by Elise Kova
“You’re right. You need to look into the future. And I know I must let you do this. Yet…” Taavin crossed over to her, scooping up her hands in his. His thumbs ran against her knuckles.
“Are you really the same person who had me sailing to Meru?” Vi said softly. “You fret over me leaving the castle now.”
“I’m not the same person.” He gazed at her through his lashes. “That man didn’t understand the cost of losing you—not for the world, and not for him.”
“But I am the same woman who made that journey,” she said tenderly, tightening her fingers around his. “I am the same woman who boarded a vessel and left her home behind, who fought pirates and won, who accidentally made crystals. I might look like those ninety-two other women, but I’m not. I’m me, Taavin. Regardless of who I look or sound like, I am unique. This chance, this very moment, is ours alone. Don’t condemn me for others’ failures.”
He nodded. “I know.” She wasn’t sure she could believe him. “Which is why I’ll merely ask you to be safe on this excursion.”
“I will.” His warming up to her boldness only made her feel all the guiltier for keeping her other actions regarding the Knights from him. But hopefully, by the time he learned of them, she would be telling him their future was secure.
The port of Norin was bustling at all hours of the day. A vessel was always coming in or leaving. Fish needed to be hauled for the morning’s market. Sailors looked to blow off steam before they returned to the sea.
Yet there was a unique quiet to the port at night. People went about their business with the hushed tones darkness brought. Most saw by the lights of lanterns at pubs, the glow of their pipes, or stars in the sky.
Vi was reminded of a different time she’d journeyed to the port of Norin in darkness. Jayme had been with her then. Those days had been her final moments on the Dark Isle of her world.
She paused, sweeping her eyes across the port, remaining alert, before tucking her head back down and starting off toward the oldest section of the docks. The salt covered stones beneath her feet had seen more history than libraries. And, if she was lucky, they would show her history yet to be made.
At the far end was the old dock, rotted and sagging. A mix of nostalgia and respect still kept its pylons in use, but only dinghies were tied up here now.
Vi stared out at the sea, envisioning what the scythe had shown her. She saw the slow curve of the land to her left, the cliff rising up to support the rich section of Norin.
“It was here,” Vi affirmed to herself. She glanced around. A man slumbered against a doorstep. The houses were dark. No eyes seemed to be on her. Still, her heart raced.
She crossed over to the sea wall and sat on its edge, her feet dangling just above the dark water. With one last glance around, Vi cupped her palms in her lap and summoned a mote of flame.
It didn’t take long before the world was overcome with white.
Color came into focus first. Then, blobs formed hazy shapes that quickly gained clarity and form. A mass of people moved together. They swayed and swirled in time to music Vi couldn’t hear.
Their faces were painted with expressions of joy. Hands clapped soundlessly. Golden strips of paper rained from the sky. Vi held out her hand, trying to catch a piece of confetti. But it fluttered straight through her.
Pennons bearing the seal of Solaris reached out for the breeze, their golden stitching picking up the sunlight. It was a celebration unlike any Vi had ever seen, in a place she had only ever imagined.
Surrounding her was a semi-circle of triangular bleachers that rose up like points on a sun. Men and women were packed within them, drinking, talking, cheering. She didn’t need to hear their joy; she could feel it. It was a palpable, pulsating thing.
The song stopped, and with it the dancing. The crowd turned their focus to the high stage lined by wide columns. This was the Sun Stage. She recognized it from the drawings Romulin had sent her.
Then, as if by thought, he appeared.
Every emotion welled in her all at once at the sight of her family. Her father led, mother at his right hand. His hair was salted as she remembered it. Her mother’s was perfectly coiffed. It was a trick of the mind, but Vi could almost smell the faint scent of eucalyptus that was always in their perfumes. Romulin was at their side, just as she remembered him.
Which meant…
Vi searched for her future self.
She wasn’t there.
Her heart started to race. When was this? What was this celebration for? Was she in the North or… Had she changed the future so dramatically that Vi Solaris was no longer a part of it?
Vi’s thoughts came to a screeching halt as Romulin collapsed.
The young man seized on the ground. Vi tried to take a step forward, but she was rooted to the spot. People were running around her, guards were being called. Her mother held her brother, hoisting him upward. Her father barked orders. Romulin’s head rolled back, his mouth hanging open like the gaping mouth of Raspian himself.
Red lines ran down his cheeks—tracks of bloody tears. They had the same glow as the red lightning cracking through the sky. Romulin’s sky blue eyes had gone milky, and a pale white foam oozed from his mouth.
Vi screamed. She screamed and screamed but no sound came. She flung every curse she knew at the world, at the heavens, at the injustice of it all. She screamed until there was nothing left to say, and the vision came collapsing back in on her.
She panted, back on the sea wall, her fire extinguished, her body doubled over on itself. Her throat was raw, so raw she could vividly imagine Raspian ripping into it. She slowly raised her head, staring out across the sea.
If the White Death still came for this land, she had changed nothing.
“No,” Vi rasped, forcing her spine to find strength enough to straighten. If her brother was the one who was diseased—not her mother—something had changed.
