by Elise Kova
He was right. Something had changed. Jayme’s betrayal had awoken a darkness in her that Vi worried she’d never be free of.
“Vi, what is it?” he asked softly, emerald eyes shining in the firelight. Did hers shine as brightly? Or had they dulled with the dust of the long road she’d traveled?
“It’s nothing.” Besides being trapped in the dark prison of my thoughts. “It took a lot to get here. That’s all.”
He opened his mouth to speak again and Vi knew what he was going to ask. He’d want details. He’d probe for information she wasn’t ready to give. Those events were still lost in the depths of the black waters sloshing in the hole in her chest.
“It seems to have been the same for you,” Vi countered. His turn to look away. “The Swords of Light, the strong arm of the Faithful, are after you?”
“Led by Lord Ulvarth, no less.”
“Their leader?”
“Yes. Knight of the Sun. Lord of the Faithful. Beloved by Yargen. Sole attendant to the Voice.” Taavin enumerated Ulvarth’s titles, each more bitter than the last.
“That’s a mouthful… Not that I’m one to talk.” Taavin gave a small grin at her jest, one he quickly abandoned. “He was there, wasn’t he?”
“He was,” Taavin said. “At the front.” The firelight danced on his skin, casting long shadows. For a man who was filled with the power of light, darkness seemed to love him.
“They want to bring you back to the Archives of Yargen, don’t they?”
“As soon as they can. I don’t think it’s public knowledge that I’ve escaped yet. If word gets out, Ulvarth stands to lose his rank and title—or the people’s faith, at the very least.”
She was slowly piecing together the parts of Taavin’s life from bits of information he’d dropped like breadcrumbs in a vast forest. A man who was the head of a holy order—who’d ordained the Queen of Meru by his hand. But a puppet for others, a captive to keep under control so that Ulvarth could have power over arguably the strongest organization on Meru.
Her heart ached for him as her blood boiled with rage at the Lord of the Faithful.
“Why does Adela want you? Because you’re a Solaris?”
At the mere mention of Adela, Vi’s midsection ached. “The elfin’ra have put a bounty out for me,” Vi answered simply.
“And Adela will capitalize on anything, even the end of the world.” Taavin cursed under his breath.
She’d even capitalize on the lonely heart of a gullible princess, Vi thought bitterly. But she kept her mouth shut.
“Vi, what is it?” Taavin’s palm cupped her cheek, summoning Vi’s attention back once more from the demons lurking in her heart. “Let me help you,” he said gently.
“You’ve done enough.” It was her turn to take care of him now. And Vi didn’t want to give Jayme another thought or word. Doing so felt like letting the traitor win. “We should plan our next move. You have Lord Ulvarth after you, and I have Fallor—Adela by extension—after me. It’s a lot to deal with.”
“Our next move is to wait.” Taavin shifted, wincing again as his hand fell from her face. Vi caught it, not wanting to let go his warmth just yet. She felt far too cold on the inside to lose his touch.
“We have to keep moving. We’re not safe here.”
“This is the one place we have a chance to be safe,” he insisted.
“Why?” Vi remembered his mention that they wouldn’t “dare” follow them into the forest.
“Because we’re in the Twilight Forest, which is under the protection of the Twilight Kingdom.”
“Twilight Kingdom?” Vi repeated.
“The Twilight Kingdom is inhabited by the morphi, those who command the power of the shift.”
Twilight Kingdom. Morphi. The shift. Her head was spinning, trying to take in all the new information at once. “What’s the power of the shift? Is that another discipline of magic on Meru—like Lightspinning?”
Taavin’s eyes fluttered closed a moment as he took a shallow breath. He looked exhausted and Vi knew she should let him rest. But it was hard to do that when information that might keep them alive hung on his tongue.
“It is. But I admit… I don’t know much. The shift is a forbidden topic for the Faithful.”
“What makes it forbidden?”
