Vortex Chronicles: The Complete Series (Air Awakens: Vortex Chronicles)

by Elise Kova

  As if in a trance, Vi crossed to it, pulling the key from her pocket. She knew it would fit before she even inserted it into the hole and yet, as she did, there was a heavy weight to her every motion. The lock disengaged with a quiet metallic clang.

  Taking a breath, Vi pushed open the gate and stepped into the darkness that awaited her at the next Apex of Fate.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The room was not the sort of dark that fell over the land when the sun went to sleep. The darkness here was deeper, richer, and so impenetrable that not even light or noise seemed to exist within. It was so complete that Vi had to turn back to the gate leading to the Crossroads to assure herself that she hadn’t gone blind.

  The gate… had closed behind her without so much as a sound.

  In fact, there were no sounds in the void she now found herself in. Her breathing rattled her chest, hitching in a panic that rose with the tone of her voice as she almost squeaked, “Hello?”

  If there was ever a moment when Vi was certain she was going to die, it was then. But she didn’t die. Nothing happened at all.

  Vi took two more steps forward, bumping into a table in the darkness. She tilted forward, pressing both hands down for balance. Something crunched under her palms and Vi hastily lifted them, shaking away the dried flakes.

  Did she even want to know what that was?

  Summoning bravery and her flame, Vi looked. The whole table was scattered with flecks of deep crimson—but it wasn’t dried blood.

  “Rose petals?” Vi picked one up and it nearly disintegrated between her fingers, time weighing too heavily on the fragile petal.

  Far in the back, there was a sliver of light—a red glow she hadn’t seen before. It was ominous, terrifying, and she was certain it was where she needed to go.

  Slowly, Vi stepped around the table. On the outer edge of the room were empty shelves—all save one, which held quills lined neatly in silver inkwells. They glinted in the light of her tiny dancing flame, as if winking back at her. Suppressing a shiver, Vi pressed on.

  As she neared the sliver of angry light, a new scent tickled her nose. It was earthy, familiar, though Vi couldn’t place it until she felt the crunch of dried grasses under her feet.

  No, not grass.

  “Wheat?” Vi crouched down, looking back. Nothing but darkness pressed in on her. She couldn’t see the light of the Crossroads peeking through the iron of the gate. Both the table of rose petals and the shelf of quills were invisible to her now. “What is this place?” Vi muttered as she straightened.

  She’d thought it was a curiosity shop, but this was nothing like what she expected. The shelves were supposed to be packed with all kinds of tokens for clients to burn and hold when the Firebearer looked into the future. Vi would’ve thought the place abandoned, if not for the rose petals, quills, and wheat.

  It was almost as if someone had expected her to come here, laying out the tokens like invitations. Was it possible the old woman had had a glimpse of the future before she left the West? Had she known Vi would come?

  But if that were the case, Vi would have to believe there was some deeper meaning to the seemingly random things strewn about.

  Her hand closed around the watch at her neck on instinct and Vi took a deep breath. She couldn’t allow herself to get unnerved by this strange place. She was here for one thing—a vision. It didn’t matter what the place was used for before, or after.

  Crossing the path of wheat to the doorway, Vi pushed aside the heavy curtain that had been barely open a sliver. Inside the small back room was a recessed fire pit and a single fire burning like an invitation. The white-blue flame waiting for her, a silent instruction.

  Taking a breath, Vi knelt before it, opened her eyes wide, and stared into the flame.

  The fire nearly exploded, tendrils wrapping around her in an eager embrace. Yet unlike the fire Vi had created and manipulated before, this did not singe her clothes. It hovered just off of her flammable fabrics and caressed the exposed skin of her hands and face. It crashed on her like a wave; Vi couldn’t have shut her eyes if she tried.

  White. Her vision was nothing but white hot fire. A tingle rose in the back of her mind, her eyes widened further, and there in the distance of the whiteout was the silhouette of a man.

  Vi found herself standing on a rocky beach, her father opposite her.

