Koriann sat tailor-fashion in the dark tower, focusing within. Michio had slept for several hours, but she was wide awake. Her memories were starting to return and her mind was becoming sharper as she organized the images.
She couldn’t remember the journey to Kumba or being lifted off the ledge by a tawku, but she did remember her years of training with Leyran and Embrosa. They taught her how to defend herself from black magic. With new determination, she visualized herself in a bubble of Light, then she imagined using a pair of scissors to cut away the black strands with which General Bhandar bound her. As she snipped them away, she felt a renewed sense of freedom.
The cry of a tawku pierced the silent night air. Koriann recoiled in alarm, breaking into a sweat. Outside a window, a large, winged form soared across one of Borko’s moons, then flew straight toward the tower.
Kree-eee-ar, rang out again ─ louder and closer this time. The sound of beating wings and the smell of rotting flesh filled the tower, then the tawku peered in the window. Koriann stared back, transfixed.
Michio touched her arm and said, “Don’t look at it.”
Startled, she tore her eyes away from the tawku. “It’s letting us know it’s watching us. That we’re its prisoners.”
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