by Elise Kova
Vhalla threw up an arm, and he flew backward. Just as she stood, a heavy greave kneed her in the face, shattering her nose. She was an easy target in white and Vhalla was quickly learning why nobility didn’t usually lead charges.
She coughed up blood, surprised she had not lost any teeth or bit her tongue off. Just a laceration inside her cheek. A heartbeat began to race at the edge of her consciousness. It was both familiar and terribly different at the same time, and she struggled to fight it. It was an unwanted and unwelcome sound, a rhythm that beat to the drums of war and bloodlust.
The man with the ice had recovered and was lunging again. With a cry that was part animal, Vhalla thrust a hand onto his face, dodging the other man’s second punch. Blood splattered the ground as the Waterrunner’s head exploded.
She spun, wind under her toes, making her nimble. Making her powerful.
Her sword rang out against its sheathe, reverberating up her arms and into her chest. The sound echoed in harmony with the pulse that propelled her. She would write their requiem in blood. There was minimal resistance as Vhalla put the wind at her elbows to shove her blade clear through the man’s skull, starting with his eye.
Vhalla kicked him off her blade. Laughter rasped against the inside of her throat. They would all die. Any who opposed her were weak. This was the only truth of the world. The weak would die to form the foundation of the world, the world the strong would inherit. A beautifully, wonderfully, chaotic world. It was only nature.
She turned her head, and, at her behest, lightning crackled across a sorcerer’s flesh. He shuddered, his eyes lolling in their sockets as his body became coated in burn marks that quickly turned black. He fell dead, and Vhalla turned for her next victim. It was as though the battle moved slowly for her. She saw every pulse of magic from the sorcerers and from the tainted. Each flash of weaponry was seen in perfect clarity.
She was death itself. No, she was stronger than death. She had beaten death twice! That made it hers to administer. Her body moved without thought, reckless and wild.
A pair of arms closed around her torso.
“Vhalla,” Jax’s voice hissed in her ear. “Vhalla, enough.”
She blinked the haze from her mind. The familiar call of her name pulled her back to the present, like waking from a dream. The battlefield had changed from her prior recollections. The last of the soldiers had fallen, their victory apparent. Vhalla panted heavily, trying to make sense of it.
Turning her, his palms on her shoulders as though he would need to physically hold her in place, Jax checked her up and down. A frown weighed on the corners of his lips.
“What did I do?” she breathed.
His scowl only deepened at her question. “We should get you to Elecia; she’ll heal you up.”
Vhalla followed dutifully, noticing her feet when she followed behind the Western man. It was as though she had bathed in blood. The white of her armor was coated and splatted in bits of gore. Soldiers stared. Some began to cheer, but others looked at her with a touch of fear.
Elecia made quick work of fixing Vhalla’s nose. But there was a reserved nature to her ministrations. The woman studied Vhalla carefully for far too long.
“We should get you washed up,” she said finally.
“I can do it.” Vhalla stood.
“I want to come, continue inspecting you.” Elecia half blocked Vhalla’s path and put on her best imitation of Aldrik when he was uninterested in any arguments. “We’ll be setting up camp here for the night anyway.”
“Very well,” Vhalla sighed.
They walked through the beginnings of a camp being erected just beyond the edge of the carnage. Elecia paused, resting her hand on a tree before heading away in a diagonal direction. Vhalla dragged her feet along.
“What are you doing?” Curiosity still got the better of her.
“Seeing where the trees roots get the most water in order to find us a stream or spring.” Elecia glanced over her shoulder. “You’re painted red.”
Vhalla looked back down at her armor with a small frown. If only she could remember killing the people whose blood she wore.
Elecia’s magic delivered. The spring they found was small and shallow, barely up to Vhalla’s short-statured waist. They were still in the transitional shrub land of West and South.
Her armor felt heavy and her fingers uncoordinated as she tried to unclasp it. Elecia sighed softly and helped Vhalla. The women found a spot at the water’s rocky edge to sit.
