by Elise Kova
What does she matter to you?
Everything.
Their lips brushed, feather-light. His mouth quivered slightly, and a groan escaped him. Taavin’s fingers curled around her jaw and he pulled her closer.
The scythe was forgotten, sliding off her knees as Vi shifted her weight forward. He leaned back and she followed him. She couldn’t breathe if she didn’t know her lungs were in time with his. She couldn’t move if his hands weren’t on her. Taavin laid back on the leafy ground, Vi atop him. He was light and life and everything she’d ever wanted without knowing it.
She was clumsy and inexperienced. But what she lacked in confidence she made up for in enthusiasm. She allowed every shift, kiss, and caress to fill her, fuel her.
If they were destined for heartbreak, she would steal as many nights as she could along the way.
It took two days, but on the afternoon of the second, Toris at last came into view.
The town was set aside a small inlet. Cliffs stood tall toward the sea, but they gradually sloped down as they wrapped around the sloping hills to the valley where Toris proper sat. A winding dirt path connected the town with a larger stoned road that ran from the Twilight Forest out into the great plains beyond—plains mottled with dark brown patches that looked alarmingly like decay.
“Grim little place, isn’t it?” Arwin muttered. She was still barely on speaking terms with them.
“I suppose,” Vi agreed purely for the sake of not starting an argument. She didn’t see anything that grim. It looked like any other town.
“It’s been a sheer delight to patrol these past few days,” Arwin continued. She’d spent most of her time ahead, rather than with them. The scouting served a purpose they hoped to capitalize on, but Vi also suspected it had given Arwin an excuse to get away from them. “But the pirates haven’t moved since I first flew in; they’re on the ship in the morning, wreak havoc in town, drinks at the brewery, back at night.”
“You’re sure they haven’t seen or sensed you?” Taavin asked.
“I’m certain I would know if they had. One of them would’ve been after me in an instant if he’d known.”
“Who?” Vi asked.
“Another morphi. He’s been flying the edges of the Twilight Forest relentlessly.”
“Fallor?”
Arwin rounded on Vi the moment she said his name. “You know him?”
“He’s been after me.” Vi watched Arwin closely. There were emotions Vi couldn’t quite put her finger on in Arwin’s reaction. Fallor was obviously an exiled morphi who had betrayed his people, but there was more than that in Arwin’s expression. This felt personal. “Do you know him?”
“He’s an exile of the Twilight Kingdom.” Arwin backed away from Vi, looking to the cliffs.
“I know that. But what I mean is, was he anyone… significant in the Twilight Kingdom before he was exiled?” Vi clarified. “Anyone important?”
“Not to the masses.”
“But to you.” Taavin keyed into the unspoken implication.
“Back off, Voice,” Arwin snarled. “Whoever he was to me is none of your business.”
Vi’s lips parted as her jaw relaxed. She put all of Arwin’s past actions, statements, reactions together in a second.
“He’s Sarphos’s brother.” The family likeness was undeniable, now that she saw it. “He’s the one you were engaged to.”
Who else would make a woman like Arwin leave her home and her post as guard to her father? Who else would have committed such a deep betrayal? Vi knew firsthand how hard it was to crack through Arwin’s callous exterior. If she let someone in, and that person betrayed her, they would be forever dead to her.
Vi could relate.
Arwin’s grip on her staff tightened. Her eyes were glued on Toris.
“What of it?” she muttered.
“We don’t need personal feelings getting in the—”
“I will not have you lecture me, Voice.” Arwin glared between him and Vi, a look that said she had seen them waking side by side more than once. “This is personal. All of it is.”
So much for being just business, Vi thought grimly.
“Yes, Fallor was my betrothed. Yes, I was young and didn’t see him for what he was. I made the mistake of trusting him. Those are the faults I’ve had to live with for years since.”
“He was the one to set up the shift around the Isle of Frost, wasn’t he?” Vi asked.
