Vortex Chronicles: The Complete Series (Air Awakens: Vortex Chronicles)

by Elise Kova

  “And have we tried this?”

  “No.”

  “What happens if we fail?” Vi dared to ask, though she already suspected the answer.

  “Everything repeats again.” He turned back to look at her with his dread-filled eyes.

  “Then I think it’s worth trying,” Vi said definitively. “Maybe, with a few years’ time here, I could learn how to use the crystals for purposes beyond just transferring their power. With all of Yargen’s power collected here, I have to believe we can break the seal without destroying her magic.” Rohko was in her mind—to seal. If the word could make a seal, perhaps it could also be used to break one. “And if I’m wrong in that assumption… then the new Vi, the new Champion, will face whatever happens then.”

  “Your plan works, assuming Yargen is able to return to the world and—”

  “She does,” Vi interrupted Taavin. “She was in my vision, facing off against Raspian. What if that vision wasn’t of failure, but of success? What if that’s what she wanted us to work to all along?”

  Vi descended the stairs hastily, crossed over to him, and stopped short as she was pinned in place by his wary eyes.

  “Is she always this insane?” Deneya asked Taavin. Even in his state, he managed a nod. Vi ignored it.

  “If we’re working to see a Vi born in this age, we know when the crystal weapons will come. Their fate is linked with Solaris. They’ll all return here, in the end, in the hands of my family… And I’ll be ready to meet them when they do.

  “Thanks to your memories, I’ll know where they’ll come from. I know how they’ll get here. I can shepherd time along. Rather than trying to completely alter fate, I’ll just nudge it in the right direction.”

  Vi had no idea if her plan would work. But she was ready to defend it and continue defending it. She no longer just wanted to keep Raspian sealed away. She wanted to see Yargen usher in a new age of light. She wanted the one thing she’d always wanted: To keep her family safe.

  And Solaris would never be safe as long as the crystal weapons and Caverns existed on the continent.

  Deneya folded and unfolded her arms, as though she was uncomfortable in her own body. Taavin paced several times. The silence grew heavy.

  “You know what you’re suggesting, right?” he finally said. “You know what it means for the people you love?”

  “I do,” Vi whispered softly.

  “This idea of guiding time, guiding events that happened before…”

  “Means people will be hurt as they have always been,” she finished for him, for once reading his mind. “People will die,” she corrected herself, not wanting to mince words. “They’ll die like Fiera did. They’ll suffer under the blight of the crystals on this land.”

  Vi swallowed hard, looking at the crystals that surrounded her. This was the physical essence of Yargen’s power—the power of life, light, and creation. But it had only ever spelled death for those she loved. It was a stain on her family’s history. One that Vi would take up the torch from Fiera to burn away.

  “But those deaths will mean something, this time. We’re on the right path. This time, it ends.”

  for the Man

  my muse, my light

  Chapter One

  The black-barked pine in the early morning almost reminded Vi of the Twilight Forest. Morning’s first light glittered through specks of snow overflowing from too-heavy boughs down to shimmering snowdrifts. Vi paused to admire the beams of light, the snowdrifts, the crisp air, and the homey aroma of the fire that plumed smoke out of the chimney of the cabin behind her.

  Each morning, she woke and was greeted by the quiet serenity of nature. For fourteen years, she had indulged in the bounty of this remote corner of the Solaris Empire. But it was all about to come to an end.

  “I think that’s it.” Vi deposited the last of Deneya’s work into the back of the cart attached to Prism—the massive warstrider previously owned by Princess Fiera.

  “Did you get the quiver?” Deneya asked from where she was checking the saddle.

  “I did, and the knife set.” Vi scanned the items in the cart. It was a scant amount, but all of impressive make. At least, she was impressed. Vi had never suspected her elfin companion capable of such craftsmanship, but time and necessity had been the best teachers. While Vi worked on her magic, Deneya had kept her hands busy with leather and steel work.