  Father! She wanted to scream. But as was normal in her visions, Vi couldn’t hear or feel. She could merely bear witness to a future that may or may not come to pass.

  Aldrik Solaris stood with all the regal poise of an Emperor, perched on a large stone covered in blue frost. He stood as if in defiance to the grime that covered his cheeks and the shackles that weighed down his arms. His hair was greasy, stringing around a face coated in thick, dark stubble. Clothes that had once been white were soiled in filth.

  Still he held his head high. Even when she shouldn’t have been able to recognize him, Vi did. She knew her father from his bearing alone. Moreover, she knew him from his eyes—eyes as hard and dark as iron.

  Next to him was a woman Vi didn’t recognize. Her hair was white and extended down to her waist in loose, wispy locks that caught the faintest of breezes. While her face seemed youthful—no older than Vhalla’s—she held a silver, bejeweled cane in her hand. The appendage caught Vi’s eye.

  The woman was missing her arm.

  Frost floated off her hand and through the thin sleeve of her shirt. She had a hand made entirely of ice. Vi continued to stare, fascinated by the novel use of magic.

  The woman lifted her cane, pointing out to sea. She said words Vi couldn’t hear to her father, who remained expressionless. Vi turned, looking toward the source of the woman’s attention.

  Bright sunlight filled the horizon, blinding her. Vi squinted, unable to make out what the woman might be pointing at. Everything grew hazy, and Vi realized far too late that the light wasn’t just from the sun, but the ending of her vision.

  It wasn’t enough.

  She spun back around, looking for her father. He had nearly vanished, engulfed by the white light overtaking everything. Vi tried to run to him.

  An expression of horror had overtaken her father’s face as the woman grinned wickedly.

  Father! She screamed with every decibel her mind could generate. Father I will come for you!

  Perhaps it was all in her imagination, but his eyes seemed to drift in her direction, if only briefly. Vi held his gaze for one last second. One more moment to see her father living and breathing.

  The fire receded all at once, releasing its hold on her and retreating to nothing more than red hot embers, a slumbering beast. Vi fell forward into the soot and ash, into the coals.

  “Show me again!” she cried, flames burning between her fingers, trying to ignite the spent wood. “Show me more!”

  But no more visions came. She couldn’t plead with the Apexes of Fate, or make demands of them. They showed her what there was to see and nothing more.

  Vi hunched over the remnants of the fire, breathing slowly. Her magic wavered and wobbled, the flame dancing with it. She stared bitterly into the orange and red glow, simmering like her resolve. Hoisting herself upright, Vi wiped her face, smearing soot but ensuring no rogue tears had slipped over her cheeks.

  Standing, she looked down at the remnants of the fire, glowing like fading stars on charcoal.

  Her father was alive. He was alive, and waiting for her arrival. Vi took a deep breath—she still had time to make it to him.

  When she opened and stepped back through the door, the empty store was lit by the first hazy lights of dawn. The room was the size she’d originally expected it to be—small, with only two tables and some shelves along the walls. The gate was open once more, as if inviting her back into the world.

  With a breath, Vi accepted the invitation, wheat crunching under her feet as she started for the exit. Adjusting her headscarf, Vi stepped into the early morning light with a deep breath and turned left
—away from the hotel, and her family.

  The East-West Way would lead her to Norin, the greatest port in the world, where she would find countless ships on which to secure passage across the sea to Meru. Further west still, across treacherous, pirate-infested seas, was her father—and the cure for an ailing Empire.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Vi walked without stopping.

  She walked as the sun crested the desert sands, spreading its arms as it woke up in beams of light that broke on a cloudless sky. She walked as the men and women of the Crossroads awoke. She walked as merchants began to fill their stalls with wares and open the doors of their stores, spreading out their large sun canopies in preparation for the day.

  Her mind was filled with two things only: her father and Meru. No matter what, she would get to him. She would learn of everything that had transpired since he left, how he’d survived, and what exactly he’d been doing.

