by Elise Kova
Mysst, to craft.
Ruta sot, inner flesh.
The words shouldn’t have worked together. But here, in the Caverns, drawing on the raw power of Yargen, combined with Vi’s unshakable determination, they did. It was as if she had the goddess’s blessing to bend the words of the gods to her will.
For the first time, Vi truly made the words her own.
She was reminded of the moment she was rebuilt between worlds. The light intensified to the point that Vi could see nothing else. And from that light, substance took shape. The sensation of her veins unfurling like ribbons from a fresh heart was keen in her mind. Vi felt skin stretching across the form before her like a blanket, warm and safe.
When the light faded, she was left with the body of a man.
Reaching forward, she cupped the cheek of this lifeless body. It was still a vessel. There was no thought, no essence within. But Vi could see her plan taking shape. She could almost feel him there, and wondered if the warmth underneath her palm was the lingering magic in the air… or a fresh body seeking out life.
Vi gripped the watch with her left hand, white knuckled. With her right, she still caressed the man’s face. Her eyes focused there.
Draw him out.
Lifting her hand off the watch as though it were a crystal, the magic of Yargen within followed her motions. She could see it in countless overlapping glyphs that hovered in the air. If she had to guess, there were ninety-three in total. Each one held the memories and essence of a different Taavin, including this one. They all combined together to compose the man she loved so dearly.
“Narro hath loreth.” Vi said the words to imprint a communication mark on the token—to first anchor Taavin’s consciousness into this new vessel. On instinct, she repeated “Hoolo, hoolo,” over and over. Stabilize, elongate, hold. It was the first word Yargen had given her—the word that had truly brought Taavin to her.
Now, she would imprint that word, that glyph, over top of this body. Hold him there. Keep him within it. Let his consciousness be supported by the bedrock of her will and Yargen’s magic.
“Come to me,” Vi murmured as the magic sank into the flat plane of his chest. “Taavin, come to me. Hoolo.”
The body was still, unresponsive.
“Kot sorre. Kot sidee.” She would push and pull the air through his lungs and the blood through his heart. She saw his chest rise and fall with her words. But the moment she stopped, the body was lifeless once more.
“Taavin,” Vi choked out. Exhaustion was knocking at her edges, cracking her resolve. “You can do this, Taavin,” she pleaded, as though it wasn’t all riding on her shoulders. “Yargen, please.” Vi dropped her head to the man’s bare chest, holding him as though he was already Taavin.
Vi took in a quivering breath. She could feel the magic seeping out of him. She could almost see the flesh turning gray and with it, her hopes dimming.
“Narro hath hoolo,” Vi whispered. But what she really meant was, wake up. Please, my love, wake up.
There was a snap, like a tether breaking. Magic sizzled from the watch around her neck and she was thrown back. Her head hit one of the crystals embedded in the stone floor.
Everything went white and Vi blinked away stars with a groan. The sound echoed through the Caverns as she clutched her head, feeling for blood that thankfully wasn’t there.
Twisting onto her side, her vision still hazy, Vi propped herself up onto her elbow.
There was another groan.
But this time the sound hadn’t come from her.
Chapter Eleven
Vi rubbed her eyes. Red lightning popped behind her eyelids and she snapped them open, looking around. The Caverns looked unchanged. But it felt as if the ground had been upturned, and the air had filled with invisible poison.
Her assessment of the environmental change passed when her gaze fell on a very naked man propping himself, his movements stiff.
“T-Taavin?” she asked weakly. For a terrible moment, she was overcome by fear that somehow everything had gone wrong, and she’d given a body to Raspian himself.
But the man brought his gaze to her, and she beheld the eyes that had never shone more brilliantly, set on an unscarred face. She knew it was him before he even spoke.
“Vi.”
Her arm gave out, as though the sound of his voice reverberating through her took the last of her failing strength. Vi slipped back to the ground, but she didn’t cry out. She laughed.
