by Kova, Elise
She’d burned a man alive. Vi stared at her palm. Warriors had spoke of the disgust that flooded a person after such an act. Of the horror of committing such an atrocity. Of the ways in which you were fundamentally changed by such an act.
But Vi felt no different. If she was honest, she didn’t even feel guilty. Perhaps it was because the man was a monster… or, more likely, because she had other concerns.
“Ellene!” Vi called, staggering over to the cocoon of rock. Her fire had heated all the stone to the point of glowing. The soles of her shoes had burned off. But at least she’d mastered enough control of her magic not to allow it to burn her clothes during the act. “Ellene! Jayme! Andru!”
The rocks half melted, half crumbled away, revealing her friends. Sweat ran down Ellene’s temples, whereas Vi’s brow was still dry. But she otherwise looked fine. Andru was in a similar state. Jayme was not so lucky.
“Is he…”
“I killed him,” Vi declared, still hoping it was true. She knelt down at Jayme’s side. “I can cauterize some of the bleeding.”
“Don’t.” Ellene stopped her. “The plants are medicinal for clotting, healing, sleep… I’m trying to keep her in stasis.”
“How long can you hold it?”
“I don’t know.” Ellene looked at her with fear in her eyes. “She’s bad, Vi. I don’t know…”
“Stay here. Keep her alive… I’ll go back and get help.”
“Vi, I—”
“She’s still breathing. The best thing to do is not move her.” Vi clamped a hand over Ellene’s shoulder. “You can do this.”
“Don’t leave,” Ellene whispered softly, grabbing Vi’s hand.
“Be brave.” None of them had any other choice. “We both have to be brave for Jayme, because she was brave for us. Andru will stay with you.”
Andru slid a little closer to Ellene, avoiding eye contact with Vi. He’d known she was a sorcerer… No, this was the trauma of the day, nothing more.
Ellene sniffled and then her face hardened. She gave a stiff nod. “Be hasty.”
“I will.”
Even though she was sill exhausted and every limb felt like lead, Vi left at a jog. The singe marks from her flame extended halfway across the bridge Ellene had made between the platform they’d ascended and the heart of the ruins. Vi didn’t even glance over her shoulder, immediately clamoring down the worn stairs and large boulders toward the ground far below.
She started into the woods, raising her fingers to her lips and letting out a shrill whistle. Jayme was dying. She had been wounded because of Vi, and if Vi couldn’t save her now, she would never forgive herself. That would be the death that would linger with her. Not the elfin'ra. But Jayme, her friend, her first sworn guard.
Gormon came bounding through the trees, skidding to a stop before her. Vi worked to mount him. Her muscles ached, spasming with every thrum of his large paws on the ground.
She would make it, she had to. There was no reality Vi would entertain where she didn’t save Jayme. She gripped Gormon’s fur tighter, spurring him onward.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Vi felt every inch of her bruised, battered body. Every rock that had pelted her was making its ghostly presence known as she rode Gormon deeper into the jungle. The rush of the fight was fading and, in its wake, pain bloomed.
But Vi rode onward.
There would be time to rest soon enough. Jayme was hanging on by a thread—her friend was counting on her. Vi swallowed down panic and focused on moving with the animal beneath her so she wasn’t unseated. She couldn’t let her emotions get the better of her; there would be time for that later as well.
Dawn was breaking when Vi saw a rustling in the jungle in the distance. She sat straighter, a cry for help stuck in her throat. She didn’t know if she had the strength to fight off another diseased noru.
The beast came into view—normal fur and eyes. On its back were two of Sehra’s warriors. Vi didn’t recognize their faces, but she recognized the special tabbards they wore. Then, another noru emerged… and a third behind it, bearing Jax.
“Here!” Vi shouted. Clearing the thickness of her throat and adjusting her grip on Gormon, she raised a hand and waved, shouting again. “Over here!”
