by Elise Kova
“How can you tell?” Deneya shifted, looking over her shoulder.
“I just can. See, here, there’s—”
“I’m going to stop you there; I’m not going to understand anyway.” Deneya laughed. “I trust you.”
“I don’t know how you can understand how to make leather and smithed goods, but claim you can’t grasp architecture.”
“We all have our strengths.” Deneya held out her hands and shrugged with a small smile, but her expression turned serious once more. “So where does this leave us with the crown?”
“Adela successfully stole it, of that I’m confident.” Just saying it aloud made Vi’s toes curl with how right it felt. “She must have fled to Oparium. It’s the largest port near Solarin.”
“Makes sense for the most infamous pirate the world has ever seen. Tiberus followed her in pursuit and… built a house with incomplete architectural drawings?”
“I don’t understand that bit either,” Vi admitted. “But that’s a mystery for another time. The first order of business is to make sure Adela actually got the treasure out of the palace. We have to rule that out with as much certainty as possible before we go chasing another lead.” Vi doubted that Taavin would go with her on a gut feeling when it came to this. She needed more proof of her theories before they took action.
“If she didn’t get it out of the palace, wouldn’t someone have already found it?”
Vi glanced back at her collection of books—a wealth of history on the Solaris family. Theirs was a bloodline that ran all the way back to the eldest son of the Champion.
“No,” Vi said. “This place is old, very old, and it’s been built on time and again. Who knows what may be hiding in its depths?”
Chapter Six
The moment Deneya left, Vi summoned Taavin. He barely had time to orient himself before she asked, “Do you know where Adela’s room in the Tower of Sorcerers was?”
“Excuse me?” Two emerald eyes blinked at her in startled confusion.
“Adela’s room, when she was a student of the Tower… do you know where it was?”
Focus crossed his face and Taavin shook his head. “A moment.” He held out his arms and murmured the chant that connected him to all the knowledge of their past iterations. As the light faded from him, he shook his head again. “This isn’t something you’ve asked me before. Why do you need to know about Adela?”
“I think she’s the one who took the crown—well before the point at which the world is being rebuilt time and again. The crown’s location has always been variable. Her stealing it may have been a stone in the river, but everything else about how she did it—”
“Changes,” Taavin finished thoughtfully. “Adela would be an agent of chaos in the world.”
“Exactly. I need to figure out if the crown left the palace or not.” Vi filled him in on all her discoveries—the books, Deneya’s records, her gut instinct. “If it’s here, we have it. If I’m right, and it’s not… then it’s either in Oparium, or with Adela herself.”
“Let’s hope it’s not the latter.” Taavin sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I don’t know where her room was.”
“Do you know anything about her? Beyond the obvious? Any memories of her, no matter how insignificant, might be helpful.”
“You seem desperate.”
“I am.” Vi folded her arms. “Victor might be ahead of me in the hunt for the crown. I’m not sure.” She shook her head at the whole situation—at the mere thought of Victor getting his hands on the crown. In her world, when he had, he’d used the crystals’ power to challenge the Solaris family in a bloody coup. He’d become known as the Mad King for his twisted ways, and any effort Vi could make to thwart or postpone his nefarious tendencies would be effort well spent.
“I see.” A pained look crossed his features. “I’m sorry, Vi. I don’t have much knowledge on Adela beyond what you likely already know.”
“It’s all right.” Vi crossed to him and took both his hands in hers. She gripped them tightly. “The knowledge you’ve given me has already done so much. I can take care of this.” Leaning forward, Vi placed a chaste kiss on his lips, quickly pulling away. Now was not the time for romance. Deneya’s revelations had lit a fire in her. “I’ll let you know what I find.”
“Where are you—” She’d dismissed him before he could finish.
“Sorry,” Vi murmured to the empty air and left her room. The night was young, and the iron of her mind was hot—ready to strike.