  Then she would get to Taavin, and embrace him. Together, the three of them would find a cure, of that Vi was certain. Then she’d return for her mother, and they’d all live happily ever after.

  It was the perfect plan, too perfect to unfold without a hitch in real life, but Vi repeated the lie over and over again.

  Ahead of her, Vi could see the edge of the Crossroads. The buildings had been shrinking, the stalls becoming less lush the further away from the center of the Crossroads she got, and now in the distance she could see a glimpse of the Waste and the road that snaked through it. She was so close to what felt like true freedom that she had to struggle to contain a scream of pure anguish as a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist, halting her.

  Vi whirled, the spark igniting between her fingers. She pulled it back, freezing in place the second her eyes met those of the woman who had stopped her. A familiar set of irises looked back at hers, searching. They rested under knitted brows and a mess of brown hair.

  “Jayme,” Vi whispered. “What are you doing here?”

  “Making sure you stay out of trouble… Or trouble stays away from you.” Her voice was low, almost a growl, as her eyes darted around. She wore a heavy cape over her shoulders, but Vi could see she still had her sword and chainmail on underneath.

  “What are you talking about?” Vi narrowed her eyes, looking from sword to woman.

  At the sight, Jayme slowly uncurled her fingers from around Vi’s wrist, easing her hand back down and taking a small step back. Vi returned the gesture in kind, lowering her hand and letting go of the fire with a sigh. She continued to look around them, though no merchants seemed to have noticed.

  “Romulin told me you were leaving.”

  Every curse word Vi had ever heard flew across her brain at once. Her brother didn’t out her to their mother, or the army at large. But he did tell Jayme—Vi’s guard and friend. She could understand the logic, but she still resented him for it. Jayme was supposed to stay behind to protect him.

  “You’re not going to stop me,” Vi declared, adjusting her head scarf once more, praying no one looked too closely at the odd exchange.

  “I’m not trying to.” Vi stilled. Jayme’s eyes swept their surroundings again. “Not out in the open… this way.”

  They started toward a secluded alcove between two buildings. Not quite an alleyway, but not in the center of the street either. Jayme leaned against the opposite wall, arms folded. It was then that Vi noticed her friend had a pack on under her cloak. She’d come prepared.

  “You’re going to come with me,” Vi said softly.

  Jayme nodded solemnly. “It’s my duty to protect and look out for you. I’m not letting you do this alone.”

  “You don’t even know what I’m going to do.”

  “I have a hunch.”

  “Really?” It was Vi’s turn to fold her arms over her chest.

  “Yes, really.”

  “What do you think that is?”

  “I think you’re going to look for your father.” Jayme fought a grin and lost as Vi’s arms fell to her sides, defeated.

  “Am I that transparent?”

  “Only to those who know you.” Jayme’s hand fell on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze and a light shake. Vi didn’t know why, but she found the weight reassuring as the woman leaned in slightly. “Fortunately for you, I know you, and I’m not going to stop you.”

  “Why? You should.”

  “I should,” Jayme agreed. “But who will really be surprised that I’ve gone off with you? If anything, they’ll expect it.” Vi gave a soft huff amusement and agreement. “Plus, it may give your mother some peace of mind to know that her daughter has someone looking out for her.”

  Vi sighed softly. Her leaving would be enough stress on her mother. If there was something she could do to alleviate it, she should. As usual, Romulin’s decision was flawless—even if it thwarted Vi’s attempts to, just once, look after her younger brother.

  “All right.”

  “Is that a, ‘Yes, Jayme, I’m not going to fight you’?”

  “Yes, Jayme, I’m not going to fight you. But I will stress that it’ll be dangerous—”

  “Since when have I been afraid of danger?”

  “And I will be leaving the Empire.”

  “If I don’t want to go, I’ll turn back.” Jayme straightened away, resting her hand on the pommel of her sword. “I’m more than capable of making my own decisions.”

  “Let’s go then.” There wasn’t much more time to waste. Romulin may already be working to stall their mother, prolonging Vi’s discovery.