“Yes. He wanted to learn the royal shift—the way we pulled the Twilight Kingdom out of reality. He’d always been fascinated by the notion… but something changed. Mere curiosity became a relentless pursuit. I didn’t know then, that Adela had already got to him. And fool that I was, I didn’t want to lose him, so I gave in.”
Vi stared at Arwin’s detached and determined eyes. The woman had her jaw clamped so tightly, the muscles in her cheek twitched.
“When the time comes, I have to be the one to do it.” She was talking about murdering a man she’d loved enough to marry at one point. “Neither of you will take this from me. I have to be the one to kill him.”
“Are you sure?” Taavin asked, far too gently for a heart as ragged as Arwin’s. “You and he were—”
“He’s yours,” Vi interrupted. Arwin looked directly at her now with all the same murderous intensity. “Adela took something—someone—from me, too. A woman who was a sister to me until I learned of her true nature. She was taken in by Adela, just as Fallor was. I had the satisfaction of revenge in her death. You will have your satisfaction today.”
Arwin gave a small nod, the beginnings of what looked like a new foundation of shared understanding in her eyes. If Vi had read it correctly, it was coming from the last place she would expect. Without a word more, Arwin leapt from the crest of the hill on which they were standing. The shift rippled around her, and she was gone in a blink, a bird soaring off down to the town, ready to implement their plans.
Chapter Nineteen
“Jayme?” Taavin asked as they started down the sloping field toward the main road into Toris.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Vi looked over the crops and land as they passed between fenced pasture and open field alike. An uncomfortable quiet had overtaken the hill. The houses were still; not a single farmhand was out tilling soil.
“I haven’t asked about her because I assumed she’d decided to stay behind, but you said—”
Vi spun, rounding on him. “I said I don’t want to talk about it. She was a traitor, nothing more.” Her voice dropped softer as she tried to quell the rage. Vi wrapped her hand around his. “I don’t want her name coming from your mouth. I don’t want to associate anything of you with betrayal.” She’d already toed that dangerous line once on finding out the true nature of the Faithful.
“Are you all right though?” Taavin held her fast as Vi tried to pull away. “Jayme was—”
“Jayme was no one. She was a traitor. She betrayed my family. It’s because of her Adela has my father. It’s because of her Adela had me. I gave her a traitor’s death and I don’t want to speak about her ever again.”
“Very well.” Taavin released her and Vi quickly started on again.
It felt like she was running. But she didn’t quite know from what. Just the mere thought of Jayme filled her with brutal darkness—not unlike the darkness that seemed to be settling on the land.
They quickly discovered the reason why no one was working the fields—the houses were abandoned. What crops there were had rotted where they stood. Tilled soil had turned to hard, cracked mud, small deserts breaking up what Vi assumed was once fertile farmland. An ox rotted where it fell, eye-sockets oozing white.
“Raspian’s power grows,” Taavin said, giving voice to their shared thought.
“How much longer do you think the world has?” Vi wondered aloud, gripping the strap attached to the scythe.
“Not long enough.”
When they arrived in the town, there was no main gate to enter T
oris. The buildings crept up from the earth. Most of the construction was waddle and daub, an ashy clay the same color as the raw earth of the central town square. By all appearances, it was not a wealthy place—but a few buildings boasted shingled roofs or intricately decorated glass in their windows. Where would money like that come from in a place like this? Nowhere good, Vi thought wryly.
“Good luck,” Taavin whispered. “I’ll keep you in sight. Stick to the plan.”
“I will, and good luck to you too,” she breathed back, before they promptly headed in opposite directions. Taavin wandered off to the side and Vi continued along the town square until it evolved into a market that extended right down to the docks.
Here, Vi could appreciate the majesty of Norin.
There were only two main docks and neither could tie up anything larger than a medium-sized vessel. The larger ones were anchored in the sheltered bay formed by the cliff sides, or further still, out at sea. Only dinghies were tied up at the docks.