She wound about halfway down the Tower to a central room. Long tables stood empty, projects scattered about them, waiting for their Waterrunners to return in the morning. Around the outside of the room were narrow doors that led to private workshops.
Vi peered into the darkness, imagining Adela here. The woman was sixteen, or maybe just seventeen. She had the same icy blue eyes. Her hair was blonde, not white. She was younger, but as confident and arrogant as the Adela Vi knew. She sauntered around the Tower and this room like she owned the place.
This was the shade of the woman who had marked up Imperial Library books, if Vi’s theory was right. She plotted the greatest theft in Solaris history right under the eyes of the royal guard and family. Adela had been so confident that no one would suspect her, she even left a paper trail.
“You wanted someone to find you, didn’t you?” Vi whispered into the imaginary face of the young Adela. She could almost envision the teenager smirking back. Adela would want someone to piece together her brilliance.
What good was a history-making theft without leaving enough behind for the bards to spin tales of her infamy?
Vi’s midsection tensed with a phantom pain and she suppressed a shiver, remembering where Adela had gouged her with an icicle. She hated the thought of playing into Adela’s plans. But letting the crown slip through her fingers was not an option.
To the right of the door was a narrow bookshelf. Each of the books on it seemed to contain records of the projects and supplies used by Waterrunners within the Tower. Vi went right for the year 307.
Sure enough, a familiar pale blue ink was neatly scribbled next to various dates throughout the year. The Tower records had been exempted from the systematic expunging of Adela’s identity. Likely, in part, because her name wasn’t actually written anywhere.
Vi focused only on what she assumed to be Adela’s entries.
A.L. — Storeroom duty.
A.L. — Borrowed seven tokens from the storeroom.
A.L. — Training grounds, Waterrunner combat.
A.L. — Storeroom duty.
A.L. — Waterrunner combat.
A.L. — Absent.
A.L. — Storeroom duty.
The combat made sense to Vi. Adela was frighteningly good in a fight. She’d bet the absence was a trip to Oparium to plan her getaway. Perhaps that was when Adela had even purchased a ship.
“What was your obsession with the storeroom?” Vi murmured, replacing the book back on the shelf.
One by one, Vi opened each of the doors on the outer ring of the workshop. Black disks hung by each one, and every room was identical to the last. A single flame bulb hung over a center pedestal that had water in a shallow indent on top. Vi could only speculate as to the function of the rooms, but she was certain none of them was a storeroom.
Working to quell her frustration, Vi went to leave and it hit her. She froze, staring directly across the hall at an outer door marked Waterrunner Supplies rather than the name of an apprentice of the Tower.
“You arrogant pirate,” Vi said with a small grin.
Luckily, the storeroom was unlocked. Inside were a few shelves on either side covered in all manner of baubles, books, quills, inkwells, and parchment. Vi closed the door behind her and brought a hand to the watch around her neck.
“Narro hath hoolo.”
Taavin appeared before her. “We’re in… a closet?”
“A storeroom, more precisely. I think this was integral
to Adela’s plan.”
“How so?”
Vi didn’t appreciate his skeptical tone. But she didn’t begrudge him it, either. “Perhaps she hid the crown here. Or maybe it leads to another secret passage. The palace is full of them.”
“I’m surprised you don’t know every last passage there is.” Taavin folded his arms over his chest.
“I’ve been working on it.” Vi gave him a mischievous grin. “I don’t suppose you can use uncose to expose any hidden exits?”
“Not in this form, unfortunately.” Taavin looked down at his palms and Vi barely resisted the urge to tell him that she would make him real. One way or another, someday soon, he would have a body and his magic once more.
“It’s all right, help me look.” Vi began scouring the shelf to the right of the door.
“I don’t think we have to look very far.”
“What?” Vi turned to find him pointing at a narrow strip of wood that ran the length of the wall, floor to ceiling, in the back corner. Cobwebs clung to it and Vi nearly coughed up a lung as she disturbed the dust to expose the wood to the light of her flame. The firelight clung to the carved shape of a trident, gouged deep. “Adela’s symbol,” she whispered. “How did you even see this?”
