by Elise Kova
The flames danced from white to orange, to a crimson so deep it was nearly black. The color changing was new, and Vi had no idea what it meant. She leaned forward on instinct, dipping her face into the flames.
“The present burns away, leaving the future to rise from its ashes.” Vi reached down, grabbed a fistful of ash, and threw it into the air. “You will march to victory, and it will be won upon your silver wings.” Go to war, Vhalla, and win. “But the winds of change you will set free will also shatter the tender hope on which you fly.” Victor will rise to power, and nearly everything you thought you loved will be threatened. “You will lose your dark sentry.” Only to see him rise again as an Emperor.
Vhalla clutched the watch with white knuckles as she spoke. Vi could almost see the girl trembling.
“Two paths will lie before you: night and day,” Vi continued. “Go west by night. Fade into the comforting obscurity of a shroud of darkness. You will find a familiar happiness there, if you can ignore yearnings for the sun.”
Go west? Why go west? She wanted to ask. But her mouth was not her own. Panic rose. Vi wanted to claw at her throat, but her hands weren’t her own.
“The other road will burn away your falsehoods by the light of dawn. You will own your wants for all to see. But take caution, for the fire that will expose you will give birth to an even greater power that will consume the land itself.
“And now, for payment.”
“Ah, right.” Vhalla put down her sack, her hands still trembling as she fished for gold.
“I do not want coin.”
“What do you want then?”
“That watch.” Vi’s hand pointed to the one Vhalla had been holding. The one that had been carried from another world, marked by Yargen, and was now imbued with Vhalla’s energy.
“This one? All right, of course.”
Vhalla passed it over, and as she did, Vi felt a shock of magic shoot up her arm. It was the same feeling as when she touched a crystal. Her watch had always been an item of fate, but its purpose had shifted. The token now waited for the moment it would be returned.
“Our current business has concluded.” Vi stood. Vhalla slipped into her shoes, all but running toward Daniel. Vi watched as they left, adding ominously, “Heed my words, Vhalla Yarl,” before the young woman disappeared onto the street beyond.
She collapsed with a gasp, clinging to the door frame to keep upright. Her body had been held by puppet strings as she’d acted out the motions at the commands of another.
“This was what you always wanted, isn’t it? A puppet in mortal form?” Vi rasped, feeling sensation return to her limbs. Her skin tingled in response, as if to say a delighted yes. She pushed herself off the ground, standing as tall as she could, but knowing just how small she was. She’d seen it, from Yargen’s view: the world was little more than a speck. “You’ll have it. But not for a little longer. Give me a little longer.” Vi’s attention drifted to the stairs.
Inside her mind, began a persistent background percussion.
Tick… tock…
The countdown ran not to the end of the world. But to the end of her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Soricium was a desolate wasteland compared to Vi’s memories of the thriving capital of the North.
They arrived with the military as soldiers once more. The Imperial forces had been split after an assassination attempt on Vhalla’s life failed. Baldair, Aldrik, and the Emperor all took a different path to Soricium, in yet another variation from the worlds Taavin knew. Unfortunately, Vhalla traveled with the Emperor. And since Vi, Deneya, and Taavin were under Baldair, they had a long march without eyes on Vhalla or Aldrik.
Vhalla was the first to arrive in the Northern capital. Alone. Something had gone wrong involving the prince along the way. Vi heard stories of Vhalla’s heroism, and much like in the Crossroads following the sandstorm, each one was more impossible than the last.
There was no one they could ask for the exact details. So Vi, Taavin, and Deneya spent their days agonizing, holding their breath, and waiting. Surely, Vhalla and Aldrik couldn’t die. At least, she wanted to believe that. But if the goal was to change things, then she had to become comfortable with anything changing. These people didn’t mean anything to her, not really.
Yet, as the days passed, Vi realized she didn’t want to imagine a world without Vhalla or Aldrik. They were not her parents, but much like Jax, they wore the faces of the people she loved. She wanted to save this world for them, even if they were nothing to her.