  Deneya rounded back, yanking on the woolen hat that Vi had knit for her two winters ago to hide her pointed ears, and assessed the load. “I think I’ll fetch some decent coin for that set.”

  “I hope so. I’m tired of roots, pickled vegetables, and trying to cook frozen meat.” Mosant was the nearest town, and they held their market once a month. Whenever Deneya went to market, she always came back with items that, a lifetime ago, Vi would’ve considered trivial. But now they were luxuries beyond compare.

  “At least frozen meat doesn’t go bad,” Deneya said. In the summers, they had to either slowly smoke and dry their meat, or store it deep in the perpetually frozen caves of the mountains. “In a few months, when you’re lamenting over meat gone foul because of the heat, I’ll bet you’ll be begging for next winter to arrive.”

  “Probably.” Then again, Vi didn’t expect to see next winter in this cabin.

  Fourteen years they had lived in the woods at the far foot of the mountain that housed the Crystal Caverns. Fourteen years, and Vi still looked the same as she had when she’d first woken in this world. Save for the length of her hair. It was now down to her waist, usually woven into a simple, thick braid.

  On the inside, however, Vi felt a world away from the young woman she’d been.

  She’d learned to survive on her own, and how to go with and without. She’d learned how cold a night without shelter could be, what hunger really meant, what necessity could teach a person. She learned all the things a princess would’ve never been taught—all the things a princess would never have needed to know.

  “I’ll see what I can find for us,” Deneya said, jolting Vi from her thoughts. “I have a trinket for the tavern owner. Maybe she’ll spoil us with some roast hare again.”

  “We can only hope.”

  “You going up today?” Deneya’s attention turned to the narrow path near their cabin that cut through the mountains.

  “Of course.” Vi touched the watch that never left her neck. It was tarnished and scratched, no longer the mirror surface Taavin had given her.

  “Go on, then, while it’s light and you can see the ice on the paths,” Deneya encouraged.

  “You should go, too. I don’t want you traveling at night when the wolves are out.” Deneya chuckled and Vi cracked a grin. They both knew the remark was more jest than worry.

  “I am the wolf.” Deneya’s smile split into a wicked smirk. “More fresh meat.”

  “And more pelts.” Vi stepped away as Deneya mounted Prism. “Safe travels.”

  “You as well. And good luck in there today!”

  Before Vi could reply, Deneya clicked her tongue and Prism started his trudge through the snowy forest. The creaking of the cart covered any response she could’ve given. Not that Vi had any words worth saying.

  Good luck in there. She needed more than luck. She needed results.

  Their cabin was simple but well made. Deneya’s brawn and knack for construction was a compliment to Vi’s knowledge of architecture. It’d taken about a year to complete. But since then, they’d added onto it every summer. First it was the stables for their two large warstriders—Prism and Midsummer—and now their yearlings as well. The next year, before the summer rains, they’d replaced the initial thatching with wooden shingles of bark they’d sheared from trees. Another summer they’d laid wooden flooring inside. A different winter they cobbled the loveliest stones they could find over the hearth to make a mantle.

  Inside there were two beds, a table, and two chairs. Vi walked over to the corner by her bed and lifted the sword that had been left behind in the C
averns years ago by the Knights of Jadar. She still wondered, from time to time, what the Knights said about that night. Did they recall it clearly? Or was the truth written and re-written through oral embellishments throughout time?

  From their cabin, it took her about an hour and a half to walk up to the Crystal Caverns. She could do it in less time. But there wasn’t a rush to anything these days. Time had continued its steady march as Vi worked in the shadows, determined to make the impossible happen.

  Vi emerged from between cliffs and stepped into the light of the snowfield that coated the base of the mountain where the path up to the Crystal Caverns began. Tracks in the pristine white blanket weren’t uncommon. There were a number of animals that continued to wander the mountainsides, even in the heart of winter. But these tracks were different, and fresh.

  Someone was here.