“Elfin eyes,” he said with a grin.
Vi narrowed her gaze in his direction. “You just started in the right side of the room is all.” She took a step back, pulling a heavy barrel away from the corner. She followed the strip of wood up, over, and back down, where a clean line ran behind one of the shelves. “I think it’s a door.”
“How do you figure?”
Rather than answering, Vi lifted her hand, pressing it to the wood. It went up in eager flames, turning to a pile of ash. Sure enough, hidden behind the wedge was a miniature handle mostly obscured by the shaded alcove.
“Like that.”
“Why would Adela mark the entrance to her hideout?” Taavin asked as Vi gripped the handle, pushing her shoulder into the door.
“Two theories. One, she planned to come back here, or send someone else back here. Two, she wanted to be found by whoever was clever enough to follow her.” Vi grunted and pushed harder. The stone door groaned on hinges that didn’t want to open. “With any luck, we’ll find the crown right—”
Vi paused as the door finally opened in full and she stared at the room beyond.
Dust had settled on every surface, from the mostly empty bookshelf to the cot. Vi’s attention was drawn to the threadbare tapestry hanging by threads. A rudimentary trident was stitched on it.
“Was this her room?” Taavin asked, entering.
“No… she would’ve been given a Tower bedroom as an apprentice. This must’ve been her hideaway.”
“She lived a double life even then. A bed as an apprentice… a bed as a pirate,” Taavin murmured as Vi crossed to the bookcase. Notebooks were still lined up on it.
She grabbed one off the top shelf, but it had nothing but notes on Waterrunner combat. Vi returned it as her eyes settled on another row of Adela’s records. Each journal on the lower shelf had a different colored spine, and a number.
“One, blue.” Vi took the first notebook. Within were scribbles in what was now an all-too-familiar ink. “Each of these notebooks corresponds to a book she’d read in the library.” Vi flipped the pages. “There’s a whole system here—circles, dots—these are the cyphers to all her markings.”
Separately, Adela’s notes didn’t make any sense. They were jargon about ships, seafaring maps, and histories. But with the library books in tandem, Vi was getting a complete picture of how Adela had tracked the crown through the ages and planned her getaway.
“What does it say about the crown?”
“I don’t know yet, other than she wanted it.” Vi scanned the pages. “She knew it could give her great power. That seems to be enough for most mortals.”
“Most… mortals?” Taavin repeated quietly. Vi tensed and looked up from the notebook. His emerald eyes searched hers with intense purpose.
“I’m not quite mortal, not anymore,” Vi whispered. “We both know that.”
“I’ve never heard you say it in such a way before though.”
Don’t look at me like that, she wanted to say. It was the same look he’d given her in those ruins a lifetime ago. A look that saw something in her she herself wasn’t ready to see.
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not mortal.” Vi closed the book and returned it to the shelf. “Otherwise I couldn’t do what needs to be done.”
She took another book off the shelf to avoid staring at him. This one wasn’t a notebook, but a proper manuscript instead. It was all about the port of Oparium, the closest port to Lyndum, and how it had been built. There were underlined passages regarding the difficulties the builders had in constructing the town and port due to the craggy, cave-pocked rocks and cliffs surrounding it.
Scraps of papers caught her eye. Balancing the book in one hand, Vi unfolded the leaves. Rough sketches made up the lines on rudimentary maps of what appeared to be tunnels.
“What’s that?” Taavin asked.
“Her heist.” Vi held up one of the maps. “Adela found a room to store her information here in the palace. I’m sure she had another secret passage she used to escape, because if she was caught it would’ve been recorded in the guards’ records. But since her name was blotted out, I can only believe that she—and the crown—at least made it to Oparium. I’d bet she used these tunnels when she was there to evade the encroaching Imperial guards.” Vi put the map down, moving to hold up another when a slip of paper fluttered to the floor.