The ears of the noru swiveled toward her and they were bounding over a second before even their riders had fully registered her presence. Vi slowed Gormon to a stop, allowing herself to be circled. Jax was the last to arrive, his face was a twisted mess of anger and unshed tears of relief.
“I—”
“What in the Mother’s name were you thinking?”
“Uncle—”
“Running off like that. I thought you knew better than—”
“Jayme is dying!” Vi shouted, fearing he would go off on one of his usual tirades where she couldn’t get a word in. Jax was startled into silence. “Jayme is dying, please, help her.” Her hands were shaking, clutching Gormon’s fur for support. Had she ever been so tired?
“Where?” The anger melted to serious concern.
“I’ll show you the way. Is there a cleric among you?” Vi asked the warriors.
“I know some basic salves and procedures for the field.”
Vi gave a small nod to the man who spoke. “You, come ahead with me.” She turned to the other noru with two mounted warriors. “You two head back to the fortress and get Ginger. Tell her to bring her box. We’ll meet you here or closer to the fortress, if Jayme can be moved.” Vi finished giving her order, but then added at the end, hastily. “Also, Ellene is fine. She’s mostly unscathed and is keeping Jayme stable.”
“Yargen bless.” The warriors gave a small bow of their heads before turning the noru and bounding back into the jungle.
“This way.” Vi shifted in her seat, guiding Gormon with her knees and thighs. She spurred him into motion, leaving the rest to catch up with her.
“As soon as we arrive you should go back to the fortress as well!” Jax shouted, riding up next to her.
“No, I’m seeing this through, uncle. It’s my fault she got hurt.” Vi shot him a glare. “If not for me, she wouldn’t have come—she didn’t want to come.”
“She was always the one who had the most sense! You should try listening to her some time,” Jax grumbled.
“I know. I’m sorry. But don’t send me back, yet.” Vi knew the decision had been made, given that she was riding in the opposite direction of the fortress. “Let me see Jayme well. And then I’ll take responsibility for my actions and whatever punishment comes with it.”
The wind rushed in her ears, and Vi strained her tired eyes to make out the initial outlines of the ruins. She had thought the matter closed. But Jax was apparently not yet finished. When Vi saw him open his mouth again, she braced for whatever tirade he was about to unleash.
“There will be punishment.” It was a promise that prickled up Vi’s spine like a threat. “But seeing you take charge and responsibility just now… Perhaps it may not be as bad of a punishment as you think.”
“All I care about right now, uncle, is making sure my friend is all right.”
* * *
Vi could tell by the movements of Ginger’s hands alone that the cleric was tired. Not that she could blame her. The woman had been woken up at an ungodly hour, dragged out across the jungle, saved a life, and then came back to attend Ellene, Andru, and now Vi.
“Sorry for the trouble,” Vi murmured as she finished her tally of what she’d put Ginger through.
“Princess, you really are always trouble.” Ginger sighed. Then paused, glancing up from her work on Vi’s legs. “Sorry for my loose and tired tongue.”
Vi gave a soft laugh. “I think I deserved that.”
Her eyes drifted away from Ginger to the window of her room. The sun streamed though it as normal, as though it were any other day. It felt like anything but.
“I’m sorry for your father,” Ginger said softly. “I don’t think any of us really blames you for running off.
Grief can take up residence where our better judgment resides.”
Father… There was a dull ache in Vi’s chest. She had gone out and risked her friend’s lives to get a vision of him. While she’d failed in that, she had seen the end of another man’s life.
“I realize you likely only think of me as a cleric who mends bones and cuts,” Ginger continued. “But, princess, some of the most important—and difficult—healing work is done on the mind. Please reach out if you need. There are many around you who care.”
“Thank you, Ginger,” Vi said softly. “I’m very lucky to have your support.”
“Any time, princess. I’ve looked after you your whole life and have no intention of stopping now.” Ginger finished up her work and tiredly packed her box. “I’m going to tell Jax that you need some rest before he storms in here scolding. Try and close your eyes for a bit, princess. If you have trouble sleeping, let me know and I can give you a tipple for deep sleep.”