“Elecia, look, I’m fine.” Vhalla held out her arms putting herself on display. “You don’t need to be here to check or heal me.”
“It’s not your physical body I’m worried about,” the woman solemnly uttered. “Now, in the water.”
Vhalla obliged, wading into the center of the pool. The spring was chilly on her skin. It sharpened her senses and grounded her in the present. Vhalla watched as the water clouded with blood.
“What happened today?” Elecia demanded.
Vhalla cringed inwardly. She wanted to scream; she wanted to sob. Vhalla tilted her head back and looked at the unbroken sky. She opened her mouth and took a deep breath.
“The wall had my magic in it.”
“Yours?”
“Alongside Victor’s and the crystal magic,” Vhalla affirmed. “I don’t think he can quite control or manipulate the crystals without it. My magic was like a support structure holding the rest together.”
“He’s not a Windwalker, but if he has Windwalker magic to work with . . . I suppose it makes as much sense as anything else involving crystals,” Elecia worked out.
“I thought I could pull out the scaffolding, or that I could reclaim it and gain control of the crystals. I invited it into me. I invited him into me.”
“Who?”
Vhalla’s eyes drifted over to the other woman. She dropped her head to one side, debating between laughing and continuing to stare at her incredulously. “You’re not one to ask dumb questions.”
Elecia frowned.
“I didn’t want it.” Vhalla returned to staring at her fingers, as though they were disconnected from her body. “But I didn’t think it could or would come in alongside my magic. Now he has some of my magic, I have some of his. I feel him. It’s like we, we’re . . .”
The word was thick and heavy on Vhalla’s tongue. It tasted like death. She was tainted, but it wasn’t the taint everyone knew.
“We’re Bonded.”
There was nothing but the sound of the winds and the rustling of small trees and grasses. Elecia stared at her a long moment, blinking her eyes. Vhalla wondered if the woman could see it, now that she knew what to look for.
“You’re shivering.” Elecia quickly splashed some water over her own bloodstains and stood. “Come, we’ll get you back to Aldrik and get you warm.”
“I don’t think I should be around Aldrik,” Vhalla confessed.
“Well, you can tell him that, because I most certainly won’t be the one to do so.” Elecia held out a hand. “You’re stronger than this, Vhalla Yarl.”
Vhalla searched Elecia’s emerald eyes for the hint of deception. If the words were a lie, Elecia did a great job of delivering them with confidence. Vhalla stood on her own, ignoring the offered help up. She didn’t want anyone touching her. She had used crystal magic. She could be walking taint.
Night fell quickly and, despite Vhalla deciding to risk some magic to dry their clothing, they were both cold by the time they arrived back at camp. Jax and Aldrik stood around a campfire, speaking with Fritz and a few other majors who quickly cleared out when the Lady Ci’Dan and the Empress sat.
“Vhal.” Everyone looked at Fritz in surprise. Apparently, none of them expected him to be the one to break the silence. “What happened today?”
“A battle.”
“No, I’ve seen you fight before. That wasn’t you,” Fritz said softly, almost fearfully.
He had no idea w
hat he needed to fear.
“I’m Bonded to Victor.” It was going to come out sooner or later; Vhalla didn’t see the point in delay.
“What?” Fritz leaned backward in surprise.
“Vhalla.” Aldrik grabbed her hand from wringing her own fingers in her absentminded habit. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered and pulled her hand from his.
“No.”
“His magic is in me, mine is in him. I feel him as I felt you.” Vhalla didn’t want to break her husband’s heart just weeks into their marriage.
“How?” Aldrik breathed. The majority of his brainpower was clearly being used to process what she was saying, rather than mustering eloquent words.
Vhalla sighed and summarized it as she had for Elecia, about the wall and Victor’s magic being atop hers and the crystal’s magic.
“Vhalla, are you sure?” Fritz had the audacity to look hopeful, as if she were somehow mistaken.