“What’s that?” Taavin asked, crouching down. Vi mirrored the motion and picked up the note.
She recognized the script. No, she recognized a handwriting very similar—this writing looked just like her father’s and was too close to be chance. Vi read the inscription aloud:
“My darling A.L.,
I know you’ve been fascinated lately on the histories of Oparium. I encountered these maps in the archives and thought of you. Consider it a gift.
Forever yours, T.S.”
“A.L. must be Adela Lagmir,” Taavin said, looking up to her.
“I would assume.” Vi returned the maps and the note to the book. The other ledgers could stay—they contained nothing more than notes and plans Vi already knew about. This book was coming back with her.
“Who do you think T.S. is? He seems fond of her.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Vi started for the door. “Who else could take a book from the archives? Who else would Adela want to become close to?” A look of clarity overtook Taavin. “T.S. must be Tiberus Solaris.”
“Your grandfather and Adela were… intimate?”
Vi cringed at the word. “I don’t know about my grandfather. Though, it would explain why Adela hates and has always hated my family so profoundly, if he wronged her somehow…” All those years ago, when Vi had infiltrated a meeting of the Knights of Jadar, Twintle had said that Adela had reduced her rate to work against Solaris. The memory of the remark suddenly took on new meaning.
“Then she would want to get back at Solaris whenever possible.”
They emerged back into the storeroom and Vi returned the barrel to where it had been. Hopefully, no one would notice the lack of wood or deep groove in the back corner. But, if they did, these were the sorts of things Adela’s legends were made of. Vi could almost picture some Waterrunner gleefully telling his friends about the discovery.
“We need to get to Oparium and explore these caves.” Vi tapped the book in her hands.
“Not until Aldrik goes to the Caverns with the sword.” Taavin grabbed her shoulder and shook her gently. “We can’t deviate from the stones in the river. A new Champion must be reborn.”
“Taavin, we have the weapons in our grasp. Now is the time to act.” Vi gripped his forearm, staring him in the eyes. “We can seize this opportunity and save our world.”
“And if we fail, we
have doomed it.” His hold on her tightened. “You know what’s at stake.”
“Better than anyone.”
“But not better than me.” In his haunted eyes she could see every one of the ninety-three worlds he’d witnessed. “Aldrik must go to the Caverns. Give him your fake sword, if you must. But we will see the stones in the river honored. Yargen cannot just choose a new Champion from the masses and start the world over again. It must be the daughter of Vhalla and Aldrik Solaris, just as it was the first time. It’s the only way to preserve this loop.”
Vi swallowed once, twice; it took three times and a nod for the lump in her throat to finally go away. She knew what he said was true. In some deep and terrible way, she knew it to her core.
“All right,” Vi whispered. “We do what we must here. And then to Oparium.”
Chapter Seven
A flurry of knocks woke Vi with a start.
Adela’s notebook fell from her chest and landed heavily in her lap. The maps were scattered around the bed. More knocking followed.
“Impatient…” she mumbled, cursing under her breath. Dawn was just breaking through the curtains of her room and after being up half the night, she’d planned to sleep in. “Just a moment!” Vi said, louder.
Swinging her legs off the side of the bed, she flung over the duvet to hide the books and parchment in its fold. Standing, Vi crossed to the door and grabbed the black jacket that hung on a peg next to it. She slung it over her shoulders, smoothed out her hair and clothing, and opened the door just as another set of knocks were about to begin.
Vi blinked grumpily at the blond man staring back at her.
“Victor, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Vi glanced around the hall. He appeared to be alone. “I don’t believe we have lessons this morning.” And never this early, she thought bitterly.
“Egmun has demanded to see you.” Victor looked her up and down. Vi had no doubt done a poor job of hiding that she was still in her clothes from the day before—clothes she’d just been sleeping in. “Do you need a moment to put yourself together?”