Fire Falling (Air Awakens Series Book 2)

by Elise Kova

  “I am,” Aldrik repeated through obvious doubt. Even though the space was cold, sweat dotted his brow.

  “Then, my prince, for justice, for the strength of Solaris, for the future of your Empire, slay this man.” Egmun dropped dramatically to a knee. He pulled at the rope which attached a short sword to his belt and held out the blade expectantly.

  Vhalla wasn’t sure if it was her heart that was racing or if it was the young Aldrik’s.

  “But ...”

  “This man has stolen from your family; it is a treasonous crime. He is not an innocent,” Egmun assured.

  “Should my father not—”

  “I thought you were a man and a prince. I did not take you as someone who shied from justice or power, Prince Aldrik.” Egmun seemed to stretch his arms to hold out the sword further. “Why are you here?”

  “For my father, to conquer the North,” Aldrik said uncertainly. The war on the North had only started four years ago. Aldrik should be twenty, not a child.

  “With this, all will bend to you.” Egmun smiled encouragingly, and Vhalla was reminded of a serpent. Aldrik took the sword hesitantly.

  No, she whispered mentally. She was, of course, helpless and unheard. Aldrik turned to the kneeling man.

  “M-my prince, m-mercy please. T-take my hand for m-my theft. Spare m-me.” Vhalla heard the rough voice of the man through his tears. Aldrik looked back to Egmun.

  “Minister ...” he said weakly.

  “The guilty will say anything to you, my prince, to save their skin. This, too, is a lesson.” Egmun returned to his feet, he seemed to be holding his breath.

  Aldrik unsheathed the sword, passing the scabbard back into Egmun’s eager palms. The blade shimmered as though it gave off its own light.

  Egmun, stop. Vhalla shouted.

  “M-mercy,” the man begged. Aldrik stared at Egmun hopelessly.

  “Kill him, Aldrik.”

  Vhalla gaped in shock at the sudden harshness in Egmun’s tone. His patience had finally run thin. Aldrik didn’t seem to notice. She only had a moment to contemplate what, exactly, had the senator so eager before Vhalla saw the boy set his jaw in grim determination.

  No. She felt Aldrik’s terror, his uncertainty, his youthful hopefulness, the ever encroaching end of his innocence, and she felt herself at the point of weeping.

  Aldrik raised the blade. It hovered, just a moment above his head. The young prince stared at the helpless man before him, the life she knew was about to be cut short. Vhalla saw the flash of the firelight on the surface of the sword as he brought it down clumsily onto the man’s head.

  No, she repeated as she saw the man shudder violently at Aldrik’s weak and clumsy swing. Aldrik raised the sword again.

  No! Vhalla cried as he brought down the sword again, blood splattering across his perfect, youthful face. Aldrik raised the sword again.

  “No!” Vhalla shouted, lunging forward at a figure that disappeared with the opening of her eyes.

  An arm wrapped itself across her shoulders, holding her tightly to a man’s chest. A hand clamped over her mouth firmly. Her mind was in a daze and she cried out again, muffled by the fingers covering her lips. She twisted and kicked to free herself from the person’s clutches, instantly thinking of Egmun, her cheeks wet with tears.

  “Vhalla.” A voice that was made of midnight itself soothed from behind her. It broke through the chaos in her head. “Vhalla, stop. It’s all right. It’s me.”

  She gave a small whimper of relief and took a breath through her nose. Then another, until Aldrik finally removed his hand from her mouth, assured she would not alert the whole world to her presence in his bed. In her sleep she had rolled onto her side and Aldrik had curled behind her. Vhalla rolled to face him.

  “Aldrik,” she said weakly. Vhalla scanned his face. After seeing his younger self, he suddenly appeared every year of his age and too many more. She choked down a small cry of relief to see his cheeks free of blood. “Aldrik,” Vhalla whimpered before using his chest as a shield from the world.

  The prince’s arms closed around her, and he kissed the top of her head. “I’m here. You’re safe. It was just a dream. It isn’t real,” he reassured, running a hand up and down her back.