“I know what this feels like!” Vhalla snapped. Fritz’s eyes widened, and she immediately regained control of herself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just—it’s been a long day.”
“Well, something is different.” Elecia blinked her eyes a few times, and inspected her again. “I don’t know enough to determine if it is a Bond or not. But there is some kind of strange synthesis.”
“What do you think it is?” Aldrik asked.
“I just said I don’t know.” Elecia shook her head.
“Well, he doesn’t have your magic in him,” Aldrik pointed out with a finger. “It’s just the crown.”
“True.” Elecia didn’t put up much of a fight. “But who knows what he has accomplished with all his crystal work. Vhalla seems to already be able to use crystal magic like Victor. A feat she never really accomplished with your Bond, which was quite strong. Crystals break all the rules of magic we know, and those rules surrounding Bonding are fuzzy at best.”
“But this could be good.” Jax rubbed his chin, no longer the silent observer. “We saw it today; you can tear down what he makes like it’s nothing. This could be a useful tool.”
“I am not a tool.” Vhalla looked at him darkly. “Would you want the madman in you? How would you like to feel his rage burning under your flesh? Then maybe you wouldn’t think it’s so damned convenient!”
They all stared at her in shock. Vhalla’s mouth dropped open as well, struggling to find words—words that were truly hers. It was like a switch on her emotions that she no longer knew how to control. Jax, for once, had no dark or perverse retort. Vhalla buried her face into her palms.
“I’m tired,” she mumbled, unable to face them a moment longer.
Hands, hot palms, slid over her, easing over the invisible wounds that bled under her skin. Aldrik engulfed her, smoke, sweat, fire, and scent all his own. Vhalla trembled, she wanted to push away the emotions that were threatening to break out. She tried to drown the unwelcome disgust that coated the back of her mouth with thoughts of Aldrik’s love.
“Friends, leave us.”
Vhalla heard shuffling and was almost content to let them leave without another word. But she had to clutch onto the things that made her Vhalla, and her friends were one of those things.
“Jax.” She pulled her head away from Aldrik’s chest. He stopped, just within the light of the campfire. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“Don’t let it trouble you, Empress.” If Jax was putting on a front, he did quite a good job at feigning earnestness.
“Come, my Vhalla.” Aldrik pulled her to her feet. “There is a warm bedroll waiting for us.”
Vhalla stopped trying to fight him. She gave into the comfort of her husband’s presence. One foot, then the next, it was the only thing that she filled her mind with, afraid if she went too far in any direction, Victor would take over.
Under the blankets, Aldrik coaxed out the stubborn stiffness anxiety had put in her shoulders and arms. His heated caress, his soothing whisper. It drew Vhalla against him, basking in his love as though it were the only thing that would keep her alive now.
“I don’t want this . . .” she breathed in Aldrik’s essence to fuel her frightful confession. “I can feel him. Even now, lurking back behind my thoughts. Waiting for the currents of magic and minds to let him have a hold again.”
Aldrik held her hand bone-crushingly tight, bringing it to his lips to kiss her fingertips.
“I’m Bonded to that man. I lost our Bond, and now—”
“It is not a Bond,” Aldrik spoke with conviction.
“I know this feeling, this—”
He silenced her with a firm kiss. One that was magical enough to muster hope. “We shared a Bond,” he whispered across her lips. “A Bond is wonderous. A Bond is life. It is the most beautiful connection that can ever be shared. This—this is not a Bond.”
Vhalla kept her mouth silent. A wolf was not a dog because you called it so. But she would give her husband hope, even if she couldn’t share it. Vhalla closed her eyes and gave herself to his reassurances. She hoped that by morning she could actually believe them.
CHAPTER 27
“Victor.” The Emperor Tiberus Solaris was removing his plate with the assistance of various servants. He stood in an open space with polearms displayed on the walls, their points still sharpened and oiled. The tiling was vaguely familiar, white marble laid at a diamond pattern. “You know I am very busy right now with the festival starting soon.”