“I’ll be fine, thank you.” Vi gave the woman a nod and watched her leave.
Letting out a sigh, Vi sank back into her pillows. Her whole body ached and felt exhausted. Could she even manage to spin the light right now?
She looked down at her hand. It wasn’t as if she had a choice. She needed Taavin right now. She needed to tell him what she’d seen, and about her father… More than anything, she needed Taavin’s ear, his support.
“Narro hath hoolo,” Vi uttered.
Light blossomed above her chest. A magic circle more complete than she’d ever seen before hovered at her watch, expanding outward. It floated before her, spinning parallel to the floor. Slowly, the magic lowered, unfurling like the spool on a spinner’s wheel. The strands that hovered in the air took a new shape, a new outline.
Just like every time previously, Taavin came into sight. Color filled in and the light settled around him before disappearing entirely. There was no glyph swirling around his feet, no tendrils of light wafting off of him. It was just a man, standing at the side of her bed, looking around in wonder. He looked even sharper, more solid, almost like she could…
Vi’s hand moved, drawn on instinct. It rose, reaching out to what had been thin air moments before. But her fingers landed on him, feather-light. She pressed further, her fingers stretching up his forearm. They spread across the fabric of his coat, feeling every bump and groove of the intricate embroidery.
He was there. It was not pulsing magic, or warmth, or light. It was a man she could see and touch.
Taavin said nothing. He looked down at her through half-lidded eyes with an inscrutable expression. His attention alternated between her face and her rogue hand, staring at the place where it rested on him.
In his expression was knowing. Sorrow. Determination. Everything she’d seen of him from the start and then some. Neither of them said anything, and she would’ve been content to let the peaceful silence of simply being in his presence for the first time drag on for eternity.
Were it anyone else and any other situation, Vi may have felt embarrassment at her actions. But all she could feel was him. All she knew was the outline of his form—knew she was even now committing it to memory.
“I can touch you,” she whispered up at him.
“I can feel you,” he said in reply. “It must be the word Yargen gave you. This was why she bestowed it on me.” Taavin sat on her bedside. The feather mattress didn’t sink or sigh. So he was real to her, but to nothing else. He wasn’t actually with her, it only seemed to her he was. “You’re all right?”
Vi gave a small nod. “Bruises and scrapes mostly… But Jayme, she—” Something caught in Vi’s throat and the words stuck. She swallowed, once, twice, but couldn’t dislodge it. Her eyes burned, and Vi knew if she dared speak again, emotion would spill from them.
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.” Vi forced out the word, closing her eyes. When she felt more stable, she said, “Thank the Mother, yes.”
“Yargen’s blessings.” Even though he’d never met Jayme, Taavin breathed a sigh of relief. His other hand closed over hers. Vi hadn’t even realized she’d still been clutching his sleeve. “I saw you and the elfin’ra. Did he…”
“I killed him. He didn’t get my blood.”
“You killed him?”
“Don’t act so shocked,” Vi gave a small laugh. “Isn’t that what you were teaching me? To protect myself?”
“Yes but…” He squeezed her fingers. “It’s a relief to know you can.”
“The word you gave me helped, if I’m honest.”
Taavin gave her a small smile, one that quickly vanished. “What were you out there for anyway? I thought I told you not to be so reckless.”
“What are you, my keeper?” Vi gave a small grin.
“This is the second time you’ve scared me.” Taavin leaned forward slightly. She wondered if he realized he’d tensed his grip on her hand. “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”
The world stilled. Everything hung on her shallow breaths. Vi searched his shimmering emerald eyes and the sentiment in them suddenly sparked fear.
“You’re going to die,” she blurted.
To his credit, he didn’t even flinch.
“Death comes for us all,” he said softly. “Your vision… Tell me what you saw.”