“Vi, are you all right?” Taavin rushed over, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m fine—just tired.” She made it a point to keep her eyes on his and not let them wander anywhere else. Especially further south than his collarbone. “Are you all right?”
“I’ve never felt better. I feel like—” He stopped short and looked down, taking in his full form for the first time. “I’m naked. And cold.”
“Sorry.” Vi laid back, staring up at the ceiling so he knew she wasn’t taking advantage of the situation. “Making a physical vessel for you to occupy was a lot. I didn’t figure out how to fashion clothing at the same time.”
He gently rested a hand on her cheek. Taavin guided her eyes to his. Just the sight of him brought a noise of joy that was part hiccup and part laughter. An icy tear rolled down her temple.
Wordlessly, Taavin shifted, reached forward, and scooped her up. He sat and held her in his arms. His arms. They were sturdy, and stable, and warm. All things that made him distinctly real.
For the first time in over a decade, Vi was home.
She buried her face into the crook of his shoulder and breathed. He still smelled of warm summer days. Vi wasn’t surprised. Yargen’s magic lived in him now. He was made of the light itself.
“What did you do?” His voice was both stern and soothing.
“I made you a body.”
“How?”
“I was inspired by how Yargen made a new body for me between worlds. I tried to mimic the process.”
“Vi, that’s impossible.”
“Clearly not.” She pulled away and looked to the doorway. Her unease only continued to heighten the longer they were in this center chamber of the Caverns. “I drew power from the Caverns, made your bones out of crystals, and wrapped muscle and flesh around them. You always said Yargen’s magic was life,” Vi explained hastily.
“I didn’t mean like this,” he murmured, kissing her temple lightly.
“Deneya wasn’t wrong when she suspected I’ve been practicing. I have been, nightly, since getting to the capital. Transferring the power from the sword to the Caverns wasn’t difficult. Neither was transferring the power from the Caverns to your body, or your consciousness from the watch to that body.” She glossed over her moments of panic. He didn’t need to know about that.
“We don’t know what this means. You’ve never done this before. You could’ve risked my memories if you failed.”
“What’s done is done. And you’re here now.” Vi pulled away to look him in the eye. “I thought this through, Taavin. You want to ensure the world follows the path of the stones in the river. If the Caverns remain strong, there won’t be a War of the Crystal Caverns. So—”
“So you stored the magic of the Sword of Jadar and some from the Caverns in me… to weaken the barrier on Raspian without actually harming or losing any of Yargen’s power.” He admired her with shining eyes. “You’re brilliant. Reckless, but brilliant.”
“Thank you.” The War of the Crystal Caverns was a convenient excuse. Vi hadn’t done this for the world. She’d done it for herself. She didn’t know what pulling Taavin out of the watch would ultimately mean. But since this would be the last version of the world, Vi didn’t worry too much about it. Not that she would say as much to him. “Maybe you’ll start to trust my reckless ideas more.”
“I likely should.” She didn’t miss the shiver that ripped through him as he spoke.
“We should go.”
“We should,” he agreed.
<
br /> Yet they had a hard time moving. Standing would mean separating, at least for a little, and neither of them seemed to really want to do that at the moment. Vi could hold him until the day the world ended, now that she had him once more.
“Let’s at least get out of this chamber.” Vi rephrased her earlier statement, forcing them both into action. “We’ve lingered for too long.”
“Yes, lets…” The way Taavin looked around and then scowled at the ground beneath them told Vi everything she needed to know: he felt the terrible aura that now hovered in the air of this place, too.
Vi pushed herself onto her feet and swayed a bit. She was only steady by sheer force of will.
Taavin rushed to her side, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I got you.”
“I’m the one who’s supposed to be helping you.”
“You’ve helped me enough,” he said as they hobbled down the stairs and into the antechamber.
