31
Kora
Aerion guided Kora over to the glistening sea of weapons and shields spanning the far wall of the arena below the viewing deck above.
She frowned at the weapons attached to the wall, some of them ten feet above her head.
A mix of swords, daggers, maces, and axes, including many she didn’t recognise.
To the left was an abundance of variously shaped shields, the steel so refined, shining like clear-cut water.
She reined in her usual scoff when presented with a shield.
Shields were hardly used in the empire, only as a precaution to prevent arrow fire, but when in the face of a ship’s cannon, a shield was as useful as parchment.
“Those daggers aren’t working for you.” Aerion gestured to the simple weapons attached to her thighs. Apparently, back scabbards weren’t a thing here. They upset the balance of wind.
“My last ones had been crafted for me.” Kora brushed the metal absentmindedly. “Aryn gave these to me as a replacement.” It’d unnerved her at how familiar he was with Windspire, where to go, where to find things. This had been his home for gods-knew-how long.
Silver curls bounced around Aerion’s forehead as his head shook. His brown skin had deepened recently, a subtle glow emanating from him which reached his eyes whenever Aryn was mentioned. Interesting.
“Aryn doesn’t know much outside of archery.
He’s quick and great in a close-range fight, but he can’t tell the difference between a rapier and a seax.
Not to mention, those won’t do anything for you when your magic is restored.
” Aerion fluttered his tattooed fingers, and a single blade floated down from the top of the rack.
Kora held out her hand, her mouth parting as a familiar dagger landed in her palm.
The sharp edge glinted despite the Mist blanketing the sunset—had it thinned recently?
Each day that passed, the sun seemed brighter.
Kora traced those swirling patterns she recognised across the chrome hilt.
A singular archaic symbol drew her attention in the star-shaped pommel.
A shape she’d seen before, when her talisman had fully transformed. An eight-pointed star, banded together by a welded ring embedded with pearls, leading to the symbol dazzling in its centre.
“I’ve seen this before,” Kora whispered. “In a chest aboard Demon Sea Siren. I thought it’d been a bribe to the pirates. How is it here?”
“Before the Mist, we’d arranged a chest of weapons to be shipped to the witches.
An offering of an alliance in the face of war, with some of our most treasured things, one of which was the sister to your prized dagger.
I assume James held onto it, until his death.
Did you know all the pirates had been trapped on the outside of the Mist?
They were sailing to Shannara at the time it happened.
Like some sick cosmic timing. Despite the witches’ treaty with the Talmon Empire, we knew the empire would eventually betray them.
Whether the Stagharts would decide to thwart them after all, or Barron would arise again, and enact the very violence he’s thriving in now. ”
Aerion paused, his eyes glazing temporarily as he peered at the Mist through the windows.
“We couldn’t leave this island. For ten years, we couldn’t leave.
When the Mist appeared, a rift had been created between our dysfunctional family.
You, Aryn, and the pirates were all on the outside.
The rest of us . . . we were stuck in here.
It’d been so dark, K. So cold. You have no idea what we’ve done to survive.
Then one day, Hector, Cassidy, and Leto appeared like a patchwork miracle in the thick of the Mist. Saying they’d finally encountered the infamous pirate-hunter, and that James was . . .”
Kora’s head dipped, vividly remembering the events of Demon Sea Siren chasing her through the archipelago by Peril Cove.
Everything had unwound since that day. Since Raiden had lured her to the Mist. Her gut twisted.
Had Cannon’s ship missed her on purpose?
Had he been trying to save her? She bit her bottom lip.
He’d spoken of taking her away, that her life hadn’t meant to be like this.
By the fucking gods.
Had Cannon planned to bring her here?
“We received reports of the outside world for the first time, from the pirate lords, and we started preparing for the day we could finally leave, and then . . .” Aerion stopped short, a small furrow consuming his brow before smoothing out.
“And then what?” Kora pressed.
“Doesn’t matter now,” Aerion sighed dramatically, before smiling. “What matters is you getting back to your full strength. We have a world to save.”
“So, this was mine?” Kora turned the blade in her hands over, scanning the fascinating patterns.
Aerion nodded. “Just like you prefer now, you previously wielded two daggers. Funny how that stayed the same.”
Kora couldn’t laugh with Aerion, not while Kordelia’s laugh cackled behind her ears.
