by Elise Kova
Chapter Thirty-Two
Vi rode in front, Taavin tucked in close behind her, as they made their way through the Crossroads. He clung to her as she navigated the narrow roads to the Great Imperial Way that would take them south. Vi didn’t know when the Knights would capture Vhalla, but she suspected they hadn’t in the two hours it had taken to see Deneya off.
Even still, Vi rode hard. Hard enough that Taavin had to remind her to ease up. They would surely arrive in Mosant before the Knights so long as they didn’t kill the only horse they had.
They traveled by moonlight at night, and covered their heads during the day to keep safe from the oppressive sun. When the icy winds of the great Southern pines overtook the landscape, Vi knew they were close. The moment they entered the pine forest, Vi guided them down a hunter’s trail.
By dawn, they arrived, their breath turning into clouds that caught the morning’s first light.
“Look, there.” Vi raised a hand, pointing to a windmill high on an upper ridge of Mosant. “If they’re coming from the deep Waste rather than the main road, they should be able to navigate up the other side of that ridge without townsfolk ever seeing them.”
“Is it the same one from your vision?”
“I think so, but there’s one way to find out. Come, we’ll go through the forest and keep out of sight.”
Her plan made their pathway up the ridge much slower. At a certain point, Vi made the decision to tie off the horse in a circle of trees. There were ample shrubs holding on to their brilliantly colored leaves to conceal the mount. Continuing on foot, they scaled the mountainside, higher and higher until they could see the path that led to the windmill.
Vi stared at it, examining the door, the cracks in the worn stone; she took stock of every last detail and compared it to her memory of the vision. When she was satisfied, she finally said, “It’s the same,” and breathed a sigh of relief.
“So Vhalla will come here, then.”
“She’ll be taken here.”
“Assuming we’re not too late.”
“I don’t think we are.” Vi scanned the ground for signs of a struggle. “They killed a woman in my vision in front of the steps. Even if they removed the body, there would be blood.”
“And there hasn’t been rain to wash any bloodstains away.” Taavin ran a hand through his hair. He wore an uncertain expression. “So we’re either very late, or slightly early.”
“I’m confident in the latter. We had a head start on them.”
Vi sat down in the brush, situating herself against a tree where she could see the front door through the leaves. Taavin crouched down next to her. After the first hour, he shifted to lean against the tree as well. By the time night fell, he was sitting with his side flush against hers.
“They might not be coming tonight,” he murmured. The first spoken words in hours startled her.
“You’re likely right.”
“Want me to make camp down the hill, with the horse?”
“You can, if you want. I’d like to stay here and keep an eye out. It was night in my vision, so who knows when they might arrive.”
“All right.” Taavin stood, brushing himself off.
Vi listened to him go. She tipped her head back against the tree. The night was still and the evening birds were singing. Even when the world was nearing its possible end, the birds still sang as if nothing was wrong. Footsteps approached, and Vi turned to see Taavin there, holding their blankets.
“I thought you were going to make camp?”
“I am making camp.” Taavin sat right next to her and threw the blanket over both their legs. He leaned forward, tucking it in on the sides. “You didn’t really think I was going to leave you here alone in the cold, did you?”
“Maybe I did.” Vi gave him a tired grin. After riding through the night, she was exhausted.
“I should be offended by that.”
She laughed airily and rested her temple on his shoulder. Taavin gave her a light kiss on the crown of her head. He stretched an arm behind her with the corner of the second blanket in hand. Soon enough, she was bundled against him.
“Do you want to rest?” Vi murmured, already feeling sleep overtake her.
“No, I’ll take first watch.”
“All right.” She yawned. “Wake me if you see the Knights.”
“I will,” he promised.
Vi slept surprisingly well that night. The next morning, she and Taavin watched the windmill’s sole occupant—an elderly woman—make her way into town. She did not so much as glance in their direction as she passed the thick brush concealing them.
The woman being alive meant for certain they’d made it before the Knights, which helped Vi sleep even sounder the second night. It was still possible that things had changed so much between her vision and now that they wouldn’t bring Vhalla here. Vi mentally gave them two more days before they would split up; he would wait here and she would head off to the Crystal Caverns.
Even if the world had changed since her vision and Knights didn’t come to the windmill, she knew they would end up there. They always did. In every world, the crystal weapons sought to be returned to the Caverns.
Vi was dozing when the thunder of hooves startled her. She straightened and listened carefully.
“I hear it too,” Taavin whispered as he hastily folded their blankets.
Sure enough, a group rode up. Vi recognized Schnurr at its head. Vhalla was tied to a horse in the center, looking even worse than she had in Vi’s vision with heavy shackles, inlaid with crystals, around her wrists. Vi balled her hands into a fist and gritted her teeth. She wasn’t sure which made her angrier: the fact that the Knights of Jadar were a perpetual thorn in her side, or what they had done to Vhalla.
She and Taavin remained crouched low, holding their breath, and watched what unfolded through breaks in the brush.
The elderly woman they’d seen before came out to greet the travelers on her doorstep. She couldn’t get out a word before Schnurr skewered her through the eye with his sword. Vi didn’t even wince as he cast the woman aside. Her corpse landed in an identical position to the vision Vi had seen.
“It’s the same,” she whispered as quietly as possible into Taavin’s ear.