“Here’s good, set me down.” Taavin did as instructed and Vi sat with a heavy sigh. She leaned back against a crystal, willing just a little bit more of Yargen’s magic to seep into her and give her strength. With a thought, fire ignited around them in a semicircle, casting a warm glow over them.
“That’s better.”
“My horse is down at the foot of the mountain.” Vi glanced toward the opening. “I have some clothes there. Nothing will fit you right. But it’ll be something so we can get to the cabin. I just need another minute to regain my strength and then I’ll make my way down.”
“I don’t want you trekking over that icy path in this state. I’ll go.”
Vi laughed at that. “You’ll go? You’ll freeze your bits off.”
“I will not.” He looked at her with a scowl.
“You will.” She grinned in reply. “And I’d rather like those bits to stay attached.” She’d meant it as a jest. But the words were softened by sincerity. Her cheeks were warm, and not because of the fire.
“Would you?” he murmured, his face close to hers.
“I would,” Vi whispered. “I’ve dreamed of this moment for years.”
“Really, this moment?” He arched a single dark eyebrow. “This moment where I’m naked in a cavern, a stone’s throw from Raspian’s tomb, holed up to escape the elements and figuring out how not to freeze to death?”
“Goodness, I forgot how annoying you can be in person.”
“No, you didn’t. You could just send me away when you wanted.”
“And now I can’t.”
“And now you can’t,” he echoed tenderly. Taavin reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered. They ran down her cheek, along her jawline, to her ear and back around the nape of her neck. His fingertips pressed into her and Vi tilted her head forward and up on command.
Their lips met.
Soft, was the first thought that ran through her mind. He was so soft. The thin barrier of magic between them was gone.
He was here. And he was hers.
Vi shifted, pressing forward until their sides were flush. He wrapped his arms around her while her fingertips spread across the unbroken, unblemished plane of his chest.
“My scars are gone,” Taavin whispered huskily.
“They are. Mine disappeared too when my body was remade in this world.” Part of her already missed every nook and cranny of his old body. “All the more reason for me to explore and discover this new form you’re in.”
His hand grabbed hers as it grazed over the raised muscles of his abdomen. Taavin swallowed hard and locked his eyes with hers. “Yes.”
“Yes, but?”
“Not here.” He glanced over her flames and toward the open door. “Not so close to him.”
Vi let out a groan of discontent. Taavin wasn’t wrong. But she wanted him to be. She wanted to object to his postponement of this inevitable and most delicious moment between them.
She pried herself away.
“Where are you going?”
“To get my horse.” Vi stepped through the flames.
“Are you sure you can—”
“You stay there and stay warm so you don’t get frostbite and ruin that body I just made. I’ll be fine. If anything was going to motivate me… this was it.” She gave him a wink, and marched out of the Caverns with purpose.
Vi practically flew down the mountainside. Her heart was pounding and her magic was thin. She could feel every ache in her tired body. It had been a long night, and the first makings of a gray winter dawn were on the sky by the time she mounted Prism.
She raced back up the mountain and rode Prism into the entry of the Caverns, his hooves echoing off every surface. Vi ignored the sensation of Raspian, now as clear as Yargen’s essence, permeating the entirety of the Caverns. She dismounted and rummaged through the clothing she’d packed. Luckily, unlike the last time she’d ridden out from a capital city, she was far more prepared for winter.
“Come on over.” Vi relaxed her magic and the flames vanished. Taavin appeared in the archway of the antechamber, clutching himself and bracing against the winter winds that blew in through the cave mouth. Vi held out a pair of oversized trousers—one of the few things she’d lounged in, the brief moments she had time for lounging—and then a woolen knit shirt that should have enough give to fit his taller, broader body.
“This is comical,” Taavin chuckled. It was a deep and rumbling sound, resonating within her more than anything else he’d ever said or done.
“I could never look at you and see anything but perfection.”
“You’re just trying to sweet talk me,” he said as she threw one of her older cloaks over his shoulders. All she needed to do was keep him warm enough to get back to the cabin. Tomorrow she could ride to Mosant and find better-fitting clothes for him.
