by Elise Kova
“I will, Ginger, thank you.”
Her cleric hovered, clearly debating something. Then a small, almost conspiratorial smile crossed her lips. “Princess, if I may, who is Taavin?”
“How do you know that name?” Vi tried to ask calmly, so as not to give away the instant feeling of protectiveness. She didn’t even want to share the mere thought of Taavin with anyone.
Taavin. Just the thought of his name, the way it settled with her, told her she’d dreamed about him. But the details of that dream had vanished on waking. Vi couldn’t recall anything.
“You were murmuring it in your sleep over and over.”
Vi felt a heat rise to her cheeks that had nothing to do with her spark.
“It’s normal for girls your age to begin feeling things,” Ginger started. Vi could tell from her tone that she really didn’t want to have this conversation. First Sehra, now Ginger. “Even your tutors have noticed that perhaps someone may have caught your eye, given your distractions lately. You’ve been taking more lunches and dinners in your room and, well… They’d suggested that I perhaps speak with you on the—” she cleared her throat “—logistics, of men and women.”
Vi went from merely “not wanting to have this conversation” to being willing to do just about anything but. “I appreciate all you do for me, but I don’t think this is the time.”
“Of course, princess. I understand. Merely consider me a resource for whenever you’re ready to discuss such things. For a lady of your status it is imperative to be careful, and your parents have entrusted me to cover such matters with you as is needed.” Ginger tucked one foot behind the other, dipping into a curtsy. She started for the door, but never got the chance to turn the lever.
The door opened from the other side, revealing Jax—Vi thanked every scrap of luck he had not entered moments earlier and been privy to the mention of Taavin. The moment he laid eyes on her, his whole expression crumpled into relief. She’d never seen such tenderness line his brow before.
“Thank the Mother,” he whispered. He turned to Ginger. “How is she?”
“The bones and organs are on the mend. We’re lucky it’s not more serious. Her face should mend up just fine, the nose should set right if she keeps still. And I’ve told her to stay in bed,” Ginger said pointedly, looking back to her.
“I’m not fighting you this time.”
“Good.” She turned back to Jax. “I’ll take care of the rest of the bruising in the morning.”
“Thank you for everything.” Jax clasped Ginger’s hand, sending her out the door in the same motion. He quickly closed it behind her, giving them privacy.
They had a small staring contest, but Vi was the first to avert her eyes. She didn’t know why she felt guilty for making him worry. What had happened certainly wasn’t her fault. Perhaps it was her regal training—that all fault ended with her. “I’m sorry, uncle.”
“Sorry?” He crossed quickly to the chair at her bedside that Ginger had just vacated. “Vi, I’m uttering prayers of thanks with my every breath that you’re alive.”
“Someone attacked me.” Vi reached for him and her uncle’s hand was there to grasp hers right when she needed him. “There was a man and—”
“I know.” He squeezed her hand tightly. “There were remnants of the struggle in the halls. After the cut girth… I should’ve expanded my investigation further, faster. The leather-smith claimed that, perhaps, when he was making some last-minute trimmings to account for some weight loss in Gormon, he dug too deeply on the tail of the straps. When I could find no other leads, the trail went cold and I stalled. Forgive me, Vi.”
Vi shook her head, the horrifying ordeal playing out in her mind. The elfin’ra had powers like her—like Sehra—but twisted by that same red lightning she’d seen in her visions. This was unlike anything Jax could fathom going against.
“Whoever this person is,” Vi began slowly. “I think they’re well trained in the art of stealth and subterfuge.”
“Clearly.”
“Did you find their body below where the bridge collapsed?” Vi thought back to the bridge. There was no way the elfin’ra could’ve avoided plummeting to his death.
“Body, no…” Horror crept across Jax’s face. No body meant no confirmed kill—the elfin’ra was still alive. “Tell me of your attacker,” he demanded. “I’ll oversee the warriors personally and we shall hunt them down.”
Vi searched his determined expression. How could she hope to explain what her attacker looked like? What he was?
The memories of the visions returned to her—men and women decaying alongside the world at its end. Her uncle was in knots over the mere idea of something happening to her. How could she explain they were all sprinting head-first toward the end of days and red-eyed elfin’ra were seeking her blood as Yargen’s champion to expedite the process?
She couldn’t explain it all. So she didn’t even try. She couldn’t subject him to that.
“It was dark… I couldn’t make out much.”
“Tell me what you can.”
“Skin as white as a ghost and red, glowing eyes.”
“Red eyes? Like a Firebearer who has freshly seen the future?” Jax asked.
“I suppose…” Vi murmured, now wondering if her eyes glowed red after her visions. She’d never been around a mirror for one.
“Can you tell me anything else?”
“He was hooded.” Vi shook her head. “I’m sorry. I know saying a pale skinned and red-eyed man attacked me seems difficult to believe.”
Jax leaned forward, tugging on her hand gently. He tilted his head up, staring in her eyes. Vi searched her uncle’s weathered face. Lines were drawn across his brow and hung in arcs underneath his eyes. He was only slightly older than her father but worry made him look nearly ancient.