It seemed incredibly… small. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but after the greatest port in the world, followed by a magical city of twilight, Toris seemed lackluster. Though Vi supposed there were average or below-average towns everywhere, no matter how fantastical certain elements of the world were.
“Don’t just stop in the road, girl.” A man pushing a wheelbarrow laden with feed veered around her. “Daydreamin’ kids.”
Vi quickly stepped to the side and mumbled an apology. She positioned herself by the side of a building where she could see the whole market. She scanned the seabirds on the docks and the silhouettes against the late afternoon sky, looking for Arwin or Fallor, but Vi saw neither. Not that Vi could tell Arwin apart from a normal bird. The oil-slick plumage of the nightwisp was common in this region of Meru.
She settled into Step One of the plan: observe and be noticed.
After an hour of normalcy, Vi debated if she should move elsewhere in the town. She’d taken two laps around the market trying to make herself visible, and was just about to wander the docks when the sound of shouting filled the air.
Vi glanced over her shoulder and into the small store she’d been passing. Two men argued within, nearly coming to blows. The larger of the two scooped the smaller by the collar, pushing him out.
“Get out and stay out, you bloody cheat.” The store clerk? Building owner? Gambling pit master?
“Just because you lose doesn’t make someone a cheat.” The man stumbled, but recovered before he ended up face-first in the mud. The larger man was already heading back inside with a shake of his head. “The nerve of some people,” the shorter man muttered. His eyes drifted to Vi. A smile slowly spread across his lips. “All you want to do is play a game of cards and they cast you out, am I right?”
She hummed noncommittally, looking back to the market.
“Say, you wouldn’t be interested in a game of cards, would you?” The man walked over, despite her showing no interest in him. That was a positive sign.
“I’m not really one for cards.” She looked him up and down, trying to remember every detail Arwin had recited after her scouting. Could she be confident this was one of Fallor’s men?
“Come now, that can’t be true. I’ll buy you a drink and we can play a game of cards—low stakes, I promise. We all enjoy a good game of cards now and then.”
“Buy me a drink from there?” Vi pointed to the brewery.
“Only place in town.” He gave a hearty laugh. As he tilted his head back, the collar of his shirt shifted, revealing the edge of a tattoo—three lines disappearing under fabric. A trident, she was sure.
Vi made a show of debating the proposition. But her mind was already made up. She had accomplished Step Two of the plan: find one of Adela’s men.
“Perhaps you’re right.” She tried to make her agreement sound reluctant. “It’s been a while since I let loose.”
“Excellent, this way!” He linked his elbow with hers and pulled her off across the market.
Vi skipped a step to get in pace with him. She tried to take a quick glance around the market. There were shopkeepers talking with farmers about the harvest, rumors being swapped by two old men sitting at the docks… but no indication of Taavin or Arwin.
They’d better be playing their parts and in their positions.
Because Vi was about to initiate Step Three: offering herself up on a platter to Adela.
Vi would make herself an easy target and lure the pirates into a false sense of security. Then, when they were busy apprehending her, Taavin and Arwin would strike. With the pirates taken care of, they would steal their vessel.
Simple enough, and it was going off without a hitch so far.
Vi followed her escort into a dimly lit tavern. There were a few patrons scattered throughout, each scarier-looking than the last. Two burly men were seated at the far end of the bar. Another table was filled with a loud group well into their cups. Two others played darts at the back wall.
If Arwin and Taavin were to be believed about this town, most if not all were pirates—though not all Adela’s men. Toris was a quaint fishing town on the surface, hub for the trade and sale of pirated goods underneath.
“What’ll you have?” The man sat at one of the bar stools.
Vi did the same, feeling her legs slide into the divots made by countless patrons’ thighs. “Whatever you’re having is fine.”