Or rather, she was nothing to them.
When she finally did see Aldrik and Vhalla, together again, in the flesh, Vi felt ten stone lighter.
“I knew they’d be fine,” Deneya said as she followed Vi up to the top of the ridge that surrounded the basin that contained Soricium. They went to the axe together, Taavin catching some of the few hours of sleep he needed back in their tent.
“You did not.” Vi glanced over her shoulder. No matter how many times Vi came up here, the sight still jarred her. The Empire had burned and cut down every tree of the forest, save for the most sacred, which remained safe behind the walls of the fortress.
“I did,” she insisted. “Yargen is looking out for the girl.”
Vi snorted. Yargen was too busy clawing at Vi’s ribcage and skull, seeking control over her body, to focus on Vhalla Yarl. “Either way, I’m glad.”
“Is the tomb far?” Deneya asked, changing the conversation.
“No, it’s just beyond the top of the ridge.” Vi led Deneya into the forest, following a familiar path. This was a new world, but her feet still knew the way.
“Seems like such an obvious place for the axe to be.”
“Only because we know what to look for. The North is filled with ruins like this. The Empire doesn’t know what’s important and what isn’t.”
Deneya folded her hands and placed them behind her head, strolling. Ahead, the towering stones of familiar ruins loomed. Vi’s feet slowed.
“It was night the last time I came here, too.” The ruins looked almost identical to how they did in her memory. “It was the first time I saw the end of the world.”
“Let’s hope this time is more cheerful.” Deneya clasped her shoulder. “We’re only here for a look, right?”
“For now.” Though Vi was already bracing herself for the first time her fingers closed around the axe. Each of the crystal weapons showed her a vision more vivid and important than the last. “The entrance is this way.”
She led Deneya to the far back side of the ruins. Unlike when she had last been here, when obsidian had lined the opening, there were now live crystals with jagged points barring entry. In her time, her mother had taken the axe, and the crystals had died. It was the very act Vi and Deneya were working to circumvent.
Resting her hand on one of the crystals, Vi reached out into the network of magic and affirmed that the crystals stemmed from a single source. The axe was within, still safe and sound. The stones crackled and shrank to her will. Exercising control of them was becoming all too easy.
“After you.” Vi motioned down the path.
“Oh, why thank you, fair lady.” Deneya gave a bow with a flourish that made Vi bark with laughter.
“But of course, oh noble knight.” Vi held out her hand as if she was escorting Deneya to a ball. With a snicker, Deneya took it and they dusted off the nobility neither of them needed any longer, parading forward.
Deneya’s laughter faded as they reached the circular center of the ruins. Crystals lined the walls, pulsing faintly with magic. Moonlight streamed through an oculus in the roof, casting an eerie ring around the axe embedded in a crystal-covered pedestal.
“This is it, then.”
“It is.” Vi gazed at the axe, as though it were about to grow a mouth and begin speaking to her. If it could, the secrets it could tell. Judging by the power that hung in the air, the axe hadn’t been moved since it was originally placed here by the daughter of
the Champion. It was one of the few places on the Dark Isle where the crystals hadn’t ever been touched. “This is a place of great purpose,” she whispered.
“It makes me feel uncomfortable.”
“Does it?” Vi tore her eyes away to look at Deneya.
“Yes… as though everything here is on a delay. Or that we’ve stepped into another world.”
“Perhaps we have…” Vi trailed off. Her attention was on the axe once more. Her presence was already empowering the weapon, imbuing the air between her and it with divine energy. She thought of the otherworldly place Yargen waited.
“Then all the more reason for me to get this over with as quickly as possible.” Deneya stepped forward. Vi matched the movement and the woman held out a hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t touch it. Just taking some measurements.”
Vi eased away, folding her arms to keep them from lashing out. She’d lunge for Deneya to keep her from the axe.
Turning, Vi put her back to the weapon as Deneya began to measure the handle and blade. Some part of her couldn’t bear to see another person so close to the crystal weapon.