“I will always believe you,” he vowed softly. She nearly told him in that second of her visions. But the moment passed as quickly as it came. “I’ll speak with Andru, see if he has any other details to contribute.”
Vi nodded. Ache seeped into her bones and Vi gently pulled his hand toward her. She brought it to her cheek, holding it there gently. It was the closest thing to a hug she could manage in her present condition.
“Thank you, uncle,” she whispered.
He said nothing more, shifting his palm to her forehead. Vi’s eyes fluttered closed for several moments as he gently stroked her hair. In a different world, the touch would be her father’s. But in this world, Jax was the closest thing she had.
“You should rest,” he said, soft enough that he clearly thought she was halfway to sleep. “I will position extra security at your room at all times.”
Vi appreciated the sentiment, even if she didn’t think the elfin’ra would be caught or stopped by any normal means. Her eyes fluttered open.
“Can you please send Andru to me?”
“He’s recovering as well, like you should be.”
“It won’t be long. I’d like to thank him,” she said trying to prop herself up a little more on the pillows so she didn’t actually fall asleep. “He saved my life. I promise I’ll be a good patient the rest of the day. Just ten minutes?”
“Very well.” Jax gave her a tender smile. She should have near-death experiences more often. It clearly softened him. “Never claim I don’t spoil you.”
“Thank you,” Vi called after him.
In a few minutes, Andru arrived. Vi watched as he slipped through the door, moving stiffly.
“Close it behind you,” Vi requested softly.
He did as instructed but continued to hover. His icy blue eyes stared down at her and Vi looked back at him. Neither of them said anything for several long moments.
“I thought you were trying to kill me,” Vi blurted.
“What?” He blinked, startled. “Is that really what you summoned me here to say?”
“No. Well, it was one of the things I wanted to say…” Vi admitted.
“Why did you think I w
as trying to kill you?” he asked skeptically.
“Because you showed up and suddenly strange things started happening.” A lot of strange things, but none of them could be blamed on Andru, it seemed. “You said you followed me into the city—”
“Because I wanted to protect you.” His eyes darted around the room, shifty. No, they weren’t shifty. She’d only thought they were. He was simply… awkward. “I can see the door to your room from my bedroom. I had been having trouble sleeping with all the forest noises and was up.” It was then that Vi realized she didn’t even know where they had put him up in the fortress. “I saw you going out, alone, looking very much like you were sneaking about. There was someone else following behind you, too, but they were gone when I went to approach them.”
“What did they look like?” Vi asked eagerly.
“I did not get a good look.” He walked slowly over to the chair Ginger had been using. “May I sit?” Andru rubbed his midsection and Vi remembered what Ginger had said. She gave a small nod. “What else did I do that made you think I wanted to kill you?”
“You wanted me to ride the noru with the broken saddle—”
“I thought you were going out because you wanted to ride the noru.”
Vi stared at him, dissecting the words. They sounded truthful to her ears, which meant… “You really are dense.”
“What?”
Vi laughed at his expression, her whole body aching as a result. “That was all a ploy for Ellene and Darrus.”
“Oh. Oh.” She watched as comprehension lit up his face.
“And then everything about my being fit to rule, and maybe my brother should… you haven’t exactly been friendly with me.”
“What? I tried to be.” Andru leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. He looked at them, speaking more to his fingers than her. “I am not the best at making friends. I think.” His head slowly rose and he stared at her for a long moment. Then said, simply, “I am sorry, your highness.”
“May I speak plainly?” Vi asked thoughtfully.
“I should be asking that of you.”
She took his statement as a yes and let out a small sigh as the last of the tension that had wound between her shoulders was unleashed. When she spoke again, it was no longer in the drawn out way of nobility, but the simple phrasing she’d use for Jax, Ellene, or Jayme.
“I think I have as much to apologize for as you do. I could’ve—should’ve—been nicer to you from the start.” Vi gave a small huff of laughter, mostly at herself. “You know my brother even told me you were important, and I think that, with all I’ve had going on, I botched it.”
“I wouldn’t say that…” Andru said slowly. His eyes drifted to her letter box. “Romulin said I was important?”
“‘More important than I could imagine’,” Vi answered delicately. She studied his face, trying to read the expression that lingered there.
“Did he ever write anything else about me?” Andru asked in a small voice. He’d never spoken so plainly around her. Perhaps having a shared near-death experience was what they both needed.
“No…” He hadn’t. Vi blinked slowly, realization dawning on her. “He never really wrote about any of his friends.”
Andru seemed just as shocked as she was. “What did he write about then?”
“Books he was reading, mother and father, the court, news of the South, advice for how to manage things…”
“All very useful nuggets of information. Romulin’s terribly savvy.” Andru smiled.
Vi tried to smile back, but her mind was preoccupied for the moment by musings of a similar vein to what she’d thought around Andru before. How much did she really know about her brother? Vi had always imagined they were close… but what sort of music did her brother enjoy? What hobbies filled his days when he wasn’t in his lessons? She was certain she’d written about those things.
