. It had likely been created to allow the inhabitants of the castle to escape during a siege. It felt a little riskier than the other places she had taken Celesta, but her father had frequently had the tunnel maintained and checked so that his own children would be safe playing in it.

And it was the perfect spot to hide a treasure. She’d already drawn out a simple map that led from the palace bedrooms to the tunnel.

As she opened the hidden door along one wall, a gentle breeze once again began teasing her hair. Perhaps the walls were not as wind–safe as she’d assumed. At least this time, it wasn’t impeding her vision. Brushing her hair over her shoulder out of habit, she looked down into the darkness of the tunnel. Her fingers and toes tingled with excitement.

She might be afraid of snakes, but she was not afraid of tunnels or treasure hunts.

Picking up an oil lamp and flint from a small alcove near the door, she struck a flame and descended into the old familiar tunnel. After a short staircase, the tunnel took a sharp turn, blocking the light from the door at the top of the stairs behind her.

The flame of the lamp shed a soft light on the walls around her, though it flickered softly as though someone was blowing on it. Meena cupped her hand around the flame to protect it. Turning a knob on the lamp, Meena increased the length of the wick to strengthen the flame.

She lightly ran the fingers of her left hand on the dusty wall to her side as she lowered the lantern so as not to blind her eyes. Currents of air continued to rustle through her hair, whispering her along. The air pushing at her back was warm, replacing the chill in the tunnel with its fresh scent.

The tunnel itself was wide enough for multiple people to walk in comfortably at once. Likely another feature designed specifically to make it a safe escape route. Despite how long it had been since she had visited the tunnel, Meena was proud that she still remembered every twist and turn. Even without the lantern, she could have made it safely through, though she was glad to have the light.

Meena kept her eyes on the floor, looking for a place to hide the treasure chest. Perhaps leaving it closer to the door would be the best plan, especially if Celesta found the tunnel frightening. Meena had a feeling her young friend was as adventurous as she was.

Holding the chest tucked under her arm, she continued down the tunnel rather than turn back immediately. There was one more staircase carved into the stone ground under the castle cellars, which led to the deepest part of the tunnel itself, and she wanted to see it before she hid the treasure. If Onric and Erich were with her, they could go all the way to the end of the tunnel and pry open the far door into the forest. But it was likely overgrown and would be too difficult to force open on her own. Since her brothers were consumed with preparing the castle defenses, she did not think they would approve of opening the tunnel which led directly into the heart of the castle. That didn’t sound like an upgrade in defense.

Surprisingly, the rustling breeze grew stronger as she descended the lower staircase. In fact, she had never felt air flow this far into the tunnel. She distinctly remembered how stagnant the deepest area felt, as though this place was frozen in time forever. The tingling in her hands and feet wormed its way into her stomach. Perhaps it was not a good idea to come down here alone. Especially without telling anyone she was doing so.

Meena turned around, deciding she had gone far enough. She had hardly taken two steps back up the tunnel before the wind suddenly picked up, howling through the tunnel. It whipped around her hair and instantly blew out the small flame of the lamp. With a gasp, Meena threw her back against the wall, holding up the now dead lamp as though its power could still ward off the darkness.

As her heart pounded in her ears, Meena reminded herself that she knew this tunnel inside and out, she could find her way to the top very quickly and easily. She would do so in just a moment, after she caught her breath. Her feet seemed quite unwilling to move. Her heart sounded loudly in her own ears.

With a brave inhale, she pushed herself off the wall and leaned forward to move back up the tunnel. She nodded reassuringly as the sound of her footstep lightly crunched across the soft dirt below her. But her bravery disappeared and her knees threatened to crumble beneath her.

Her feet were still glued to the floor, and she hadn’t moved them.

Someone else had made the footstep.

Someone else was here with her.

Meena froze, listening as the footsteps grew closer. They were firm, but wary. Their owner moving very slowly to the tunnel. Toward her.