  “It is.” Vhalla choked out in-between shaky breaths and the remnants of tears. She couldn’t deny it any more. The earlier dreams had been too mingled with his consciousness to know for certain, but now she was sure.

  “Vhalla, I know of a great many powers in this world ...” He pulled back and ran a thumb over her wet cheeks. “I know of powers to see the future in flame and ash. I know of powers to listen to echoes of the past in waves. I know of powers that can heal almost any illness. I know of powers to walk outside of one’s own body.” Aldrik smiled gently at her. “But I know of no power of dreams.”

  “It-it was real.”

  “Hush, you’re not making sense. Take a breath and go back to sleep. It is barely dawn, and my father didn’t speak of having your demonstration until noon.” He kissed her forehead lightly, and Vhalla’s guilt made her pull away from him to sit up.

  “You don’t understand. It was real. My dreams, they’re not—” A shiver ran down her arms. “They’re not always dreams.”

  “Come, you’re cold,” Aldrik sighed. “What is it you think they are?” He yawned, blinking sleep away and propping his head up with his elbow.

  She relented, lying back down into the covers but avoiding his embrace. “They’re,” Vhalla sighed and closed her eyes, bracing herself. “They’re your memories.”

  “What?” Aldrik studied her.

  “My dreams, at least sometimes, are your memories. I don’t know how, or why, or when they will happen, but they do.” She gulped at his silence.

  “Why do you think that?” he asked, turning serious. “Because there’s no reason why I should dream anything like what I see,” she whispered.

  “Dreams are strange, Vhalla. Who knows why we dream what we do.” Aldrik laid back down.

  “No,” she snapped; he wasn’t taking her as seriously as she had wanted. She recalled a prior vivid dream. “The man who stabbed you was your brother’s guard, he was a Westerner, and his son was in the town that you attacked.”

  Aldrik’s eyes grew wide. “Did Baldair tell you that?”

  “No!” Vhalla fought to keep her head from turning into an emotional mess. “Aldrik, they are my dreams! You were at a garden in the West with the sculpture of a woman on an obelisk with a gold and ruby sun. There was a man there who told you—of all people—to stop fidgeting.”

  “My mother’s grave.” Aldrik’s lips barely moved. His eyes were suddenly burning with a dark intensity, and he grabbed her shoulder. “What else?” he demanded. “What else have you seen?” His fingers dug into her skin.

  She struggled to remember anything else but her most recent dream. “You in the dark, with another woman ...”

  “Mother ...” He hung his head in shame.

  “With, when-when Egmun made you ...” Vhalla struggled to find words, still reeling.

  “When he what?” Aldrik’s teeth were clenched. “When he what?”

  For the first time, Vhalla felt a small twinge of fear at his quivering hands. “When-when he made you kill that man,” Vhalla whispered, her lips barely moving.

  Aldrik stared at her. “Is that all? What do you know? Tell me, Vhalla, and do not lie to me.” His voice was rough and void of compassion.

  “I have never lied to you!”

  “Of course not, just rummaged through my head,” he raged.

  “How dare you!” Vhalla jerked out of his grasp, offended by his presumptions. “I only just realized it. I was only now, this morning, able to separate myself enough from you in the memories to realize.” She saw the recognition of those facts calm his anger some.

  “Was that all you saw?” he repeated more calmly.

  “Of that dream? Yes,” she sighed. “I don’t even know where it happened. It was all dar
k.”

  The prince sat and brought his forehead to his palm with a heavy sigh.

  “Aldrik,” she whispered. “There’s another ...”

  “Gods, what?” he sighed. “Vhalla,” he urged softly.

  Vhalla bit her lip. She wasn’t sure how to form the words. Something about all that had been said, her recent dream, his low opinion of himself, placed this singular memory in the forefront of her mind. Vhalla sat and took his hand gently in hers, bringing it to her lips first in reassurance. He looked at her, a mix of pain, shame, and anger furrowing his brow. She sighed and turned his hand over, so the inside of his wrist faced upward. With her free hand she placed an index finger just below his palm running it up his forearm. Her fingertip caught on his sleeve and pushed it upward, revealing the ghost of a scar which she knew would be there. It was so faint that on the pale of his skin it was nearly invisible, but she knew to look for it. Vhalla brought her gaze up to his slowly.