“You saw the markings on Fallor’s brow?” he asked. She nodded, remembering the glowing dots that he’d covered with grease paint when she’d first met him. “Those are the mark of the morphi. The Faithful teach that they—the morphi—are turning their backs on Yargen by anchoring themselves in the twilight—neither darkness or light. Because of this altered existence, they can shift reality—which is an affront to Yargen’s goodness.”
“That sounds like a more religious than logical reason.”
“It likely is.” Taavin let out a soft sigh, eyelids drooping. “As I said, I know little of this power. Only the morphi possess it, and they guard the secrets of the shift with their lives.”
“Is it because of the shift that Fallor can become an eagle?” Vi asked. “He’s shifting the reality of himself—his nature—into that of an eagle?”
“That is my understanding, yes. Physical change is just one of their skills. They can also distort or break Lightspinning magic.”
“That’s what he did in the field, to break your illusion?”
“Yes.”
“So how does this Twilight Kingdom protect us, if Fallor is one of them?” Vi kept her focus on the pressing matter of their survival rather than any questions on magical theory.
“He’s a morphi… but the Twilight Kingdom holds no love for him. He’s a famous exile from their lands, forbidden from entering their territory.”
“And the Faithful won’t follow us into the forests because the shift magic is anathema to them?” Dislike of the morphi still seemed an arbitrary and ill-founded prejudice, but if it protected them, she wouldn’t complain too much about it.
“More or less.”
“Can we seek refuge in the Twilight Kingdom?”
“No, we’ll rest here until I can recover.” Taavin rested a hand lightly on his ribs. “Which may be some time since we’ve lost the contents of my trunk.”
“Sorry…” Vi muttered. It had gone up in smoke with the rest of the shack.
“It’s all right. I didn’t have much left anyway after traveling for a good week.”
“If we can’t seek refuge, can we at least restock in the Kingdom?” She couldn’t blame Taavin for wanting to keep a low profile, given who he was. But surely she could at least go and get what they needed?
“No. The Kingdom is protected by an impenetrable shift. Even if you could get through… you shouldn’t.”
“But I can—”
“The enemies of our enemies are not our friends in this case. Neither of us should venture to interact with anyone from the Twilight Kingdom.” He spoke as though it were a declaration. Vi bristled at the tone but didn’t object. He knew far more about Meru and its nuances than she.
“Why would they have a reason to be hostile to us?”
“For the same reason that I will not heal myself with halleth… The feeling of hatred is mutual between the Faithful and the morphi. If they sense Lightspinning in their lands, we will be hunted. We conceal ourselves here in body and in magic.”
Which meant they weren’t really safe at all. Vi turned toward the narrow entrance they’d squeezed through. The rain still pounded outside, perhaps intent on raising the water in the small stream and flooding them out like two rats. In the distance, thunder rolled.
“Raspian is getting stronger…” Taavin mumbled, his eyes finally closing for slumber. “The end of the world is drawing near.”
Vi remained silent, allowing Taavin to slip off to sleep.
She didn’t bother worrying him with the fact that this was the second time she’d seen red lightning.
Chapter Four
The first thing Vi felt was the reassuring warmth of someone next
to her.
The soft dripping of the cave filled her ears. Wet plops thrummed a rhythm underneath the echoes of the quietly babbling stream that ran by the entrance. The world was far quieter than when she’d gone to sleep.
Vi slowly opened her eyes, her attention drawn immediately to the man at her side. The gray light washed out his features and darkened his hair nearly to black. It clung with grime and sweat around his face, the natural waves of it almost clumping into curls. Slowly, Vi raised a hand, lightly pushing his hair away from his eyes.
Her fingertip brushed the point of his ear, her hand lingering there almost of its own volition.
He truly was different from her. She’d always known it. Yet when she had summoned him with narro hath, he’d existed in the framework of her world. Now, she was an occupant of his, and even the princess who belonged nowhere had never felt so out of place.
She’d finally made it to him. Somehow, he felt farther away than ever. They were from different worlds, pulled together by fate. Two people who should have never met and seemed destined for nothing more than heartache.