Meena didn’t dare to breathe. She was deep enough in that there was no light at all. It was completely black. Perhaps it was just a servant and whoever it was would walk right past her. She closed her eyes. Trying not to remind herself that if it was a servant, they would be carrying a lamp. Except that maybe their lamp had gotten blown out in the wind as well. She inhaled shakily, should she call out?

Of course she should call out. No one knew this tunnel existed. King Gareth wouldn’t know to send a surprise attack at them through the tunnel.

The footsteps stopped. The intruder—or servant—was standing right next to her. And if they stopped exactly at that spot, they clearly knew she was there. As silently as possible, Meena reached into her pocket, searching for anything that she could use as a weapon.

“Aizel?” a deep voice whispered, as a small flash of light suddenly formed in front of her.

Meena’s heart stopped in her throat. The stranger was doing magic. The last time Meena had seen someone holding a ball of light, her brother Aden had been cursed and turned into a beast. Through sheer strength of will, Meena refused to give in to her weakened knees. Whatever was about to happen, she would take it standing. At least that’s what her mind was saying. Her eyes were blinking against the new light source. And her mouth was already open. “Aizel?” she asked. “How do you know Aizel?”

The stranger leaped backward, holding his glowing orb in front of him as though it were a weapon as well as a light source. He was young. Much younger than the councilor who’d cursed Aden. He could be as young as one of her brothers. But his dark eyes, lit from below by the orb between them, looked tired and wary.

“Who are you?” He asked, his voice low and rough.

Her mind told her to scream for help, or to hide her identity, or to refuse to answer him at all. But apparently, her mouth still wasn’t listening. “Who am I? Who are you and what are you doing in my castle?”

“How did you find me here?” he said, stepping forward. He was considerably taller than she was, and she had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes.

“How did I find you here? Again, this is my castle,” Meena said, straightening her spine to stand as tall as she could. Her mind screamed at her to stop aggravating the angry Majis.

“Where’s Aizel?” He leaned toward her, still holding his orb of light between them menacingly.

“Will you stop answering questions with questions?” Meena spat back.

“This was not part of the plan.” The man leaned back, removing himself from Meena’s direct space. His eyes darted quickly to the left and right of the dark tunnel.

Meena took a moment to take him in from head to toe as well. His brown hair was lighter than her own, and it was glowing a bit in the soft light. His face was hard, wary, and defensive. He was tall like her brothers, but his broad shoulders and wide stance definitely made him larger. He was tense, every muscle in his body prepared for action.

Her heart thudded in her chest. She was frightened, but not scared. She knew it didn’t make sense, so she focused on things she could understand.

Like the color of his eyes, which was somewhere between gray and green. She thought she even saw some flecks of gold in his iris, but that was probably her imagination in the flickering light.

She did not have time to imagine things. She had to get herself safely out of here.

If it was still dark, she was sure she could beat him out of the tunnel. He was clearly new here, and she had the advantage of knowing the space. Unfortunately, he controlled the source of light and she didn’t know how to extinguish it.

“I can’t leave you down here,” he muttered to himself. “You’ve already seen me. But I don’t suppose killing you would help further the plan either.”

“That definitely would not further the plan.” Meena’s voice was high, and she shook her head. “I would prefer not to be killed.”

“I would prefer not to kill anyone.” His eyes scanned her from head to toe. It seemed that his eyes never stopped moving, as though he was always in full awareness of his surroundings. “But it’s a little too late for that.”

Meena continued shaking her head. “It doesn’t have to be too late.”

“No,” the man used his orb to gesture toward Meena.

Her instincts wanted to flinch but she inhaled sharply to cover her own movement, hoping he hadn’t seen her fear.

“I didn’t mean right here in this situation,” he continued. “I was talking about the state of things as a whole.” His hands, still holding the orb, made a small arc at eye level to emphasize his words.

The arcing motion reminded Meena of the way Celesta said her name with her hands. And that reminded her that this man was looking for Aizel. “Are you from Istroya? Your green eyes remind me of . . .” Meena snapped her mouth shut.