  “Lead on.”

  Vi stepped back out into the sunlight, starting once more down the road—this time, with Jayme at her side. From time to time, she would look over her shoulder, half expecting a small military party to be racing after her. But, much like the first time she’d snuck out in Soricium, Vi was surprised at how easy it was for her to slip away. Minus telling Jayme of her plans, Romulin had done well.

  “Did you have another vision of him?” Jayme finally asked, long after there were no more buildings around them and only the endless sands of the desert.

  “Yes.” Vi didn’t have to guess who he was. “Right before I left, I found another Apex and saw the future—this time, my father.”

  “He’s alive then?”

  “Perhaps, for now…” Vi shook her head. “It’s hard to say, since my visions can change.”

  “But this seems like a good omen.”

  “I hope so.” Vi adjusted the pack on her shoulders. “Did you find anything more about Fallor before you left?”

  “I tried, but there wasn’t much time. I was in the process of settling into the temporary barracks with the soldiers when Romulin sent for me. After that, I was more focused on packing… Don’t give me that look.” Vi raised a hand to her face, trying to feel what look she’d been giving Jayme without realizing it. “I made sure to mention everything you told me about Fallor to Romulin. He’ll have someone else look into the brute and will be on guard.”

  “Good.” Vi breathed a sigh of relief.

  Jayme flashed her a bright smile. “I’ve always admired that about you.”

  “What?”

  “How much you want to protect your family. I know that’s why you didn’t tell me you were leaving.” The smile continued to play on Jayme’s lips as she looked over her shoulder, eastward.

  “Guilty.”

  “I would do anything to protect mine.”

  “I know.” Vi reached over, giving her friend’s hand a squeeze.

  Jayme looked down, squeezing back as her eyes trailed up Vi’s arm to her face. “I’m glad. That means you understand me.”

  “Of course I do.”

  The day progressed without incident. It was surprisingly peaceful. The lone cry of a bird of prey, soaring so high overhead that it was merely a silhouette against the bright blue sky, was the only thing to break the sound of the wind and whispering dunes.

  “We should stop and set up camp,” Jayme said finally.

  Vi tu
rned, looking back. The Crossroads was now a distant point on the horizon. She’d been watching it shrink for hours, but it still didn’t seem far enough away.

  “We can go a little further,” she insisted.

  “No.” As if to accentuate her point, the woman dropped her pack right on the road. “We need to conserve our strength, and the sun is going down. We want a camp set up before the night’s chill sets in.”

  “But—”

  “Who’s traversed the desert more, you or I?” Jayme asked pointedly.

  “Fine, you… but let’s make it far from the road. I don’t want any search parties to see us.”

  “If they were sending a search party this way, they would’ve by now. I’d bet they’re keeping the search local. The soldiers underestimate you; I don’t think they’ll suspect you’re capable of wandering too far on your own.” Jayme picked up her pack and started off the road anyway. “We’ll set up camp off the road, but not too far. We want to avoid desert wolves or scorpions. We’ll also avoid making a fire that would draw attention to us.”

  “I didn’t see any animals other than a bird in the sky on the way here.” Vi followed behind.

  “That’s because you’ve been marching in a huge party along the road. Creatures are less likely to frequent where there’s established traffic.”

  “A desert wolf could make a good meal,” Vi mused.

  “You’re the hunter between us. If you can nab one, go for it and we can cook it in the morning.” Jayme shrugged. “I brought rations though, just in case.”

  “Me too.” Vi set her pack down next to Jayme’s about fifty paces into the desert sand. “At least enough to get me—well, us, now—to Inton.”

  “Inton?”

  “It’s a small town, well, more of an outpost really, a little more than halfway between the Crossroads and Norin. I figured we could resupply there.”

  “I’ve never heard of it before.”

  “A lot of maps leave it off, it’s so small. I’ve only seen it on the enlarged Western-made versions Elecia sent me.” Vi set down her pack, rummaging through and producing her journal. “This is just a summary… but we’re about here and—”