by Elise Kova
Vi’s heart pounded so hard in her chest that it rattled her lungs. Breathing suddenly felt harder than normal. Cast out? Succeed, or live in exile? What circumstances were these? When she’d envisioned Arwin coming, she hadn’t envisioned anything like this.
Vi was playing a game, though she knew precious little of the rules.
“Do you understand?” King Noct asked solemnly.
“I understand, my king. And as your royal guard, I live by your words.”
The next morning, Vi woke early. She dressed with more than enough time to get lost in her thoughts before there was a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
Vi turned, surprised to see Sarphos rather than Arwin.
“I hear you’re leaving,” he said as he entered the room.
“So it seems.” Vi leaned against the wall by the window, staring out at the bloody-ringed moon that never left the sky. “Can’t say I’m surprised the King’s hospitality has run short given that I’m responsible for his daughter’s exile.”
“King Noct holds no ill will toward you.” Sarphos set a satchel down at the foot of her bed.
“I wouldn’t blame him if he did,” Vi said gently, giving him permission to be honest.
“Arwin made her choice.”
I did a pretty good job of convincing him to go along with it, Vi thought to herself. She’d replayed the conversation again and again for half the night. Wondering if she’d done the right thing. But Arwin had been eager to go along first. So Vi tried to set the worry out of her mind.
“I prepared something for the road.” Sarphos motioned to the satchel. “There’s some crackers in there that can fill an empty stomach like a meal, a specially woven blanket that will keep you warm even on the coldest nights without being bulky, salves, of course, and—”
“Why have you been so nice to me?” Vi interrupted. “You hardly know me.”
“Do I have to know someone to be kind to them?”
“Too much kindness… too much trust… It will get you hurt, or killed,” Vi muttered bitterly.
“The opposite is also true—but it’ll be a much lonelier death.”
“What would you know about it?” she murmured.
“A lot more than you give me credit for.” He sighed and stood. “I don’t understand everything about you or your world. But I don’t have to, to see that you’re hurting.” Vi opened her mouth about to protest, tell him to stop any kind of diagnosis he’d been performing on her. “Trust me when I say you’re not the only one who’s been hurt by people they loved.”
Vi pressed her lips shut as Sarphos started for the door.
“Look after her, please.”
“Arwin is far stronger than I, she can look after herself.”
“But her emotions get the better of her and cause trouble.” He stopped, and the long pause that followed was what brought Vi’s attention back to the healer one last time. “I’ve already lost a brother, Vi,” Sarphos whispered. “I don’t want to lose a sister, too.”
With that, the man was off and Vi finished readying for her journey alone.
She inspected the contents of the pack. In addition to all Sarphos had promised, there were a few extra changes of clothes, wrapped around vials. It didn’t matter what he said, Sarphos was a fool for giving away his kindness as he did… She certainly didn’t deserve it.
Vi put the journal she’d been working in atop everything else in the satchel, slung it over her shoulder, and strapped the scythe to her back over the opposite shoulder. The strap from the satchel and the scythe formed an X over her chest. But thanks to the undergarments Arwin had gifted her, neither dug in uncomfortably.
Also thanks to Arwin, Vi no longer had to carry the scythe by hand. The woman had taken heed of King Noct’s suggestion and stopped in last night with a special strap identical to those she used to carry her pole arms.
“It looks good on you,” Arwin appraised as Vi met her on the arcade walkway.
“Thanks.” Vi gripped the strap.
“Though, unhooking the strap can make for a slow draw. You may not want to have the weapon wrapped as well, in case you need to get to it.”
They started back toward the entrance.
“If I don’t have it wrapped, it’ll draw too much attention.” Vi patted the fabric covering the blade. She suspected her magic would be the first thing she fought with the moment she was out of the Twilight Forest. Vi was still more confident with a sword in her hand than a scythe.
They walked through the entryway and out of the palace, starting along the same road Vi had now traversed many times. Other than the occasional person who gave a nod or wave to Arwin, there was no fanfare.
“Not much of a going-away party,” Vi said under her breath, tightening the bandanna around her forehead.
“They’re used to my coming and going,” Arwin replied. Vi hadn’t intended for the woman to hear. “I’m usually patrolling the edges of our kingdom, checking the barriers daily. They don’t know that this time I’ll be gone a little longer than normal.”
“Don’t you want to say goodbye to anyone?” Vi couldn’t help but ask. Something about their departure reminded Vi of leaving Norin. A princess quietly departing her Empire… even if Arwin wasn’t technically a princess.
“I said goodbye to my family earlier.”
“Friends?”
“I don’t have many of those.”
“I’m shocked.” The dry remark slipped through Vi’s lips before she could stop it. Arwin looked over her shoulder in what could’ve been a glare, had it not been so obviously laced with pride.
“When did you get a smart mouth?”
“More like when did I get bold enough to share it with you.”
“Don’t get too bold,” Arwin cautioned. Despite the warning, a grin was sneaking its way onto her lips. “Take my hand, I’ll need the physical contact to get you through the shift. Don’t let go.”
Vi took her hand and refrained from pointing out that this would be the third time she’d passed through the shift. If Sarphos kept their secret up until the end, so would Vi. Even if one very big, Taavin-shaped secret was about to come to light.