Vi pushed herself away from the wall, pulled her hood tight and started off, her bones shaking with every step.
She had begun to shift fate. But she hadn’t altered it enough. Saving Zira, working to thwart the Knights’ attention at the wedding, and getting the Sword of Jadar sooner than she ever had before… none of it was enough to stop Raspian from being set free.
Clenching her jaw, Vi glared at Twintle’s warehouse as she passed. Changing fate would take something bolder, and more daring, than anything she’d tried until now.
Chapter Twenty
“You aren’t experimenting as much with the sword lately,” Taavin observed.
“I know.” Vi yawned so wide her jaw popped. “I’m too tired these days.” Vi was nearly going cross-eyed from exhaustion.
“What has you burning the candle at both ends?” he asked thoughtfully.
“By day I fulfill my duties to the crown, enough to keep a low-profile here… I train with Zira, lunch with Fiera… and most evenings I have nightcaps with Deneya.” That wasn’t all she’d been doing at night.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.” Vi knew what he was about to say before he said it. It was a discussion that was creeping up more by the day. “You have the sword, Fiera has trusted you to hide it—you can leave.”
“If I leave too quickly, people will notice and might suspect I have the sword.”
“It’s been months since the wedding.”
“And all it takes is one suspicious act.” Vi gave him a tired smile. “Weren’t you the one telling me to be cautious?” She stepped behind a folding screen set before her closet, changing into a nightgown as she spoke.
Taavin averted his eyes. “I am, but at a certain point, inaction is just as risky.”
“Make up your mind.” Vi emerged from behind the screen with another yawn.
“At some point, you’ll have to take the sword and go.”
“I know. But I’ll do it when the time is right. And that time isn’t tonight.”
“Yes, I’ll let you sleep.” Taavin walked over, cupping h
er cheek thoughtfully. His eyes scanned her face. “Do try to get some rest tonight. You look exhausted.”
“I will.” The lie cut her gums on the way out. The smile that followed it hurt more.
“Sleep well.” Taavin leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, vanishing before he could lean away.
Vi stared at where he’d just been, steeping in the guilt. It wasn’t the right time to take the sword away. And it wasn’t the right time to get some sleep.
She went back behind the screen, changing into dark clothes and grabbing a blood red hood that matched Adeem’s description of the robes worn by the men and women who attended Twintle’s meetings. This way, she could blend in without need of an illusion. Vi wanted both hands free in case she needed to use her Lightspinning when she entered into the lion’s den.
Twintle had returned from his travels a week ago and Vi had been perching herself on a rooftop several down from his warehouse each night since. She suspected he’d call a meeting sooner rather than later and she wanted to be ready the second he did.
Her feet knew the way to the docks by heart. She’d practiced the route to and from the warehouse each night. She knew that when the time came, she would want to be able to run through the back alleys and keep off the main roads without second-guessing herself.
Tonight, she sank into the shadows of an alleyway as two men caught her eye—Twintle and Luke. They spoke to each other in hushed and hurried tones on their way to the dock, though Vi couldn’t make out any individual words. Vi waited until they were down the road before hurrying through a back alley to lean against the corner of a building to watch them proceed. The men were none the wiser to the woman following in their wake.
She took the back way around Twintle’s warehouse. There was only one entrance and exit, so Vi waited, crouched low, listening to the murmuring voices within and the footsteps approaching without.
Every man and woman uttered a soft phrase, “Rulliad,” before being permitted entry.
Rulliad meant loyalty in the language of old Mhashan. Really… one would think they would be more creative than that when it came to their passwords. Still, it made things easy.
Vi yanked the hood she’d fashioned over her head.
With nothing to protect her but confidence and trust in her magical skills, Vi strode to the entrance. Neither of the guards were the ones Vi met when she had come with Deneya, which made her wonder how often Twintle’s paranoia had him changing his hired swords. She hoped she and Deneya’s inspection hadn’t cost the others their jobs… but didn’t linger on the thought.
She had more important concerns.
“Good evening,” one of the guards said in Southern Common.
“Rulliad,” Vi replied without preamble. He gave a nod and she walked in.
Everyone gathered around the mostly open area with the stacks of crates. There wasn’t much mingling and most people kept to themselves. Not one person had lowered their hood, which made it easy for Vi to remain hidden.
“We’ll begin in another two minutes—we’re waiting on just one more,” Twintle said, stepping forward. He and Luke were the only two people who had lowered their hoods. Likely because everyone knew exactly who was behind the organization of this meeting. But there was safety in anonymity among the rest of the members—they couldn’t out each other if captured.
As soon as one more man entered, Twintle began as promised.
“I know it has been some time since we all last met. But today I come to you with exciting tidings.” Twintle turned to address the crowd in full. “I left our beloved city of Norin and returned to the Waste. There, I communed with the people we fight for. Those who still stand with the Mhashan we have always known.
“Here in this city, they call us extremists. Those beyond these walls see that if we are extreme, we are only extreme in our love for this land. Those beyond these walls stand by us, cheer us on, to stand by our rich heritage. Those beyond call us heroes.”
“Don’t be taken in by Solaris!” a man from across the room called out.