Vi lifted her hand off his person, though he was still heavy on hers. He was far heavier than Ellene had been when she’d fallen asleep on Vi’s shoulder during too-long stories around campfires.
Ellene.
Vi had begrudged her life in Shaldan. Those endless nights of storytelling, the expectations of royalty, her never-ending lessons, the seemingly insufferable captivity. How grateful she would be to have one more night to relax with Ellene and sip cider, safe and protected behind walls meant to keep the world out as much as Vi in. She had never fully appreciated how good she’d had it.
And now it was gone.
The young princess who had sat around those firesides was lost on a beach between the Dark Isle and Meru. She was no longer that innocent, spoiled girl. Vi took a slow inhale of breath. The anger that ebbed and flowed within her had no direction, and would serve nothing. She had work to do; she had to let it go… But she didn’t know how.
“Vi…” Taavin murmured, face still pressed against her shoulder. He hadn’t even opened his long lashes yet. She shifted slightly, trying to get a better look at his face.
The man was calling for her in his sleep. But her movement seemed to rouse him from the remnants of dreamland.
“Did I disturb you?” she asked softly.
“No.” Taavin winced as he rubbed his sides. “I think I disturbed myself.” She neglected to mention that she’d been the one to lightly trail her fingers along his face. “It’s late.”
“Is it?”
“Given how stiff I am, I think so.”
“Good to know the stiffness isn’t just me.” Using the wall for support, Vi pushed herself upward. There wasn’t much room to stretch, but she made a good effort of it. “I’m going to wash my face and have a drink.”
“While you’re out, will you get me a garnet skullcap?”
“You’re not coming? Some fresh air would do you well.”
“You may be right… But no.” Taavin adjusted himself slightly. Vi didn’t miss the wince. “I think I shall linger here for a bit more. I’m not quite sure if it’s the best idea for me to be moving yet… The skullcap should help relieve the aches and soothe me back to sleep.”
“You slept a fair bit.” A frown crossed her lips. Could a person sleep too much? Vi suddenly wished she’d paid more attention to Ginger’s brief clerical lessons whenever Vi landed herself in trouble. Another thing she’d taken for granted.
“The more I rest, the faster we can be on the road.” He gave her what Vi could easily recognize as a brave smile in the face of great pain.
“Taavin, I’m worried—”
“Don’t worry about me, Vi. I’m elfin; we’re a hearty bunch and heal much faster than humans, even without any kind of clerical assistance.” Heal much faster than her, he meant. Everything this morning served to remind her of their differences. “Garnet skullcap. Bright white flowers shaped like little bells. Deep crimson leaves—thin and slightly waxy.”
Vi quickly repeated the description back to him. “Got it.”
“Thank you, Vi.”
She gave a nod. “I’ll be back soon.”
Vi sucked in her stomach and squeezed through the narrow passage and out onto the rocky bed of the stream. Raising a hand to her eyes, Vi shielded them from the bright white light of morning, giving them a chance to adjust.
Motion startled her near instantly. Vi ducked quickly, raising her hand, her spark crackling around her fingers. She jerked her head toward a nearby tree where the projectile had landed.
No, wait, not a projectile… Sitting in the tree was a bird as big as her forearm with a long neck and oil-slick plumage. It almost looked wet with how the light shimmered off its long feathers. Every subtle breeze sent rainbows across its back and breast. From hooked beak to bright blue talons, Vi had never seen anything like it.
The strange looking bird regarded her for a long moment before taking off with an undignified chirp. Vi watched it take flight, the mere sight of a bird sending small shivers down her spine. She wondered if she would ever be able to see a winged creature again without thinking of Fallor.
Vi set off, trying to leave thoughts of the pirate behind her.
In the daylight, the trees were an eerie gray color. Not quite the shade of bleached bone, but brighter than the ashes of a fire pit, and a hue Vi had never seen among the giant sentries of the North. These trees were tall—dizzyingly so. But they were thin from root to canopy. So thin that Vi wondered how they didn’t topple over with the slightest of breezes that swayed their canopies.