  Staying close to the rocky mountainside where there was less snow to show her footprints, Vi made her way to the tracks that led up toward the Crystal Caverns. She crouched beside the largest boulder she could find, wedging herself in a cranny.

  “Durroe watt radia,” she whispered. A glyph appeared around her wrist and magic shimmered at the edges of her vision. A cloak of invisibility settled on her shoulders and she prepared herself to wait.

  After about an hour, she heard the whinny of a horse and the clop of hooves over the mountain path. Her muscles had long since seized and gone numb from the waiting. But Vi remained rigid, watching. Her time in the wild had taught her nothing if not patience.

  The horse came into view. The broad-shouldered rider atop wore a hooded cloak of deep blue that covered almost all of his face. Vi leaned forward, as though that would help her sight penetrate the shadow the cowl cast.

  He continued forward, oblivious to her, down the path he’d arrived from and eastward—the direction one would take to the Capital. Vi waited until he was long out of sight before releasing her magic and making haste up the pathway to the Crystal Caverns.

  The moment she entered, Vi pushed magic out through her feet, the crystals illuminating in response to the arrival of the Champion. She searched, but nothing seemed out of place. “Narro hath hoolo.”

  The words passed her lips easily. Glyphs shone above her bundled chest, hovering over where the watch was underneath. A man with deep plum hair, bright green eyes, and a crescent scar on his cheek stood before her.

  He appeared from a slowly rotating glyph that unraveled to carve his outline from the thin air. But when the light faded, he remained. In this place, with the power of Yargen in the very air, he was more real than ever.

  “Good morning,” Taavin greeted her warmly, though the expression fell flat when his eyes settled on her. “What is it?”

  “There was a man here.” Vi continued to look around, running her fingertips over the crystals, feeling the magic stored within them and searching for some sign of trauma.

  “What kind of man?” Taavin asked, tone grave.

  “I couldn’t see his face. He wore a simple woolen cloak of navy blue.”

  “From the Capital?”

  “He headed back in that direction. But I can’t say for sure.” Vi’s hand fell at her side. “I don’t know what he did here. I can’t feel anything different in the crystals.”

  “Then whatever he did, it wasn’t anything significant.”

  “It worries me, though, seeing someone come to the Caverns.”

  The world had been quiet for the past fourteen years when it came to the Crystal Caverns. There had been a traveler only one other time—a Western man who arrived shortly after Fiera’s death—likely in search of the sword or evidence of what had transpired. Since then, it had been quiet. The sort of quiet that Vi had allowed to lull her into a false sense of security.

  “Based on previous timelines, people tend to become interested in this place again around now,” Taavin said quietly, scanning the shimmering blue crystals.

  “I know.” She had made Taavin tell her of the different iterations of the world time and again, over and over, until she knew many by heart. Vi looked down at the sword clutched in her hands. “That means there isn’t much time.”

  “You’re close, and you know it.” Taavin rested his hand heavily on her shoulder. Every time she summoned him here, Vi savored the slightest of touches for how real they felt. “Perhaps today’s the day.”

  “Perhaps,” Vi murmured.

  Years ago, Raylynn, Zira’s daughter, had asked Vi to make her a crystal weapon. Her answer then had been no. But if the girl were to ask today… Vi’s answer would be different.

  “I should get to work.” She stepped away from him and Taavin assumed his position not far from her, leaning against a crystal. His tall form cut against the light with an agonizing handsomeness that still, even after all this time, stirred desire within her.

  Her need for him didn’t cool no matter how much she wanted it to. Seeing him like this would always be bittersweet. The truth of his nature was a barrier they’d never been able to surpass.

  Focusing, Vi unsheathed the Sword of Jadar, set the scabbard aside, and held the hilt with both hands. She slowly lowered it and, when the very tip met the ground, a jolt of magic burst through the Caverns. The sword was made of crystals—the raw power of Yargen given physical form in the world—so its magic slotted in with the Caverns naturally.