Nervous energy rose within her and Vi began to pace. This wouldn’t take too long. Deneya didn’t need much. She needed to make an axe that was relatively close in shape and size, not perfectly identical. Vi would use the shift to handle the rest. They would leave soon.
What was taking so long?
She lapped the tunnel once more and froze as she reached its mouth. Soft voices echoed to her.
“Has anyone ever gone in?” That was undeniably Vhalla Yarl’s voice. She was here. Yargen above, why was she here?
“In? No,” a masculine voice responded, one Vi recognized but couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t Aldrik. Which then begged the question: Why was Vhalla here in the middle of the night with a man who wasn’t Aldrik?
Too many questions, not enough time for answers. “Durroe watt ivin.” An illusion fell like a curtain over the opening. Just in case they somehow saw through it, Vi blocked the entry, crystals growing with a wave of her hand.
“What the—”
Vi clamped her hand over Deneya’s mouth. “They’re here,” Vi whispered.
“Who?” Deneya said just as softly when Vi released her face.
“Vhalla Yarl and someone else.”
“Taavin said she wasn’t coming until the end of the war.”
“Taavin was wrong.” Vi cursed under her breath. “I’ve illusioned the only opening… they should leave.” Her eyes drifted to the crystal axe. She should’ve just taken it and been done with this place.
They waited in breathless silence. Let them leave, Vi willed. She didn’t know what it would mean if Vhalla somehow got the axe now.
She’d listened to stories of nearly a hundred worlds from Taavin’s memories, and in none of them did Vhalla Yarl get the axe before the war was over.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Vhalla’s male companion asked.
“We have to go in through the top,” Vhalla responded.
Deneya cursed under her breath and turned to Vi. Now what? she mouthed as Vhalla and the man continued discussing the impossibilities of the climb.
“Durroe watt ivin,” Vi said and felt an illusion slip over her shoulders.
“Lovely makeover. You’ll be so mysterious you’ll scare her away.” Deneya spilled her sarcastic words hastily.
“That’s the hope,” Vi replied back in all seriousness. “We don’t want her taking the axe until we’ve had a chance to replace it with the fake.” She had no interest in repeating her mistake in letting others take the crown.
“So you’re going to scare her away.” Comprehension lit up Deneya’s face brighter than the soft light of the crystals.
“Try to. Help me?”
“Always.”
Soft panting stole their attention. “Durroe watt radia,” she and Deneya both whispered in unison, a moment before Vhalla leaned over the opening above and let out a soft gasp as she beheld the contents of the cavern within.
Don’t do it, Vi pleaded silently as she watched the woman inch toward the edge.
Her plea went ignored, as Vhalla stepped off into the empty air. Magic flared up around the young woman with the unique signature Vi recognized from her own mother. She fell gracefully to a large crystal, until her foot slipped and she whacked her head.
Vi bit back a groan. Out of everything Vhalla Yarl faced, Vi would rebel against fate and all the gods that wrote it, if Vhalla died from a clumsy slip and fall and that was what ended the world, somehow.
But Vhalla, thankfully, didn’t die from a tumble onto a rogue crystal. She stood, walking through the room in awe, touching the tips of crystals along the way. Vi watched as they responded to her magic, tilting her head slightly. The pulses of power were similar to Vi’s own early experimentations with crystals.
Vhalla’s eyes were on the blade, as she approached with shuffled steps. She inspected it, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. As if sensing Vi’s watchful gaze, she looked over her shoulder, and then back to the weapon. Vi could see Vhalla’s uncertainty and chose to capitalize on it. Dropping her illusion, Vi heard the softest of whispers from Deneya at her side.
As Vhalla’s finger met the crystal of the blade, the whole room lit up.
Deneya’s illusion of light faded into feathers cascading to the floor. The woman always had a flair for theatrics. Vi had known that since Egmun and Aldrik in the Crystal Caverns, and prayed it helped them once more.
“Leave it,” she said, loud enough for Vhalla to hear.