The forest floor was covered with leaves and little else. There were no smaller shrubs, no fan-like fronds stretching out to block her path. She could see straight through all the trees like bars in a cage until the horizon blurred and it was hard to tell just where anything stopped and started.
That was the real reason she didn’t stray far from the stream.
Every tree of the forest looked identical. Sameness and more sameness. It was a forest she felt she could get lost in forever if she wasn’t careful.
“Red leaves,” she murmured to herself.
She’d been walking for the better part of an hour in search of the skullcap. Vi was about ready to give up when she finally found it. Taavin hadn’t specified what part of the plant he needed—and Vi knew all too well that not all parts of a plant were equal, at least not when it came to extracting medicinal properties. So she dug it out, roots to delicate buds.
“I think I have it,” Vi announced as she squeezed back into their hiding place.
The skullcap slipped from her fingers, forgotten.
“Taavin!” She knelt at his side. The man’s chin was slumped to his chest. His arms hung heavy, palms up. The last person she’d seen in such a state had been dying from the White Death. “Taavin wh—”
“I was merely resting.” He lifted his head with a start, giving her a thin smile. “No need to fret.”
Vi searched his face. Lying. He was lying through his teeth. There was plenty of reason for her to fret.
“You’re not okay, are you?” she whispered.
“I will be.” Taavin looked toward his feet, seeing the skullcap she’d dropped. “I see you found some.”
“I did.”
“Good. I’ll just need the buds… two for now. Be careful to pinch them off so that you don’t get any stem. Here, like this.” His hands reached out, covering her fingers lightly. Vi split her attention between what he was showing her and his haggard expression. Even now, even after all that had transpired, a certain grace clung to him and wouldn’t let go.
“Here, let me do the next.” She focused on the task at hand and tried to replicate his motions.
“Perfect.” Taavin took the bud from her fingers, chewing it thoughtfully before swallowing. With that, he leaned back, settling himself once more.
Vi shifted to face him. His feet were at her side,
hers at his. Her eyes landed on his hands—folded over his lower stomach and slowly running over a golden bracelet Vi had never seen before. Had they been outstretched, she might have gathered them in her own.
This was the first quiet—and fully conscious—moment they’d had since meeting in person, she realized.
Suddenly, despite all that had transpired, she felt marginally awkward. Her hands couldn’t seem to find a good place to rest. How had she been so comfortable around him before? How had she touched him like it was nothing? Vi ended up mirroring his pose.
“How long will it take for you to get better?” she asked.
“With enough rest and any luck, a few days at worst.”
“A few days…” she repeated, her mind already turning over the implications of the thought. “I’ll need to forage some sustenance for us.” He’d said the Twilight Kingdom and Forest were the lands of the morphi, and the last thing Vi wanted to do was slay an animal that was secretly a person. Her thoughts wandered back to the dark bird—it was a good thing she hadn’t killed it.
“Do you know what plants are safe to eat?”
“I was going to look for ones I recognized. I realize I’m far from home, but there’s likely a few common varieties—Meru and the Dark Isle aren’t that far apart. Certain mushrooms grow across the whole Dark Isle… I assume they’ll be here too. Maybe some fruits or nuts that you can help identify?”
“Brilliant thoughts. Forgive me for forgetting how capable you are.” A small, sad smile crossed his mouth. “I sometimes think of our captivity as the same. In reality, you were able to explore far more than me.”
The aching and longing in his voice kept Vi from arguing. She hadn’t ever really been able to explore. Not in the true, untethered sense of the word. But she had been awarded some freedoms. She’d had teachers who wanted her to know how to survive in the wilds if, or when, she needed to. She suspected none of them ever thought she’d have to put theory into practice—but here she found herself, somewhat prepared to face this newest challenge.
Even if she hadn’t realized it at the time, she’d had luxuries Taavin had only dreamed of.