“Your brother was actually the one who encouraged me to take this post,” Andru continued, oblivious to her moment of turmoil.
“He was?” Vi tried to shake her discomfort. She was merely overreacting due to exhaustion, seeing things that weren’t there.
“Romulin wanted me to help prepare you, and I don’t think I’ve done that at all.”
“You saved my life, surely that counts for something?” She gave him a small smile and his eyes darted away.
“At least I did that… Otherwise I might be in trouble.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know if I’m doing my job well.” He folded and unfolded his fingers, eyes darting back and forth, not quite making eye contact with her. “I need to do my job well.”
“Isn’t your father head of Senate? Aren’t you basically set for life?”
He laughed bitterly, a sound Vi recognized because she’d made it herself.
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Andru shook his head slowly. “My father is more of an ass than a donkey, and far more stubborn. You’re not the only one he has high expectations for.”
“At least you’re not an ass, then.” Vi sunk farther back into her pillows, ignoring the ache in her jaw from speaking so much.
“You don’t think so?”
“Not at all.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” He let out an audible sigh, bringing his gaze back to her. Perhaps it was all in her mind, but Vi would swear he was beginning to look her in the eye more.
“There’s something else I wanted to ask you…” Vi hadn’t been planning on the conversation taking this tone when she first summoned him, and though she was glad it did, she needed to find out the truth.
“Which is?”
“On the bridge… did you see him?”
Andru went very still. He said nothing, hardly breathing.
“You did.” Vi let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t expect having someone who knew even part of her secrets to be so relieving. Nor did she expect that someone, out of everyone, to be Andru.
“I don’t know what I saw.” He shook his head. “It was… It was like—”
“A monster?” An apt description, all things considered. “A man with glowing red eyes, not quite human?”
“And a magic to match,” he affirmed. “I thought… when I woke up, I thought I’d dreamed it but…”
“It was real,” Vi assured him. “What, exactly, did you see?”
“The sounds of your struggle woke me… But I only saw you on the bridge. I saw you both fall and as I reached out to catch you, a cage of lightning surrounded the man. By the time I had you in my arms, pulled in from the window, he had disappeared with nothing more than a flash.”
“I see…” Vi murmured. At least that explained, somewhat, why there was no body. She’d have to ask Taavin about the magic of the elfin’ra—learn what she was up against.
“What was that thing?” he whispered.
“A creature from very far away.” She didn’t bother launching into a description of a dark god and his acolytes. That was far more than would be useful for Andru in this moment. “Uncle says he’s going to investigate, but I doubt he’ll find anything… What I want to know is how he got here.”
“When you say very far away…”
“Farther than the Crescent Continent.”
“But there is nothing beyond the Crescent.” How wrong he was. But Vi didn’t see the point in correcting him. She never expected to pass up the opportunity to educate someone on geography, but today was turning into a banner one for firsts.
“You say there is nothing. But there are monsters. Trust me on this,” Vi half begged, half commanded. “As your sovereign and your new friend.”
“I do… I have no other choice after what I saw.” He shook his head. “Had I not, I would’ve had a much harder time believing it.”
“I’m glad you can affirm I’m not crazy, then.” On the list of possibly insane things to have happened to her, this wasn’t even at the top.
“It’s just that no one should be coming from the Crescent Conti
nent. Trade was shut down due to the White Death.”
“Which is why I want to know who is getting in and out.” She would be certain to ask Taavin too, at the next possible opportunity. But first, exhaustion was beginning to catch up with her.
“I’ll see what I can find.”
“That’s all I ask.” Vi shifted slowly. Her whole body ached, and her torso felt more jelly-like than she remembered. Every shift and smile hurt her face. But she grabbed his hands with hers. Andru jumped, startled at the touch. His eyes drifted up to hers and they stared questioningly. “Thank you, truly.”
“For Romulin’s sister, I’d do anything.”
Vi hoped it was true. Because she had the distinct feeling that she would be asking more of him in the coming days.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The hours and her consciousness slipped between her fingers like unformed strands of magic for the rest of the day.
Jayme and Ellene stopped in at some point—either the first or second day, Vi couldn’t quite remember. The conversation was kept light, mostly her friends expressing relief that she was all right. Vi could sense some tension from Jayme, mostly stemming from guilt over not being the one to protect her. But, to her credit, the woman knew it wasn’t the time to dig into Vi about it. After spending so long speaking with Andru, Vi didn’t want to rehash everything. She needed a day to think and the quiet space to do it in.
On the morning of the third day, Vi created that space thanks to Ginger. She told the cleric that she wanted a day to rest and the woman became her sworn guard. Since breakfast, not even one servant had come in. Vi waited until Ginger returned to deliver lunch, knowing she should have a few more hours of uninterrupted time afterward.
Vi sat upright in her bed, as tall as she could manage. The room was cool; winter had finally taken hold in the North. A light breeze tickled between her fingers before the heat of her magic flowing freely replaced the sensation.