This Majis was likely sent from Gareth to assassinate Aizel, so Meena knew she shouldn’t reveal anything about her friend to the intruder. It seemed most everyone wanted to kill Aizel, simply because she was Majis. Except this man here was a magic-wielder as well. Shouldn’t that mean he would be Aizel’s ally instead of enemy? Meena reined in her racing thoughts, knowing she had said too much already.

“You do know too much already,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “What do my green eyes remind you of?”

“They’ll be looking for me in a moment,” Meena replied, as confidently as she could. “They sent me to grab some items, which shouldn’t have taken long, so they’ll miss me.” Her confidence wavered as she realized she was trying to convince herself, not him.

“They sent you to grab items from this tunnel?” His eyes darted up and down the empty tunnel again, which was completely bare of anything except dirt and dust.

Meena almost rolled her eyes. If it was one of her brothers, they would tease her mercilessly about such a useless excuse. The stranger seemed to have actually believed her.

“It was less to grab and more to put,” she said. The longer she talked, the more time she would have to come up with an escape plan. She lifted her shoulder, showing off the small chest under her arm. “I was going to place this further up the tunnel, but the wind called me further in . . . I mean, they are looking for me.”

“The wind?” He was peering at her again, quite intently.

“Forget it.” Why had she mentioned the stupid wind?

“The wind called to you?”

“Do you ever stop asking questions?” Meena asked.

“What did it say?” he asked another question.

If it wasn’t for the serious tone of his voice, Meena would have thought he was making fun of her. Before she could respond, she heard another set of footsteps. This time they were coming from the entrance on her side. She exhaled in relief. Whoever it was would be from the castle. Maybe someone had seen her descend into the tunnel, or happened upon the open door in the hall and had come down to investigate.

Pushing herself off the wall, she repositioned her weight so she could break into a sprint—away from the intruder. “I told you they were looking for me.”

But the stranger was no longer paying attention to her. He immediately extinguished the light in his hand.

More than willing to take her chance in the dark, Meena dashed forward. Before she had taken a single step, a firm hand caught her wrist, holding her in place.

“I need you.” His quiet whisper sounded like barely more than a scratch in the dark.

“I doubt that,” Meena whispered back. Then, realizing she was not the one in hiding, she opened her mouth. “I’m here!” she yelled.

The hand on her wrists tightened, pulling her backward. “You said they know you’re here.” His voice was both confused and ironic.

“And there’s a strange Majis with me!” she yelled.

A light glowed in the far distance, and Meena twisted her wrist, straining forward.

The footsteps increased in pace, and Aizel dashed around the corner. A magical orb of light glowed between her two hands.

As soon as he saw her, the stranger stepped forward, keeping his grip on Meena’s wrist and pushing her to his side.

“Watch out!” Meena yelled to her friend. “I don’t know if he’s dangerous.” She stopped trying to escape, and instead leaned against the stranger, trying to use her weight as a shield for her friend.

“Sol?” Aizel slid to a stop, looking between Meena and the intruder.

“Aizel?” Sol pushed forward, easily sidestepping Meena’s attempt to hold him back.

“Let her go,” Aizel commanded. “And what are you doing here? How did you get here?”

“I don’t know her,” Sol responded, his grip still tight on Meena’s wrist.

“I do. She’s a friend. Let her go.”

Sol’s grip loosened slightly. “She’s Quotidian.”

“She’s a princess.” Aizel stepped forward.

Meena shrank back from the power in her friend’s voice.

Sol’s grip tightened again, and he twisted Meena around to face him.

She yanked at her wrist, using her other hand to try and pry his fingers from her.

“Is her family holding you here against her will?”

“No,” Aizel stepped forward, releasing the orb into the air where it floated on its own in the tunnel. She threw her arm around Meena’s shoulder and pushed Sol away. “But you are holding her against her will. And mine.”

“Alright.” Sol dropped Meena’s wrist and stepped back.

Meena rubbed her wrist and leaned into Aizel’s comforting hug. “Do you know him?” she asked.