She needed to keep her wits about her and didn’t plan on drinking much. Vi took one more scan of the bar while he ordered—Taavin and Arwin were nowhere to be seen.
“Two ciders, then.” He motioned to the bartender. “The name’s Charlie, by the way.” Charlie raised his hand to his forehead, right between his brow, and lowered it. “And you are?”
“Marnie,” Vi lied deftly, not knowing where the name had come from so easily.
“And where do you hail from, Marnie? You certainly have a strange accent.”
“Monlan.” Her days studying maps in the Twilight Kingdom had paid off. Monlan was a land-locked city, one she doubted pirates got to often. But for good measure, Vi added, “But my father was from Hokoh, so I grew up with a weird mix of accents.” She knew very little about these cities other than the fact they were on opposite ends of the continent and surely produced different accents.
Vi was saved from having to elaborate further by the bartender placing down two heavy clay flagons.
“Two silver.”
Charlie produced two silver coins from his pocket, laying them on the bar. On the front of the coin was a simple carving of three circles, a line intersecting them—a symbol Vi actually recognized. Her eyes widened slightly, trying to take it all in before the bartender collected it. She’d seen that symbol carved into the old trees of Soricium.
At least, she thought she had… Because the coin was gone with the bartender in a blink.
“To new friends.” Charlie lifted his mug, holding it between them.
“To new friends.” Vi lifted her mug as well, tapping it lightly against his. She brought it to her lips, taking a long sip. It drank somewhat like an ale, small bubbles tickling her tongue. But this was sweeter and had a bright, fruity quality—almost like an apple juice. Placing it back on the bar, Vi stared in wonder and said, with no acting required, “It’s… really good.”
Charlie gave a hearty chuckle. “Toris has a good brewmaster. He does creative things with palm fruits. Horse and Cask is one of my favorite bars to stop in when I’m sailing my route.”
“What’s your route?” Vi asked, hoping the query sounded casual.
“Oh, I go all over,” he answered coyly. “I’ve been from Risen to Toris and beyond.”
“So you’re a trader, then?”
“Of a sort.” Pirate. Definitely a pirate. “Do you have an interest in sailing?”
“I do, actually.” Vi smiled sweetly.
“You must… Growing up in a land-locked city, I imagine a girl like you would find the high seas thrilling.” He gave
a nod to the scythe Vi had strapped to her back. “Though it looks like you may have been coming here to find work in a field. Too bad they’re all going barren.”
“I only told my father I was going to find work on a farm,” Vi said lightly and took a long sip of her drink. “I wouldn’t have traveled all the way from Monlan if I just wanted to farm.”
“Then what do you want?” He leaned in slightly.
“Adventure,” Vi said conspiratorially, leaning in as well. “You’re right, I do find the idea of traversing the ocean thrilling. But not half as thrilling as the men on those vessels.” She said it so effortlessly, so smoothly, that Vi even shocked herself. She was a far cry from the girl stumbling over her words at the Noru races.
His pupils dilated slightly—just as she’d seen Taavin’s do right before she was about to kiss him. Vi glanced down at his mouth, licking her lips for good measure. And then leaned away with a playful grin.
“I like the sound of that.” He gave her a smirk and was back to shuffling his deck. “So I know we discussed a game of cards, but let’s make it interesting, shall we?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“We could gamble for coin?” The way he said it told Vi he had no expectations of that actually happening. So she played right into those expectations.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much. It’d make for a boring game.” Vi made a show of thinking hard. “Say, if you’re a trader… your vessel must be nearby.”
“Anchored off the other side of the cliffs,” the fool announced proudly, further confirming all of Vi’s suspicions.
“Then how about this: if I win, you take me with you to wherever it is you’re going next?”
“And if I win?” The man asked with such obvious expectation. Vi hadn’t thought of that and she quickly rummaged her mind—but came up with nothing. Luckily, he had an idea for her. “How about you still come with me… but you’re not my guest. You’re my deck wench.”