“I am. Is it working?”
“Yes.” He caught her lips before she could pull away, his hands wrapping around hers.
“Good.” She stepped away, a slight sway and twirl to her step. “Now, let’s go home.”
She mounted first, he swung up behind her. Judging from how tightly he clutched her, Taavin didn’t have much experience riding horses. She’d take it easy on him if she wasn’t so worried about him catching a chill on the way back to the cabin. And if her lower stomach hadn’t become something molten hot at the sight of him.
They left the weakened Caverns behind and rode into the hours just before dawn. Clouds were gathering in the southern skies with what looked like the last blizzard of the season on the horizon. There were worse fates than being snowed in for a while, Vi supposed.
Smoke drifted into the gray sky from the chimney of the modest cabin. The windows splashed golden streaks across the snow. Midsummer was in the stable and it looked like Deneya had even found dry hay from their stores.
“Yargen bless, it’s cold.” Taavin’s teeth chattered. “Or is it just my senses being heightened in this new body after not feeling the world for so long?”
“Both, likely.” Vi and Taavin dismounted and she led Prism into the simple stable attached to the cabin. Trudging in the same line of snow as Deneya, she opened the door without preamble.
“How did it—” Deneya sat up from her bed, freezing the second her eyes landed on Taavin. She narrowed them slightly and tilted her head. “He…”
“I made him a body.”
“You… made him… a body.”
“I haven’t seen you this flummoxed since we first met.” Vi laughed lightly. She hadn’t laughed so much in months—years. Things were finally going her way. After years of practice and waiting and praying, things had gone right.
“People don’t make bodies.”
“Women do it all the time.”
“Firstly, babies don’t count for what we’re talking about here. Secondly, they don’t count because you made an adult man’s body out of thin air. Thirdly, do not dodge the topic.” Deneya stood, walking over to Taavin. She poked his shoulder lightly. “You seem a lot more real than you
used to.”
“It’s an adjustment for me, too.” Taavin had a relaxed smile on his face, as though he’d just eaten a full meal. “I apologize that my presence might make things tighter for a while. You only have two beds here and—”
“You can share mine,” Vi interrupted without hesitation. Both of them seemed surprised, though Vi didn’t know why. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable solution to her. Perhaps neither expected her to be so brazen about it.
Despite what her body looked like, Vi wasn’t a blushing young woman anymore.
“Right, well…” A knowing smirk played on Deneya’s lips. She looked Taavin up and down. “Those clothes clearly don’t fit you.”
“They’re mine,” Vi said. “I was planning on going to Mosant tomorrow to buy some new ones.”
“How about I go now?” Deneya promptly grabbed a satchel off the peg by the door and shoved a few coins into it.
“You don’t have to. I can—”
“I really don’t mind going.” Deneya shook her head and gave Vi a pointed look. “It’s only an hour into town. I can ride leisurely, maybe grab a hot meal. I should be back by noon.”
Oh. A smile slipped across Vi’s cheeks. She understood now. And respected Deneya all the more for it. The woman was a true friend.
“Right, then, you should get off your feet. You look dead tired.” Deneya started for the door, pausing before she opened it. “Have a good, ah, rest.” She left with a wink and not a word more.
They were alone. Taavin and Vi stared at each other as the sounds of Deneya’s horse rumbled away. It didn’t sound like a leisurely pace. But Vi had every reason to believe the woman would slow as soon as she was out of ear- and eye-shot of the cabin.
“Does she always leave just before dawn to head into town?” Taavin asked.
“Can’t say she’s ever done it before.”
“So I should take this to mean she cares deeply about me and my new wardrobe?” He wore a smug, knowing grin. The look suited him. It’d look even better if it was the only thing he was wearing.
“I can’t speak for Deneya… But I can speak for myself.” Vi crossed the distance between them and rested her hands on his hips. “I think I care deeply for you.”