“He’s from my village in Istroya,” Aizel explained. “He’s not as good at pearl diving as I am.”

“You’re alive,” Sol said to Aizel. “We thought they’d taken you.”

“No. I escaped. On my own. To save Celesta. It kind of backfired, but she’s safe now.” Aizel loosened her hold on Meena and threw her arms around Sol’s chest. “It’s so good to see someone from home.”

Sol returned her hug, leaning his head over hers protectively.

Meena crossed her arms as she watched their reunion. She was not mad at Aizel for leaving her side and embracing the intruder. Not at all.

“Why are you here?” Aizel stood back, looking up at Sol’s face. “And how?”

“I got myself chosen. And then escaped once we’d crossed the sea.”

“Did you come for me?” Aizel asked. “But you thought I was dead?”

Sol put his hands on Aizel’s shoulders. “I would have if I’d known you were alive, but it appears you’ve done fine without me.” His eyes flicked to Meena.

“You got yourself chosen?” Aizel’s voice was louder than Meena had ever heard it. “Intentionally?”

“Chosen?” Meena asked, trying to follow along and not feel left out.

“Chosen by the Quotidian to fuel their magic reserves,” Aizel explained, still looking at Sol.

“That doesn’t sound good . . .” Meena replied.

“It’s not,” Aizel said. “What was your plan if you hadn’t escaped?” Aizel directed this question to Sol. “You would be stuck in some castle dungeon in Chendas, living a life worse than death? Powering gems through your pain?”

“That wasn’t going to happen,” Sol replied. “I knew what I was doing. It was a risk I needed to take.”

Aizel stepped back, crossing her arms as she looked up at Sol. She remained silent, but her fixed attention on Sol seemed to indicate she still expected an answer.

Sol glanced at Meena again.

“She can be trusted,” Aizel answered his unspoken question.

“How much does she know?”

“Everything,” Aizel said. “Except for what you haven’t told me.”

Sol returned his gaze to Aizel, breathing slowly before he finally answered. “I’m on a mission for the Thorn.”

Aizel finally turned away from Sol. “His father led a rebellion group called River’s Thorn,” she explained. “But he was found out and taken when I was Celesta’s age. River’s Thorn disbanded after he was sent to the shipyard . . .” Aizel paused, staring at Sol.

He said nothing, but dropped his eyes to the ground.

“It never disbanded. You’ve been leading the resistance this entire time?” Aizel’s arms were crossed.

Meena shrank back, glad she was not the recipient of Aizel’s glare.

“And you never thought to tell me? I aided you. I frequently gave you pearls so you wouldn’t have to work extra shifts even if it meant coming below count on mine, so I had to sacrifice my break day. You didn’t think you could trust me after all that?”

Sol looked down, some remorse seeming to have gotten through to him. “He wasn’t sent to the shipyard.” His words were low and Meena had to lean forward to catch them.

Aizel opened her eyes a little wider. She said nothing as she waited for him to elaborate.

“He was taken.” Sol looked back up at Aizel, his face clearly pained, but not in a look of remorse. “It was too dangerous to involve anyone else.”

“I’m so sorry.” Aizel stepped forward to place a hand on Sol’s arm for a moment. Then her hands went back to her hips. “I still don’t forgive you for keeping this to yourself and not trusting me.”

“Thanks for the pearls over all the years,” Sol responded, talking over her. “I wasn’t a bad diver, I just often spent my time under, communicating with other members of the Thorn, or with Lady Robin.”

A small jabbing pain under her arm reminded Meena she was still holding the wooden chest. “Shall we take him up to the palace?” she offered.

Sol looked over at her again. “Will your king stand in the way of my mission?”

Though she was surprised by his bluntness, Meena responded as honestly as she could. “I cannot promise he will aid you, but I can promise he will not stand in your way.”

Sol dipped his head once in acknowledgment.

Deciding to hide the chest somewhere else, Meena carried it with her out of the tunnel. Not that she was scared of returning, she’d just had enough adventure in closed, dark spaces.