“I know, my lord,” the Minister of Sorcery acknowledged with a bow. “But you told me to come to you with the results of my research on your future campaigns.”
“You have found something useful?” The Emperor looked at Victor through his reflection in a large mirror. His arms held straight out, the help had almost finished removing the many layers of complex plate that made up his ceremonial armor.
“Very useful.” Victor struggled to keep the apparent glee from curling his mouth. “But tell me first, where is your eldest son now?”
The Emperor turned to the minister and arched a single brow. Victor smiled calmly. It was a smug little look that breathed of arrogance and assurance. It was a bold front to put before the late-Emperor Solaris, and one people only did when they were certain that the information they possessed outweighed any potential ire.
“Leave us,” the Emperor ordered, his eyes focused on Victor. The servants cleared the room on command. Dressed down to just pants and a thick cotton tunic, the Emperor took a step toward Victor, regarding him carefully. “Were it not for your manner, I would presume he would be making the necessary preparations for our court dinner for the start of the Festival of the Sun.”
There was a long moment of silence while Victor clearly weighed his options for how to proceed. “What do you know of the common girl named Vhalla Yarl?”
“Vhalla Yarl?” The Emperor shook his head. “The name is not familiar. I usually make little effort to remember the names of the lowborn.”
“He has not sent one report to you about her?” Victor stroked his goatee thoughtfully. He made a show of speaking to himself. “I’m sure it just slipped Aldrik’s mind.”
The Emperor’s expression changed momentarily at Victor’s words. The royal had taken the bait.
“I am sure her name will be well known by you soon enough,” Victor assured.
“Why?” the Emperor asked cautiously.
“Your son is with her now,” Victor reported triumphantly.
“Aldrik?” The Emperor seemed genuinely surprised, but quickly waved it off. “Aldrik is not one to fraternize with common folk. I try not to get in the way of his amusements when it comes to playing his mind games with them. Keeps a healthy amount of fear in those beneath our notice.”
“If anything, she has played a mind game on him.” Victor’s tone turned serious, not wanted to heed the obvious dismissal of the topic. “Every time he comes to me, he inquires after her well-bei
ng. He trained her personally. He carried her to me following an incident, cradled in his arms and begged me to help her. He races to her side at every possible moment. We both know he has previously made some less than ideal choices off the lower rungs of society.”
“I am not worried about a child.” The Emperor folded his hands behind his back and leisurely strolled over to a window, looking over his city. “If she is a problem, I will remove her like . . . Oh, what was her name?”
“Inad?” Victor finished easily.
Vhalla recognized the name of Aldrik’s first love.
“Yes, her.” The Emperor nodded. “I appreciate your diligence now, like then, Victor, but I am not worried. Now, I think this conversation—”
“This girl is able to give you the means to conquer the Crescent Continent,” Victor interjected quickly.
“What?” The Emperor turned in place, too invested in Victor’s words to be upset by the interruption.
“That’s why I thought Aldrik would tell you. I realize you’ve been keeping your overseas visions from him, but I thought he would tell you for the sake of taking the North.” Victor sighed heavily and pressed his fingers against his temple. “But he’s so protective of the girl.”
“You have found me a Windwalker.” The Emperor’s words were nearly reverent, his excitement palpable. Then his expression darkened. “Why would my son keep this from me?”
“Harnessing the true usefulness of her power, at the least, will require her enslavement. If not her death.” Victor shrugged, as though the thought was nothing to him.
“Aldrik, my idiot son with his mother’s heart.” The Emperor sighed heavily. “Thank you for telling me this. I will have the girl conscripted into service.”
“If I may advise you . . .” The Emperor motioned for Victor to continue. “Be patient. The two are fire and air. Aldrik can be untamed, as you know, and she can barely control her magic at present. I think there will come an opportunity for you to use her to your advantage.”