by Elise Kova
Something worth holding onto as long as time allowed.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The scythe sat stretched across Vi’s lap. Beside her, Taavin manned the helm as she ran her fingers along the smooth crystal. Magic swirled underneath her fingertips, trapped beneath its glassy surface. She’d spent the day running drills on deck with Arwin again and still felt no more confident using the weapon for battle.
“You’ll master its use,” Taavin said encouragingly from her side, as though he read her mind. “And I’ll be scouring every book on the crystal weapons the moment we return to the Archives of Yargen for anything that could help you.” Taavin pushed his sleeves back and massaged both his wrists, the golden bracelet shining in the light of Vi’s flame, before grabbing the wheel again.
Suddenly, Arwin emerged from the cabin like a wild animal. She bolted on deck, hair a golden bird’s nest, stance alert, head jerking about before her attention landed on them. “It’s close.”
“Is it?” Vi reached for her journal, opening it up to the maps she’d been referencing. They’d been sailing for about two days, so it wasn’t impossible. Her maps were beginning to get as murky as the dark waters spreading beneath the hull of their boat the further they got from the Twilight Kingdom.
“I know the shift better than anything.” Arwin turned slowly, looking to the left of the bow. “I can feel its magic in the air.”
“How far do you think it is exactly?” Vi flipped her pages, looking at the sketched grid lines and trying to estimate where on their course they were.
“I’ll know soon enough. I’m going to fly ahead and see if I can find it. I’ll scout out a good point to enter through the shift.” Arwin began to run for the bow. “For now, just stay on course. I’ll find you!”
Before Vi or Taavin had a chance to reply, Arwin had leapt from the vessel, shifting into her form as a nightwisp and taking to the skies. Vi followed her with her eyes as long as she could. But she quickly lost sight of the woman in the darkness of the early morning. She didn’t have a working clock at this moment, but the days seemed to be getting shorter, the nights longer.
Arwin returned a short time later, landing on two feet after a pulse of magic and starting right for the helm. “I’ll take it from here to get us through the shift.” Taavin stepped aside and allowed her to take the wheel. “There’s a cliffside I think we can dock by without anyone seeing, near some caves that’ll take us right into their stronghold.”
“Will they know when we’ve crossed through the shift?” Taavin asked Arwin.
“I don’t think so. They didn’t seem aware when I crossed through in my nightwisp form.” An intense look of focus was painted on her brow.
Vi stared forward at the open sea, her heart already racing. All of her maps—now safely tucked in her pack below deck—told her that somewhere in this vast ocean of nothingness was an island. But as far as she could see on the dark horizon, there was nothing but water below and a sea of stars above. The horizon remained unbroken.
There was a growing electricity in the air. The sensation of a terrible storm on the horizon pulled Vi’s hairs on end from head to toe. She glanced over to Taavin, who wore as intense a look as Arwin’s. Did he feel it too? Was she the only one who felt the edges of something transformative about to occur?
“Brace yourselves” was the only warning Arwin gave.
The ship rocked with a violent pulse of magic. Rigging groaned, the sail slumped in the still air. The world around them shifted: stars brightened, light kissed the edge of the horizon before darkening once more to the near-blackness of the hours before dawn. Vi kept her eyes open and held her breath.
Like a veil lifted, the Isle of Frost shimmered into existence before them.
It looked like a great storm on the horizon, a frigid mass of ice and snow fogging the air around a giant, craggy rock. Vi squinted, trying to see through the haze, but it was nearly impossible. The sea itself had begun to freeze all around the coast, the waves calmed by the unnatural atmosphere of the shift.
Somewhere, in all that, was her father.
Another pulse shook her. But Vi kept her feet under her, using only a hand on the deck rail next to her for support. She kept her eyes forward, waiting for the pop in her ears that signaled the shift passing.
“We’re through. Take back the helm,” Arwin said. She jumped down from the quarterdeck, heading to the bow much as she had before. “Full sails. There’s not much in the way of wind here. Follow me.” The woman leapt over the water and took to the skies as a bird.
“I have the helm.” Vi rushed to Arwin’s prior position.
“I’ll man the sails.”
They rounded the island, the only marker of their vessel the white foamy trail that faded into blackness behind them. A blustery gale picked up as they plunged into the perpetual frost swirling the coast. It crept under her clothes, clawing at every inch of exposed skin. Vi knew this cold. She’d felt it before on Adela’s vessel.
She pushed the spark forward and felt its warmth bloom under her skin. Heat radiated off of her, melting snow to rain before it could settle on her. By the time they reached the ice that ran the perimeter of the coast line, her hair was slick against her face and neck.
“Shouldn’t they have more patrols?” Vi asked in a low voice. She’d seen the first specks of light in the distance at the far end of the isle. “It seems too empty, too quiet.”
“I imagine they feel fairly confident in their barriers… and the fact that no one in their right mind would walk into Adela’s stronghold.”
“Good to know we’re all mad.” Despite the weight of the situation, a grin struggled to form on her cheeks. “Here I thought I was alone in that.”
“You’re not alone. Not in any way.” The thin line of his mouth almost made a smile.