“Taavin, you don’t understand.” Vi straightened away from the pillows. Her other hand reached over, sandwiching his. She clung to him, relishing in finally feeling him. “Someone is coming to kill you and I don’t know why, and you’re far, and I can’t help you, and—”
“You can help me by telling me what you saw.” Vi shook her head and he freed his arm. She looked away, realizing how forward she’d been, only to feel his hand land on her cheek, gently guiding her face back to his. “Take a breath and tell me, Vi.” His voice was firm, stabilizing, as though cementing her mind back into place from whirling doubt.
Vi recounted the broad strokes of the vision for him. “… but what you were holding, it looked like this.” Vi pointed to her watch.
“You said I was kneeling before a fire?” Taavin asked and Vi nodded. His eyes dropped to the watch around her neck. “It must be…”
“Didn’t you hear me?” Vi shook his hand lightly. “Someone is out to kill you.”
“Do not worry so much for me,” Taavin mumbled, still clearly lost in thought.
Vi balled her hands into fists. The spark roared to a blaze in her. The marrow of her bones was replaced by molten rock. She rose from the bed and stomped over to him.
“Firstly, don’t you presume to tell me what I can and cannot do.” Vi held a finger in front of his handsome face. “Secondly… You are the only person who knows what in the Mother’s name is going on with me. So you can bet that I worry ‘so much’ for you.”
Her two fingers hovered in the air between them. He looked down past them, to her. A small smile snaked across his lips.
“Good to know your compassion is purely a result of pragmatism.”
“You didn’t let me finish.” A third finger lifted. “And… third… I-I care about you, Taavin,” she said softly. His eyes widened a fraction. “You are the only person I’ve ever spoken to that I feel both listens and somehow fully understands what I say. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Vi hung her head. “I may have lost my father,” she finally said aloud. “I don’t want to lose you, too.”
“Your father?”
“They’ve declared him dead. Killed by pirates between here and Meru.” Vi shook her head. “I saw the vision of him with the queen, but what if the world has changed? What if I did something that led to my father’s death?”
She looked up at him, searching, though she didn’t know what for. Their hands shifted once more, curling around each other in a new way. It was as though, regardless of how they moved, neither wanted to relinquish their hold on the other. They had finally found this connection… what if they never had it again?
“I will look for in
formation on your father. And we will seek out more apexes of fate—perhaps you will see him again. Do not despair yet.”
She swallowed, giving a nod. As long as there was hope her father was alive, she would be strong. She would not believe he was dead until she laid eyes on his body, or the person who claimed to have killed him.
“I can find more apexes here. I’ll be headed south in a few months… Surely there will be some along the way. Maybe I can make sense of the two I don’t yet know.”
He paused, eyes darting over her face. Vi knew the look of a person who was hesitating. She leaned forward slightly, hanging on his next words.
“We need more than that. Your latest vision… I believe the key to saving this world lies in the watch around your neck.”
“What?” Vi freed a hand, grabbing it protectively. Taavin’s glyph shimmered over and through her fingers.
“I need you to bring it to me.”
“I can’t just leave… It doesn’t work that way,” Vi whispered, knowing he was all but trapped in the Archives of Yargen on Meru. “I have a duty to my people. And my family, they’re here, on this continent.”
“If Raspian goes unchecked, your people and your family are forfeit. If you remain there, the elfin’ra will hunt you until they have you. Vi, come to Meru.” Taavin stared down at her with his impossibly brilliant eyes. “We will find the truth of your father along the way. You will learn full mastery of your Lightspinning. And, together, we may find a way to seal away Raspian once more, and put an end to the plague that heralds the coming end of days.”
Vi swallowed, trying to clear her throat. She wanted to sound braver than she felt, ignore the odd nerves firing within her and setting her to quivering. Champion of Yargen, Lightspinner, heir to the Solaris Empire… Vi did not speak on behalf of any of her titles.
She spoke for herself and herself alone when she whispered a simple, “Yes.”
* * *
I hope you enjoyed Vortex Visions! Get ready for a whole lot more magic, romance, and adventure, as Vi’s story continues in book two: Chosen Champion.