by Elise Kova
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 arch
ives? 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?”
Vi arched a single eyebrow and, rather than saying anything, strode out of her room like a princess. She locked the door behind her and returned the key to her pocket. Without waiting for him to lead, Vi descended toward Egmun’s office.
“Are you his errand boy now?” Vi asked dryly.
“I’m his most valued assistant.”
“I bet you are.”
Victor paused in front of the door to the office of the Minister of Sorcery. A smirk spread across his lips. “I know I’m not up half the night, snooping through Tower storerooms and stealing Mother-knows-what.”
Vi kept a sneer at bay, barely. She was too tired to deal with this petulant child. Vi took a step forward but Victor straightened. Even though she was higher on the slope of the hall, they were still eye to eye.
“Don’t question what I do,” Vi cautioned, “for it is far beyond the realm of what your mortal mind can comprehend.”
“Mortal mind? Just who do you think you are?”
“I am the one who has seen the end, and will see the beginning of your destiny,” she said ominously. It took everything in her not to have him flat on the ground, threatening him within an inch of his life. Only Taavin’s abundance of caution, and Vi’s fragile self-control, held her back. “Now get out of my sight.”
“With pleasure.” Victor didn’t back down, right until the end. He took three steps backward and turned.
Vi watched him leave, firing curses at his back. Somehow, he knew she’d been in the storeroom. That made it only a matter of time until Victor found Adela’s room. He was smart enough to piece it together, and all the pieces were secreted there.
The only thing that kept her from chasing after him was the knowledge that she had taken the key book on Oparium that contained Adela’s maps. Additionally, the journals were useless without the library books also in Vi’s possession. Trusting she was one step ahead, Vi knocked on the door to the minister’s office.
“Enter,” he said sharply. Vi did as he bid and found Egmun pacing the room. He stopped, spinning to face her, the moment the door closed. “I need to see it.”
“You’d do well to not make demands of me in such a tone. I’m not one of your lapdogs.” Vi was too tired to play along. He seemed genuinely taken aback.
“And you’d do well not to not risk this shaky alliance we’ve formed. You need the prince, after all.”
She didn’t. Taavin did. But Vi was dutifully following his instructions still. Here she was, keeping the world on the rails, while Victor could be off hunting for the crown. Her lead on him slipped with every moment she wasted on Egmun.
“Bickering will get us nowhere.” Vi pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “What have I done to earn such mistrust?”
“Nothing, and that’s much the problem. I have given you everything these past weeks. I’ve given you food, shelter, access to the prince, even the ability to rummage through my Tower without an escort.” Victor had run right to Egmun after tracking her last night. “And you’ve given me no indication other than your word that you have the sword at all.”
Vi narrowed her eyes, though her displeasure was mostly directed inward. She’d been too focused on her movements and hadn’t been accounting for the desires of others. The first night she’d seen Aldrik in the library, researching the North, came back to her.
“The Emperor is taking an interest in the Crystal Caverns, isn’t he?” she said softly, so as not to speak over the pieces clicking together in her mind. Egmun’s startled eyes said all she needed to know. The Emperor was interested in the Crystal Caverns because he wanted to go to war with the North and was looking for a secret weapon to bring with him. “You want to get there before he does.”
Egmun was silent for a long moment. Then, “Yes.”
“I’ll show you the sword.”
“You will?”
“Yes, but you must stay here and do not track me to its hiding place. I will know if you do.”
“You really have it?” His voice was hurried and thin, as if he was afraid the truth was something that could break if he spoke too loudly.
“I always have.”
Vi shut the door to the office firmly behind her and began down the halls. The spark had lit an inferno in her stomach, the likes of which she hadn’t felt in some time. She wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming out of her ears.
She wanted to give chase down the hall and find Victor. She wanted to demand he tell her what he had seen of her move
ments, what books he had read, how close behind her he was. But that pursuit would have been futile.
Victor was a mortal, chained to fate, destined to heed the whims of two heartless gods. She couldn’t concern herself with him any more than she concerned herself with the rats that ran through the sewers underneath her feet.
The walk to the stables did little to calm her. When Vi arrived, she could feel the sparks crackling around her knuckles. She scanned the mostly empty stalls, looking for a woman she recognized.
“You look like you’re ready to murder someone,” Deneya said, emerging and wiping her hands on a rag that she returned to a belt loop. “Don’t think I’ve seen you like this since Norin. Welcome back.”
“I need the sword you’ve been working on.”
“It’s not ready.”
“It’s going to have to be.”
Deneya sighed and shrugged. “All right, follow me.”
Vi followed her up a side stair that wound inside the outer wall of the palace surrounding the stables. Inside the wall was a series of doors that led to rooms for each of the stable hands, fitted with a bed, table, dresser, and a single window that overlooked the horses beyond.
“Here.” Deneya lifted a short sword from behind her dresser, holding it out to Vi.
“It isn’t long enough.”
“He doesn’t know that.”
Vi pulled the sword from the scabbard. It was almost unnaturally light. The metal was nearly white from the alloys used.
“I was going to make a longer one. This was merely a first attempt. But it seems we ran out of time.”
“You’re right, he doesn’t know the difference.” Vi held out the sword before her, staring at the weapon intently. “Durroe watt ivin.” Yellow glyphs, tinted with white, surrounded the sword. They sank into the weapon and painted it with new colors. Bright splashes of blue swirled against deeper shades, nearly purple. Sparks of magic drifted off the weapon. Vi gave it a swing, watching the illusion cling to the blade.
“It’s more convincing than any other illusion I’ve seen here. I’m sure he’ll buy it.” Deneya laced her fingers and placed them behind her head. “But what’s the rush?”