How ingenuine. Copying your shadow.
“Interesting how the sister blade came across your path, almost as if fate intended it.”
“It wasn’t fate. It was Death that brought us together.”
Aerion blinked, his wise stare raking Kora in, as if he suddenly saw her for the first time.
Her neck cricked, using the twinge to release the dark tension simmering within.
Aerion raised his hand, and another two weapons floated down from the very top.
Two perfect rings, with sharp edges and a handle through each centre for Aerion to hold.
The metal was sleek and thin, with a singular symbol etched repeatedly into the circle. Aerion rolled his shoulders and flicked his wrists and the symbols flared, a small, white glow sparkling from each individual one. “Follow me.”
Kora stepped into the nearest ring with Aerion, her body thrumming with anticipation.
She’d never seen Aerion in a fight. She’d barely noticed him at Mossfell Castle, her entire attention had been pinned on Raiden, Erick and Agatha.
Even on the ship before Barron had taken her, Aerion had had no weapons on him, and wielded his power with the smallest flick of his finger.
“These are called chakrams.” Aerion cut his weapons through the air, and Kora watched with fascination as he moved with them, flowing around the space with ease. “They’re designed to be wind resistant, and as you can see, are dangerous from all sides around my hands.”
Kora palmed the new dagger, twirling it around as Aerion wove closer. He raised a brow and dropped down into a defensive stance. “Let’s see if you can get past them.”
She didn’t wait. Like a viper, Kora pounced, the perfection of this new blade arching effortlessly. Aerion deflected her with a grunt and she cringed, leaning back as the curve of the chakrams nearly caught her chest. Shit.
“Careful, K. These babies can slice through armour.” Aerion winked, and didn’t give Kora a moment as a blast of wind propelled him over her head. The chakrams came at her, a spinning blade of death, and Kora slammed into the floor, her back smarting as her dagger clattered to the side.
“Aerion!” Raiden’s yell carried on the winds, but Kora ignored it as she rolled, unsheathing her replacement daggers. Her lungs already burned, her muscles still weak from sparring with Aryn.
“I can’t use my magic yet,” Kora warned, sweat still dripping from her. Her energy sapped from her bones as she placed one foot in front of the other.
“Then don’t hold back.” Aerion nodded approvingly and Kora summoned the last scraps of her strength. She threw one dagger with precision, and as Aerion deflected it with his chakram, she slid across the ring, her knees burning as she collected the star dagger.
Distant footsteps pounded as she spun and raised the blade at Aerion.
Something pulsed within, her water beast clawing up her back, hooking its claws into her chest, cracking it open with force.
Kora gasped as the star-like pommel bloomed with blue light, similar to the talisman.
Aerion grinned and she charged, leaping into the air with surprising force and her shining weapon soared down.
“Stop! You’re not ready!”
Raiden’s cry through her mind faded away as Aerion’s now shining chakrams met her blade. It bounced off an invisible force and Kora fell back onto her elbows, vibrating from the impact. Her dagger still shone, her palm pulsating in time with her heartbeat, and she stared at it in awe.
“That, sweet K, is called a rune.”
“What . . . what’s happening?” Kora shook as her power flowed into the blade, and her heart quickened as flashes of Bree stealing her gift tumbled through her mind.
Aerion rotated his chakrams once again, pointing to the barely visible current of power surrounding them. “Runed weapons can channel our magic. Sometimes they create extensions, like how my wind is presenting as a shield, or they can infuse the weapon, making it indestructible.”
“Aerion!” Raiden appeared, his temper leaking into the atmosphere. “She’s not ready yet.”
Kora stood, holding the dagger out in front of her. It didn’t look any different, aside from the glowing star. “Can you infuse weapons without runes?”
Both Aerion and Raiden glanced at her, confusion mirrored on their faces.
“That day on the ship, I’d used my power around swords, created my own shield. I can create weapons from water.” Kora searched within to see whether her well of power was strong enough yet to demonstrate. Despite her water beast eager to play, she felt drained.
Raiden rubbed his chin. “I remember. You never did that before. It may be that your power has manifested in a different way this time. Just like how all our wind powers are different. But where you added water to the weapons, doesn’t mean they’re infused or channelled. You just . . . added to it.”