Heart racing, Vi closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, allowing Arwin to guide her through. It seemed like a single step now—the transition between kingdom and forest becoming easier each time. Like waking from a dream, Vi blinked into the bright morning light.
She instantly raised a hand, shielding her eyes. She and Sarphos had only ever sneaked out at night. The light of the Twilight Kingdom was perpetually dim, the majority of illumination coming from unnatural sources.
“Your eyes will take a little longer to adjust… It’s been a while since they’ve seen the sun. But don’t worry, you’ll be back to normal in no time.”
Vi had an increasing amount to worry about, none of which had to do with her eyes. Squinting, Vi trying to discern her bearings. But there was nothing familiar. Trees, as far as the eye could see, and not the slightest bit of sound from the stream.
“Where are we?” Vi tried to ask calmly.
“Right near the western edge of the Twilight Forest.” Arwin pointed. “We’re about half a day away from Toris. It’s a small fishing and trading town notorious for being a pirate stopover. We should be able to pick up a vessel there to get us to the Isle of Frost.” Vi didn’t miss the slight grimace at the mention of Adela’s stronghold.
“Can we return to where Sarphos showed you the tear?” Vi’s markings on the trees should still be there. With them, she could find her way back to Taavin.
“Why?”
“There’s something I stashed in a cave near there. I want to retrieve it,” Vi explained delicately.
“Oh, fine.” Arwin rolled her eyes. “Come on then.”
Scooping up Vi’s hand once more and gripping it tightly, Arwin tugged her through the trees. Vi barely had time to close her eyes and hold her breath. Her lungs were on fire in a moment and her ears popped fr
om the shifting pressure. But as quickly as it came, the uncomfortable sensation of the shift vanished and Vi opened her eyes once more to what had become a more familiar stretch of forest. She could hear the stream in the distance, and see the markings on the trees.
“Right, this way.” Vi started forward, gripping the straps of her satchel. It was going to be a miracle if they didn’t all end up dead. “Listen, Arwin… I want you to know how grateful I am for you coming.”
“I have my own agenda.”
“Yes, well… I still appreciate it.” Vi continued. “And I hope that, on this journey, we can trust each other.”
Arwin snorted. “I suppose I can trust you not to get yourself killed. Barely.”
The cave came into view and Vi pointed at it. “That’s where my things are. Wait here?”
“Get what you need and let’s be on our way.” Arwin folded her arms, resting against a tree, impatient.
Vi moved hastily, not wanting to sour the woman’s mood even further. Uttering every prayer and good luck wish she knew, Vi crossed to the cave, set the scythe aside, and squeezed through the opening.
“Vi.” Taavin’s voice cut through her thoughts.
“Taavin.” Vi looked over to him in the dim glow of Sarphos’s stone. They stared at each other for what felt like an hour—long enough that Arwin should’ve come investigating. After their last parting, Vi was even more painfully aware of all that was left unsaid.
“Are you alone?” Taavin’s eyes shifted over her shoulder.
“No. And it’s not Sarphos who’s with me.”
“What happened?” Taavin’s tone sobered and Vi wondered for a brief second if he’d thought she betrayed him.
“I can’t explain fully right now, there’s no time, and this introduction will be uncomfortable enough as it is. I’d rather not do it in a confined space.” Vi sighed and rested her palm on his chest. “You have to trust me, all right? Please know, no matter what, I will never seek to bring you harm. Trust me like I trust you.”
“What’re you talking about?” His heart was beating faster underneath her fingers.
“You said it yourself—the morphi are not friendly to Fallor or Adela. Turns out, they have some unfinished business with the pirate queen and one of the royal guards wants to come and settle the score.”
“What?” Taavin’s voice dropped to a panicked whisper. He spoke so fast that Vi didn’t have the chance to tell him Arwin stood far enough away that there was no way she could hear. “We can’t bring a morphi along, especially a morphi royal. First, you saw how Sarphos reacted to me. Second, if they leave their kingdom, they risk exile. Third, they risk being hunted by any Faithful we run into.”
“I know the risks. Moreover, she knows the risks.” Vi dropped her hand, fighting the urge to glare at him and failing. “And so do you. You told me yourself of your hand in creating the decrees that would lead to the Faithful hunting her.”
“And I told you not to judge me for the things I did in captivity.”
Vi bit the inside of her lower lip and focused on the present. “We don’t have a choice in this. Adela’s Isle of Frost is shrouded by the morphi shift and I’m not about to leave getting to my father up to chance and hope that one of Raspian’s tears allows us through. Getting to the Twilight Kingdom nearly killed me. That’s not a viable strategy for us.”
Taavin pressed his lips together into a thin line. Vi knew when she’d won. There was no better counter-argument. She’d run through every possibility already; having a morphi on their side was their best chance.
With that, she left the cave, trusting him to follow. But she didn’t look back. Instead, she focused on quickly slinging the scythe over her shoulder once more and walking toward Arwin, trying to position herself right between the two.