  Uncurling her fingers one by one, Vi pulled her hands away, holding them out. Magic arced like a cold, slow-burning fire between her palms and the weapon. She could feel it wrapped tightly around the backs of her fingers, trying to collapse in on itself and return to the sword. Vi twisted her wrists and lifted her hands upward. Her muscles strained, trembling, as though she were lifting a colossal weight.

  But she made her mind calm and focused. She controlled this power—not the other way around. Turning her wrists inward once more, Vi felt the last dredges of power drain from the sword. The magic wrapped around her hands, but it almost felt as though it seeped into her. Making a cage with her fingers, she brought the magic together in a ball before her. It fought against her grasp, seeking freedom.

  She continued to compress the magic, forcing it inward. The pale blue of raw magic became a blindingly bright light. Sweat dripped down her neck as she focused on condensing the magic.

  Pop.

  Blinking into the relative dimness, Vi stared at the crystal that hovered in an aura of seafoam blue between her hands. She had drawn the magic from the sword and condensed it down into a new crystal. She let out the breath she’d been holding. Vi hadn’t dared breathe for the first part of the process.

  Twisting her right hand so the crystal hovered just above her palm, Vi lifted her left.

  Just as Fiera had done all those years ago, Vi tapped a nearby crystal jutting from the ground and beseeched the magic within. It came forth as she rotated her wrist with painstaking precision. Come along now, was her silent command. Magic spun out from the Caverns, condensing into glyphs with no meaning. Perhaps they were words, but neither Vi nor Taavin could read them. So if they had meaning, Yargen kept it hidden.

  She poured the power into the crystal she held. The stone’s glow intensified, but it didn’t change shape or color. Yargen’s magic defied time and space. An immense amount of power could be held in a vessel as large as the Crystal Caverns, or as small as the palm of her hand.

  The lights in the Caverns began to dim and Vi slowed the rotation of her hand through the air, slowing the draw of power. Two tethers stretched out from the crystal floating above her palm—one to the Caverns and one to the sword.

  “Keep going,” Taavin commanded.

  “What?” Here was where she usually stopped, allowing the magic to spill back into the dimming sword and Caverns.

  “Just from the sword,” he clarified. “Not the Caverns. Collect all the power from the sword and transfer it to the stone.”

  “But what if—”

  “We do it all again, then.”

  Do it all again. He di
dn’t mean today’s practice. He meant the whole cycle of time they were trapped in.

  “No,” Vi whispered, mostly to herself. “We won’t.” This was to be their last time. She had vowed as much to herself, to the world, even if the world would never know it.

  One way or another, this vortex would end.

  Vi twisted her hand and severed the trembling thread of magic that connected the crystal in her palm to the sword, lifting it away. She watched as the last of the sword’s power was extracted.

  The weapon transformed into obsidian as the power drained. Once the last dredges were removed, it fell to the floor and shattered into pieces. The magic once held within the sword now hovered above her palm.

  “Now, return the power to the Caverns,” Taavin commanded.

  Vi spun the crystal she’d made through the air, feeling the power unravel from it.

  The magic didn’t need much guidance from her to return to the crystals surrounding it. Yargen’s magic naturally sought out its own. A phantom thread pulled through her. Magic that lingered on her palms was drawn away with the rest. All at once, the crystal hovering above her palm stopped spinning and fell. It had gone dark, just like the sword.

  Vi stared at the obsidian around her feet, panting softly. She jerked her head upward. “The sword is gone.”

  “Make a new one.”

  “I’ve never made a sword.”

  “You just made crystal. You’ll merely make it in a different shape this time.” Taavin pushed away from the stone he’d been leaning against, his preternatural casualness belying the tension thrumming through Vi like the reverberations of a lightning bolt.

  Vi turned back to the nearest crystal jutting from the floor. It was nearly twice the size of her. She rested both hands on the sides of the stone. She’d chosen this path; she could do this. Yargen’s magic was around her, within her.

  “Easy now, just as before,” she whispered.

  Magic shimmered underneath her fingertips in response.