Vhalla looked in her direction, eyes wide, like those of a prey animal.
“Leave the blade; do not take Achel from its tomb.” Vi used the old name for the weapon, given by the Northerners. It was the name she’d known from stories told around campfires growing up. Vi rested her hand on the crystals behind her, allowing them to create an opening back out to the forest beyond. She’d long since let go of her illusion over the entrance. “Heed my warning and leave. Do not touch the magic of the Gods, Vhalla Yarl.”
“Who are you?”
“I’ve had many names,” Vi gave her standard response as an illusion slipped over her, washing her in light.
Deneya grabbed her wrist, and they both were enveloped by Deneya’s other glyph, which rendered them invisible once more. Vi shared a worried look with her friend. They both returned their attention to Vhalla Yarl, waiting to see what fate held.
The whole affair must’ve overwhelmed the young woman, for she was on her knees, gasping for air. Or perhaps the magic of the crystals was too much for her, after all. Vi felt energized by them, but even she could recognize that the air was thick with their power in this ancient place. Vhalla stood and went for the axe. For one brief, glorious second, she hesitated and turned to the opening Vi had created.
But Vhalla didn’t move as Vi had hoped. Instead, she gripped the handle of the axe and freed it with a tug.
Vi covered her mouth to conceal a groan. The noise was part frustration and part the uneasy sensation of all the magic that had seeped out of the axe over the centuries returning eagerly to its origin. The crystals around them went dark as the blade briefly shone brighter. Without magic to support them, the stones began to crack and shatter.
Vhalla Yarl sprinted past them, axe in hand, into the dark night as dormant crystals fell.
Deneya held her arms over Vi’s head, shielding her from the rain of glass-like stone. She watched as Vhalla sprinted by them, axe in hand. Vi nearly lashed out to tackle the woman for the weapon.
When the stones were done falling, Vi went to the opening and looked around. There was no sign of Vhalla or her companion.
“Now what?” Deneya said gravely, emerging to stand at Vi’s side.
“I’m not sure exactly,” Vi said thoughtfully. “But this means we can’t rely on anything from here on to be as we expect. We’re done playing by Taavin’s rules.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Th
ink about this,” Taavin pleaded as Vi stormed out of their tent. Deneya gladly stayed behind to pack their things. She clearly wanted nothing to do with the heated debate between Vi and Taavin over their next steps. “It makes a lot more sense to try to get into the fortress after the war is over, when they’re negotiating the terms of surrender.”
“If Tiberus negotiates those,” Vi retorted.
“He negotiated for the West and that was after a ten-year siege. There was much more bad blood then to prevent such talks.”
“He had brides to pick from, and he was a different man then.”
“Fine, you’re not wrong,” Taavin mumbled.
“No, I’m not.” Vi spun, fighting to keep her voice down so she didn’t draw attention to them. “Who’s to say he won’t torch the fortress and all its sacred trees like he torched the rest of the North?”
“Are you doing this because you think it’s the right thing, or is it personal?”
“This has nothing to do with me!”
“It has everything to do with you. Ever since you first stepped foot on this world, you’ve been trying to circumvent what must be done. You’ve been pushing against me.”
“Maybe because you need to be pushed.”
“I’m not doing this. This is against every plan—”
“Forget the plans, Taavin. Vhalla was there tonight. She has the axe.” Even though it wasn’t the first time she’d told him, Taavin still looked shell-shocked by the words. “We don’t know what will happen next. We have to act. And, yes, the only thing that’s important to me is getting that axe and seeing Raspian defeated by Yargen, whatever that takes.” She had to force the final words out. “But I know this matters to you. And out of love and respect for you—”
“For me? Not the world?” he blurted the interruption.
“Yes, for you, you frustrating man.” Vi grabbed his hand, squeezing tightly. “I’m trying to honor your wishes because I love you. This is your one chance for me to continue setting up the life of a new Champion. Either we go to Sehra tonight and leave this place after, or we leave now and forget the next Champion entirely.”