“Yes, yes my brothers and sisters, we are the ones impervious to the allure of Solaris lies. Solaris claims they stand for the West, but they are making the West poor with their demands of tithing to pay for the remnants of their war. They are the ones making the West weak by sending our girls and boys south to fight for their cities of stone and ice.”
“We shall stand against them!” another called.
The whole room was being worked into a frenzy by Twintle’s words. People shifted in place. Murmurs of support grew to outright cheers.
“We shall be the ones to stand against Solaris tyranny!” Luke stepped forward. “We shall be the ones who honor our oath to defend the poor. To upkeep tradition. And to honor the sacrifices of all those who came before us.”
“But we cannot do this with our glorious fervor alone.” Twintle’s voice dropped to a hush and everyone hung on his next words. Vi had never seen an orator quite like him. It was more than the skill of a virtuoso musician. Every man and woman Twintle had gathered was their own instrument, and he could play the orchestra. “To restore Mhashan to its former glory, we need a power that affirms our divine right.”
More whispers, all resounding to an eerily soft chant, as if everyone gathered was under some kind of spell. A single word passed from person to person in hushed tones: sword.
“Yes, we need the Sword of Jadar. The sword once bestowed by King Jadar on his magickless son. The sword that was destined to defend Mhashan. We are its rightful owners now that the blood-traitor princess has turned her back on our ways. And with the sword’s power, we can restore the throne to someone befitting of its honor. We will not be like the coward whore to the sun. We will unlock the power it was made to unleash on this world and with that power we will liberate ourselves from the tyranny of Solaris.”
Applause, cheers. Vi watched as some men got so overwhelmed with excitement they nearly threw off their hoods. It was a type of spell that had just as much power as Yargen’s words. Though Vi found herself immune. She watched it all unfold, trying to detach herself from the situation.
Yet in the back of her mind… a bonfire of rage burned for all the hatred and hurt these words would sow.
“You’ve made progress on the sword, then?” a man asked, more skeptical than Vi expected.
“I have,” Twintle said proudly. “With this last trip to our brothers and sisters in the Waste, we have established a network that stretches far beyond this city. We have amassed wealth. And, in this, I have procured access to the one person who can steal from Solaris—the one person who has evaded Tiberus ever since she cut down his father and stole his family’s treasure.”
“You’re mad,” a man near Vi murmured. No one but her seemed to hear.
Twintle was mad. Because if he was talking about the one person Vi was thinking of, it would mean he had made a deal with—
“Adela,” Twintle finished her thought. The fires that had been burning in the back of her mind crackled against her clenched and shaking fists.
“The bane of the seas?”
“The pirate queen?” another gasped.
“Yes, the pirate queen,” Twintle proclaimed, glaring around the room as if challenging anyone to move or speak against him. No one did. “Sometimes, the enemy of our enemy is our friend. Adela will gladly help us strike against Solaris. She has even reduced her rate for the delight of this job.”
“You would trust the sword to a pirate?”
“She’ll just take it,” Vi mumbled. Luckily no one heard. None of them had ever dealt with a force like Adela Lagmir before and it showed. Adela would gladly take the job, pocket every Western ruby she was likely demanding of them, and take the crystal sword for herself if she even had an inkling of the power it held. The mental image of the Knights scrambling to get it back—of them being betrayed like her family had been—delighted her like a black flame, dark and burning.
“She will lend u
s the help of her crew. Through them, she will provide knowledge and manpower with the wild magicks of the Crescent Continent. We shall steal the sword back when it is being transported to the South with the Imperial party. From there, it is not far to the Crystal Caverns.” Twintle held up a worn journal. Vi squinted but she couldn’t make out the writing. “I have procured the writings on Jadar’s search for Windwalkers, about his belief that the sword could unlock enough power to see Mhashan rule for millennia to come. This is only a fraction of what was collected from the Burning Times, but it will be enough that we can access the true fount of power in the depths of the Crystal—”
Twintle paused, lowering his hand slowly. All eyes were dragged to the doorway where Twintle was now focused. There a man stood, leaning against a crate, panting heavily.
“Forgive me, brothers and sisters, for my delay,” he huffed. “I was—”
Twintle held up a hand, stopping him. His eyes swung across the room, lips moving in a silent count.
“Bar the doors,” Twintle commanded, deathly quiet. “There is a stranger hiding among us.”
Everyone looked around and Vi did the same, not wanting to be easily identifiable as the odd one out. She could use durroe to hide herself. No, they’d already accounted for her. They’d launch a search if the count was off now. But they wouldn’t find her if her illusion was solid enough.
“We are the sword—” Twintle started loudly.
“That stands against the darkness!” Everyone answered boldly, proudly, and in unison.
“Her,” a man next to Vi shouted, approaching. “She didn’t say anything.”
“You there, lower your hood,” Twintle demanded.
“Tell us your name,” the man asked.
“My name?” Vi said softly, looking up at him through her eyelashes and past the edge of her hood. She should run. She should get out of there as quickly as possible—Vi had her information on what the Knights’ next move was and they still didn’t know who she was. This could still be salvaged without taking too many actions that risked fate.