  Aldrik’s face drained of all the other emotions except horror as his lips parted. Vhalla held her breath, letting the shock hit him in silence. He wrenched his hand from her fingers, as though she had actually cut along his forearm. Vhalla could only look at him sadly before his eyes bore into her long enough that she was forced to avert her attention.

  They sat facing each other on the bed as the silence dragged on into eternity. His breathing was rough, and he clutched the arm she had touched as though he was in pain. Vhalla couldn’t bring herself to look at him as she awaited the verdict.

  “I never meant to violate you so,” she said weakly. Intentional or not, it remained that she had forced herself upon his most private of spaces, pilfering things that were not freely given.

  Aldrik said nothing; he continued to attempt to get his breathing under control as his eyes fixed on her. Vhalla felt power radiating off of him; he was angry, he was hurt, and it made her feel all the more awful.

  “I never wanted to.” She tried to explain, “I would’ve never done so—”

  “Of course not,” he spat. “Who would ever want to see the twisted broken histories that lurk in my head? Only one person in this world should deserve to endure it.” That brought her eyes back to him.

  “Aldrik, don’t say that,” she whispered softly, breaking under the anger in his gaze that she saw wasn’t really directed at her.

  “Oh?” He laughed dryly. “How can you think so? You know what’s there now. What’s worse, you’ve lived it. Tell me, Vhalla, what’s it like to find out your prince is a coward? Is weak? Is scared? Is wicked? Is—”

  “Human,” she said firmly, cutting him off. Aldrik paused. “Aldrik, I don’t know why ...” She took his hand in hers again, looking down at his arm.

  “I won’t tell you,” he said sharply. Vhalla shifted, startled, she had hardly been about to ask. “Damn it.” He stood, pacing the room. “Even if I don’t tell you, every time you sleep it’s a roulette to see if you’ll find out.” He spouted a series of foul words.

  Vhalla grabbed the blanket tightly; she’d never heard him use such vulgarity. “I wouldn’t say anything to—”

  “Not even my brother knows, Vhalla.” He turned back. “Not even Larel knows, and she’s the closest person I’ve ever had to calling a true friend. I tried to tell her once and that just went over awfully.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes with his palms.

  Vhalla had come to think of Aldrik as one of the strongest people she knew. Seeing him so close to his breaking point pulled her to her feet.

  “End the Joining.”

  He grimaced, shook his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “It only started after the Joining.” She pleaded, “Aldrik, please, I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to close what was opened.”

  “And I want you to survive this war!” he nearly shouted. Vhalla blinked as his words stung the corners of her eyes. Still, he still was mindful of her wellbeing. Even when he was in so much pain, even when she had pilfered intimate knowledge of him, he refused relief for her sake.

  “Mother Sun, woman,” Aldrik groaned. He crossed the room and stood before her, releasing his tension with a sigh. Slowly, gently, Aldrik wiped her cheeks. “Why are you crying?”

  Vhalla hiccupped. “Because you may be the most amazing person I have ever met.”

  “I am not. If it had been anyone other than you, I likely would have killed them on the spot and burned their body until there was nothing left but dust,” Aldrik swore darkly.

  She knew it shouldn’t, but just hearing it put that way brought a small smile to her mouth.

  Aldrik sighed. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be inclined to talk about these things.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Tell me, from now on, no matter what they are. Whatever you see, I need to know,” he said gravely.

  “I promise.” She nodded, apprehensive of what was locked away in his memories that gave him such fear.

  Aldrik sighed and stepped away. “Vhalla, I need some time.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I understand you didn’t choose this.” He swallowed hard. “I-I am not angry at you for it. I am not blaming you. But, this ... this, letting someone in is already so far beyond what I am accustomed to.”

  “I didn’t realize.” Vhalla rubbed her eyes, hanging her head.