Arwin continued to glide ahead, banking and turning on the swirling currents that surrounded the island. Vi worked to keep up, following her as closely as possible. But as the ice became thicker—its frozen tendrils reaching out into the surf—she began to fear for the vessel’s integrity.
Luckily, Arwin seemed to think much the same. She did a wide loop before returning to their small ship.
“I think we should tie off here,” Arwin announced. “The cliffs will keep their eyes off us, and there are no outposts I could find on this side of the isle. Those caves will be our way in.” She pointed to a dark spot tucked into the side of a cliff.
Arwin and Taavin made quick work of striking the sails as Vi debated if she should take the scythe with her or not. Ultimately, she decided against it. She wasn’t skilled enough yet to use it, and carrying it onto the island only risked it falling into Adela’s hands.
After disembarking, Arwin guided them forward toward the yawning darkness of the cave. “I only scouted far enough to make sure this was an unguarded route. Once we cross onto the hillside beyond, we’re all on our own.”
Slowly, twilight filtered in, penetrating the blackness. It was carried on the icy wind and snow that piled at the mouth of the cave. The three emerged into a snow bank up to their knees, looking down over a small slope that ended with what could only be described as a pirate city.
Much like Beauty’s Bend, the Isle of Frost was crescent-shaped, surrounding a lagoon packed to the brim with ships of all shapes and sizes. The coast of the lagoon was riddled with waterways. They snaked through ice-covered buildings, functioning as main thoroughfares for the pirate city below.
“How many pirates do you think there are?”
“Too many,” Taavin said grimly.
“Enough to make our odds worse than grim.”
Vi found herself agreeing with Arwin’s assessment. This was certain suicide. They were walking into the hornet’s nest. “Shall we, then?”
“Today seems as good a day to die as any other.” Arwin gripped her spear tightly. “I’m going to dismantle the shift and then I’m back to the boat. Good luck finding your father.”
“Wait, aren’t you—”
“Going to help you?” Arwin interrupted. “I’ve helped you both more than enough to get here and I’ve my own business to settle. Hopefully, I’ll see you both, plus a fourth, before things get bad enough that I have to set sail. It’d be a pain sailing that thing alone, so don’t die.”
Before Vi could get in another word, the shift pulsed around her and Arwin took to the skies.
Vi and Taavin trudged through the snow, sliding on packed ice and tripping on hidden roots and rocks. Vi glanced behind them, trying to cement the path of their return journey in her mind. The falling snow and blustering wind were already filling the tracks they’d made.
They stepped onto the narrow walkway that lined a canal. People were busy going about their business as they would in any city. She heard music drifting over the wind and snow from taverns; laughter rang out in harmony to a shouting match. Vi saw a man slam his hand down on a card table in a gaming parlor as they passed.
It felt chillingly normal.
She looked for someone who looked like they knew what they were doing. Vi scanned the men and women on the streets, and in the boats traveling the canals. She searched the signs and doorways for any indicators, no matter how subtle.
If Adela was smart—which Vi had no doubt she was—she wouldn’t let everyone know where she was keeping a prized prisoner. Even if the whole isle knew Adela had the Emperor Solaris, she would keep his exact location a secret. Which meant Vi needed someone—
She stopped dead in her tracks, a flash of red in the twilight catching her eye.
“What?” Taavin asked.
“I saw an elfin’ra.”
“What?” he echoed, but this time the word said a whole lot more.
“Come on.” Vi started for the building she saw the man slip into.
“I don’t think we should be going toward the people trying to maim or murder us in order to bring about the end of the world.”
“This whole island is trying to maim or murder us,” Vi whispered hastily back.
“Yes, but the whole island can’t bring about an evil god with our blood,” Taavin muttered.
They slipped into a narrow walkway between two buildings that ended in a cliff-side. At their backs were the cliffs they’d entered from—and if the bluffs before them were anything like those, then these too had countless passages winding within them, no doubt attached in some way to the building.
“What’re you looking for?” Taavin breathed, his back pressed against the wall as Vi leaned forward slightly to peer into a window.
“Anything.” It wasn’t a good answer, but her mind was moving too quickly. She barely had time to form her thoughts, let alone explain them to him. The elfin’ra she’d seen was inside, standing at the side of a table surrounded by four others—one more elfin’ra, a morphi, and what appeared to be two humans.
Vi brought a finger to her lips, motioning to Taavin for silence. Leaning against the wall on the other side of the window, Vi pressed her ear to the frosted wood of the building. She covered her other ear with a hand, closing her eyes and focusing on the muffled words, only catching every few.
“… patrols are…”
“So far there’s no sign…”
“They’ll… up soon…”
“Adela will want… keep them alive…”
“… prisoner?”
“Guard change will happen… far he’s being quiet and…”
“… keep a close eye.”
Vi struggled to piece together the missing blanks. She listened until her pounding heart drowned out the soft words. Was she hearing correctly? Or was her mind playing tricks on her and feeding her what she wanted to hear?
They had little else to go on. Her suspicion that Adela would keep the elfin’ra close was supported by the conversation. Surely they were talking about her and Taavin showing no sign of coming to rescue her father.