Vi knew the moment Taavin emerged based on the change in Arwin’s expression. It was a darkly fascinating thing to behold. She went from bored and grumpy, to horrified, to the picture of loathing in about an instant.
Spear in hand, Arwin let out a crazed cry and began sprinting toward Taavin.
Chapter Seventeen
Crouching some and digging in her heels, Vi braced herself as the woman approached, shifting to the side slightly and narrowly missing the point of her spear. She grabbed Arwin’s shoulders with both hands, knowing full well she couldn’t hold Arwin anywhere for any amount of time if she didn’t want to be held.
“I need you to listen to me.”
“Vi, you have no idea who that is.” Arwin twisted from her grasp. Bringing an arm around, she pushed Vi behind her as if Vi was in danger.
“I know who that is.” Vi gripped Arwin’s forearm and bicep, clinging to the woman, futilely trying to stop her from moving.
“What have you done to her?” she growled at Taavin. Vi watched the man’s eyes dart between her and Arwin, no doubt debating if or when he should step in. “What hold do you have over her?”
“He hasn’t done anything to me, Arwin, listen!” Vi yanked at her arm. It was as unflinching as one of the giant vines in the forests of Soricium. “He’s…” Her eyes drifted to Taavin for a long second. So much was left outstanding and unsaid between them. But now wasn’t the time. And sorting through that mess would be a lot harder if he was dead. “He’s my friend.”
“Your friend?” Arwin wrenched her arm free and stepped back, facing Vi without letting Taavin fully out of her sight. “Your friend is the Voice?”
“I can explain.” Vi held up her hands.
“You lied to me,” Arwin seethed, raising her spear. “You lying traitor. Curse you, your father, and your family.”
“I didn’t lie.” Vi worked to keep herself calm even as Arwin spit venom.
“You said you weren’t Faithful!”
“I’m not.”
“No? You’re just aligned with the worst of them all.” Arwin swung her spear in Taavin’s direction, though her eyes remained glued on Vi. When she spoke, it was with a bitter detachment that hurt more than any word. “I knew you were seeking to infiltrate and betray us from the first moment I laid eyes on you and I was right.”
Vi allowed her blood to run cold. She knew the pain on Arwin’s face all too well. It was the look of someone you trusted showing their hand and coming up with cards you never dreamed they’d be holding.
“If I had wanted to harm the Twilight Kingdom, I could’ve,” Vi said calmly. “If I had wanted to lead a legion of Faithful though the tears in the shift, I could’ve.” Vi actually doubted that. It had been the watch that had protected her through the tear. But Arwin didn’t need to know that. “If Taavin had wanted to move against your people, he would’ve.”
“The Faithful are devious. They don’t function based on logic or reason. They act on hate alone.”
“You don’t have to like us,” Vi spoke through Arwin’s justified rage. “None of us are pretending to be friends. Our only link is that we’re all working toward the same thing.”
“I will never be aligned with a Faithful, and especially not the Voice.”
“You already are. I need him to teach me how to bring down Raspian, but I need you to get to my father. And you need both of us to settle your old score if you ever want to return home.” They didn’t have to like each other. They had to work together. That would be good enough for Vi and it should be good enough for Arwin. If they all knew where they stood from this moment forward, there would be no more betrayal, because there wouldn’t be any real trust between them. They would trust in their shared goals, and nothing more.
“I don’t need you,” Arwin seethed. She swung her weapon and pointed the blade right at the soft spot of Vi’s throat. “My father may have told me not to come back until I settled my outstanding score, but I think he’d make an exception for bringing him the body of the Voice and his accomplice.”
“Harm her and you’ll never see the Twilight Kingdom again,” Taavin cautioned dangerously. “Harm her and I will ensure every sword and sorcerer at my disposal
will rally against you.”
“You will not leave here alive.”
“Do not underestimate me.” Taavin raised his hands. Vi could feel the power gathering under his palms, ready to be brought to life with a word. Power Sarphos had nursed back into him at Vi’s command.
One wrong word, and the whole situation would explode into violence and death.
“Listen, both of you, just listen!” Vi pleaded, trying not to move too much. She would’ve suspected talking would be much harder with a spear through her throat. “We all want the same thing! This doesn’t have to be personal.”
“You made it personal,” Arwin growled. “And I will never want the same thing as a Faithful.”
“You do though,” Taavin interjected before Vi could. “And I could give it to you.”
“What’re you talking about?” Arwin’s eyes narrowed at him, but she had yet to attack, which Vi took as a victory.
“What do you want more than anything else?” Taavin asked. “You want to see Ulvarth dead, no? You want an end to the Faithful as conquerors? I can deliver that opportunity to you.”
Vi watched Arwin shift her white-knuckled grip on the weapon. She was holding the spear so hard that it squeaked as her calloused hands rubbed against the polished wood. The woman seemed suspended in place by her own tension.
“How?” Arwin demanded finally.
“I will give you access to Ulvarth. I know where he lives and works. I know the people who attend him. And I know the back doors that connect them all.”
“You lie. No such back doors exist into the Archives of Yargen. The place is a fortress.”
Vi had never thought of a library as a fortress. Her image of the Archives, and just where Taavin had spent the majority of his life, were shifting faster than a morphi.