  Aldrik tapped her chin, summoning her attention. “Good. It’s been better than good.” He shook his head. “I can’t even ... form sentences. This, you and I, my being pushed beyond the personal hell I built for myself, has been good. I’ve felt more like a man in the past months-weeks, in the past days being with you, than I have in years. As though I can enjoy things without—guilt. Good isn’t even the right word to say for it. You’ve let me be the person I always wished I could be and, I ...”

  “I understand.” Vhalla spared him further struggle. “I’ll wait, take your time.”

  “I just need to really understand what it’s like to have someone whom-whom I trust.” Aldrik avoided her gaze, scowling at himself. “Someone who knows my dark truths and who isn’t seeking something from me or is trying to use something against me.”

  Vhalla nodded, taking a breath for courage. She pressed her palms against her eyes briefly to hold in more tears of hurt and frustration. Intentional or not, she had hurt him and that ground her heart into pieces. And now she had to leave him at his request; even if he needed time, it didn’t sit well with her.

  Aldrik’s form was hunched and his eyes were somber as he led her down the passageway. There was a sorrowful resignation between them at the suppression of something that had just begun to blossom. It may be stinted, but Vhalla vowed she wouldn’t let the flame that burned between them be extinguished.

  As if reading her mind, Aldrik turned. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” She blinked at him.

  “For not fleeing my side after you ... had to experience all that.” Aldrik rubbed his forearm.

  Vhalla wondered if he even realized he was doing it. “I may not understand it all,” she whispered, braving a step closer to him. “But who you were made you who you are now. I wish you’d never had to suffer. But I’ll take the past gladly so I can share the present.”

  She saw the beginnings of a smile that he quickly abandoned. Aldrik pulled her in for a tight embrace, and she heard his breath quiver. Before he could lose his composure, he turned and pushed open the secret door.

  “Return at noon. My father will be expecting you then.” His voice was distant.

  “I will see you then,” Vhalla said hopefully.

  But the door had already closed.

  Larel and Fritz were playing a game of Carcivi when Vhalla mindlessly stumbled into the downstairs of their inn. She gave them one glance, nothing more than acknowledging they were there, before dragging her feet toward the stairs. A chair scraped against the ground.

  “We’ll finish later,” Vhalla heard Larel saying. The woman was quick on Vhalla’s heels.

  “Larel,” Vhalla whispered weakly
.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Larel rested her hands lightly on Vhalla’s quivering shoulders.

  “I hurt him, Larel ...” Weakness burst forth from her, and Vhalla relied on the other woman’s support once more to put her back together in time to face the Emperor.

  VHALLA OPENED HER eyes to the stunned faces of royals, lords, and ladies. The only person in the room who wasn’t impressed was Aldrik. Despite her demonstration being better than even she expected, the prince maintained his withdrawn and ambivalent look. She knew he couldn’t show her favor in front of the nobles, especially after hearing Lord Ophain speak on how careless he’d been with the affections he’d already displayed, but there was a larger wall there than just acting. Be it the Joining, the Bond, time spent together, or a combination of it all, he was poor at hiding his feelings from her, and Vhalla could see the hurt and fear in the depths of his eyes every time he looked her way.

  Everyone gave her space as she pushed herself off the plush furniture. No one said anything. The majors who had been assembled, the highest of the Emperor’s command, looked between her and their leader, reserving all judgment until they had heard his assessment.

  The most powerful man in the world leaned forward, his eyes glittering. “Well, Miss Yarl, that was certainly impressive.”

  “Thank you, my lord.” Vhalla lowered her eyes in respect.

  “This demonstration is replicable an infinite amount of times?” The Emperor turned to his eldest son.

  “As long as her magic Channel is not blocked in some way, like depletion or Eradication,” Aldrik affirmed with a nod.

  The Emperor stroked his beard and turned to the nobles assembled. “My son has already formulated some plans on how we will be able to use this power effectively in the North. However, I would like each of you to put together your own strategy before we reach the Northern border.”

  They spoke as though she wasn’t there. Vhalla shifted in her seat, folding and unfolding her hands in her lap. She was a tool to these people, designed to be used in whatever way they saw fit.