There was a shuffling of chairs and Vi leaned forward slightly. Whatever little council she’d been overhearing disbanded. The two elfin’ra headed back, the others started for the door. Vi motioned for Taavin and they stepped back further into the shadows of the alley as half the group left the building, none the wiser that the very people they were on the lookout for were right under their noses.
Vi kept her ear against the wall, hearing the creaking of wood, the closing of doors, the dull metallic thud of locks being engaged and disengaged. She ran toward the back of the building, getting ahead of the elfin’ra moving through it. Leaning forward, Vi peered through the frost clouding the window of a dark room.
She squinted, making out shapes moving within it. A flash of red. Vi pulled back, pressing herself flat against the wall. Taavin mirrored her motions, trusting her without word or explanation.
“… thought I saw something.” One of the voices from earlier drew near.
Vi wriggled her fingers, keeping her magic at the ready. The spark was eager, curling like lightning right at the edge of each of her movements.
Another voice said something Vi couldn’t make out.
She glanced at the window, trying to make herself as flat and small as possible. The heat radiating off her beaded the frost into water at the bottom edge. Please don’t let them notice, she silently prayed.
“It’s nothing.” Footsteps thudded away, carrying the voice with it.
Vi closed her eyes, breathing, counting to twenty. The room was completely still for the second half of her count. She dared to lean forward, peeking through the lower corner of the window.
The room was empty.
Vi stood, stepping around Taavin, pressing her ear back to the building. There were no more sounds of doors. No more footsteps.
“We’re going in.” Vi started for the main street with wide, hasty steps. She had no idea when, or if, the previous three people would return. Or if another group would soon arrive.
No one stopped them as they rounded the front. Vi’s hand fell on the metal handle, pushing on it. But it didn’t move.
A scream wriggled up in her throat, but it escaped as a few hushed words.
“Juth calt.” The metal around the lock splintered, cracking. Vi pushed her way in before anyone on the street could look in their direction. Rushing over to the table, Vi propped up a chair against the door underneath the handle. It wouldn’t stop someone for very long, but it would at least keep the now-broken door closed at a glance, and make noise if anyone tried to follow behind them.
“Was that wise?” Taavin asked, as though she could somehow change her actions now. Vi shot him a dumb look that seemed to communicate the fact. “The morphi have a way to sense when Lightspinning has been used in their lands. What if Fallor has set up the same here?”
Vi hadn’t considered that. “Even if he did, it’s likely as Arwin said: he’s the only one who would’ve been able to sense it. And even if there are morphi here who can sense it—they have Lightspinners on their crew, remember?”
Taavin nodded, looking over his shoulder warily.
“Juth calt,” she said again to the next door that barred their progress, glancing over her shoulder at Taavin and making sure he followed her into a narrow hallway. Vi continued to press straight back through the building and toward the cliff wall.
A short humming sensation pulsed through the air. The air pressure changed and Vi’s ears popped. She rubbed them; Taavin did the same. They exchanged a look as a bell tolled, its frantic, high-pitched ringing echoed over the whole city.
“Any chance that isn’t for us?” he asked grimly.
“Us or Arwin, and it doesn’t matter which.” Vi pushed forward, no longer holding back with her magic. “Juth calt!” It exploded from her, knocking down the final, heavily locked door at the end of the hall that led to the back room she’d seen from the alleyway.
“A dead end?” Taavin turned, looking back the way they came. So far, no one was in pursuit. But Vi suspected it wouldn’t be long until someone was. If the pirates knew she would b
e coming for her father, then they knew right where she’d be headed.
“No, there’s a passage here.” She knocked along the back wall softly. Her hastening heartbeat led to trembling hands. But she tried to keep her rapping as quiet as possible. The pirates may know they were here given Arwin’s presumed progress on the shift, but they hopefully didn’t know where they were just yet. “Help me look.”
Taavin lifted a hand. Vi felt the swell of magic like a rolling tide around her ankles. “Uncose.”
The unfamiliar word rattled her bones. Magic ignited around his fingers, exploding forward from the glyph—most of it bouncing off the walls in an array of sparks. However some sank in like water slipping through a grate.
“How…”
“Uncose means to expose truth,” he explained, starting for the wall where the magic had vanished. “It’s a word Yargen recently gave me.”
“Convenient, when you were looking for a way out of the Archives of Yargen.” Taavin pushed in a knot of wood and the whole panel slipped open—jagged at the edges to completely hide the passage behind. He motioned for her to take the lead and Vi did so without hesitation. “Can I use that word?”
“Unfortunately not… It’s a word given to me by the Goddess herself. I doubt I could teach you if I tried.”
“If we survive this, I may want you to try.” Her voice dropped low as they started into the narrow passage. It was rough-hewn and natural in appearance—much like the caves they’d entered through—but this one was far better maintained and… she heard voices.
“… hear the bells?”
Vi recognized the voice from one of the two elfin’ra from earlier. She slowed as amber light danced off the outlines of stones, pressing her back against the wall. Taavin did the same on the wall opposite.
A second voice. “Do you know what it means?”