“Good.”
She didn’t know if she’d call this “good” but it was at least playing out just as Yargen had showed her. The Knights of Jadar untied Vhalla from the saddle and carried her in. Vi watched for a second time as the woman was thrown unceremoniously onto bags of grain. The group followed her inside and the door closed behind them.
“What now?” Taavin whispered.
“I… don’t know,” Vi admitted. “This is everything I saw.”
Taavin pursed his lips, clearly thinking over their options. “Well, we know they’re going to take her to the Crystal Caverns.”
“Yes, and we can’t let them do that.”
“Do you want to free her, then?” he asked. “We’re not playing by the rules anymore, right? We don’t care if we change fate. This is it.”
Vi struggled to find words. “Who are you, and what have you done with my Taavin?”
“I will always be your Taavin.” He gripped her hand.
“Let’s wait and observe,” Vi declared. “We’ll move when an opening presents itself.”
“You’ve always been good at seeing opportunities.”
She gave him a weary smile and brought her attention back to the windmill.
Night fell. The movement in the windmill settled and Vi assumed everyone had lain down to rest. She wondered how much closer she’d let them get to the Crystal Caverns. She’d killed Knights there before; she could gladly do it again. Perhaps she’d ambush them when they left. The creative and delicious possibilities for destroying them were endless.
“What was that?” Taavin whispered in the still night.
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“Listen,” he hissed and cupped his hand around his ear, leanin
g toward the windmill.
Vi did the same motion and closed her eyes, focusing. Sure enough, there were dull thuds coming from within the windmill.
“Wind scum!” someone shouted.
“Durroe watt radia,” Vi said as she bolted from the brush, dashing over to one of the windows. She was barely tall enough to see inside, even if she jumped. But she bounced like a fool to get glimpses of the fight raging within.
Vhalla, still cuffed, was managing to hold her own against the Knights. She was fumbling with a key, trying desperately to remove the cuffs.
Vi jumped again.
The tides of the skirmish had changed. The Knights were advancing. One held the crystal weapon. Vi’s heart raced even faster.
“Kill the wind bitch!” a man shouted. The other raised the axe.
She could let Vhalla die. If they weren’t working toward the birth of a new Champion any longer, Vhalla wasn’t technically needed. She could let them fight it out, kill whoever was left, and take the axe. No one would know what happened to it. If she let Vhalla and the Knights die here and now, everyone who knew about the axe’s whereabouts would be dead. In one fell swoop, every loose end would be tied. It’d be clean. No one would come hunting for Vi and she’d finally, finally have the axe.
Vi pushed the thoughts away in horror.
No, that wasn’t clean in the slightest. That wasn’t right, or just. There was still no magic from Vhalla. The woman wasn’t fighting back with the ferocity Vi knew she possessed.
Vi had to intervene.
She threw out her hand and cast a ball of flame toward the door. The wood caught instantly and the flames darted within, as if her magic was seeking out the axe itself.
“Vi, that’s enough!” Taavin hissed from their hiding place. Her eyes were on the dancing flames eagerly consuming her magic and growing in size. She imagined those sacks of wheat they’d thrown Vhalla onto; it would burn just like the wheat Vi had thrown into the fire in the curiosity shop. “Stop, or you’ll kill Vhalla too!”
She withdrew, both in person and in magic. Vi retreated into the bushes, lowering the flames just as Vhalla emerged, sprinting down the front steps of the windmill.
The young woman looked around frantically. “Aldrik?” she called.
Your prince didn’t come for you. But from a world away, Vi had. She didn’t know if she’d saved Vhalla, or risked killing her with her improvisation. Yargen only knew the truth.
Vhalla wasted no time mounting a horse. She still had the axe, stashed away now in a saddlebag. Vi continued to stare, eyes glinting in the firelight, wondering if saving her and burning the Knights had been the right decision… or if it had somehow cost them their world for a final time.
As if sensing her piercing gaze, Vhalla glanced over her shoulder in their direction as Taavin gripped her ankle and whispered, “Durroe watt radia.” Vi hadn’t even realized her glyph had fallen when she’d started the fire.
If Vhalla saw anything, it was only for a moment, before Vi vanished from existence and remained the unseen hand of the Solaris Empire.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Vhalla rode into Mosant. Vi emerged from the brush, watching her descend the ridge. Men and women, up at this late hour, greeted her.
“What now?” Taavin asked. She hadn’t even heard him come up to her side.
“She’ll be too well-attended for us to take the axe here.”
“Why not just grab it?”
“Because if we grabbed it by force, Vhalla would fight us. Knowing her, she’d do so to the death. I don’t know if she fully understands what she has or not… but given how carefully she’s kept it secret, I think she has some idea.” Vi had employed similar logic when she’d decided not to take the crown.
“If we’re committing to this being the end of the vortex, then we don’t need her anymore.” His thoughts had run parallel to hers, and Vi hated it.
I need her, a voice all Vi’s own shouted from within. “I don’t want to kill her,” Vi admitted.
“You could’ve fooled me with that fire.”
“I know. It was impulsive.”
“Your impulses have always been as wild as your flames.”
One side was her, the other was Yargen. Success or failure seemed to depend on if she was the one in control or not. Had Yargen been the one in control of that fire?
“I don’t want to act impulsively,” Vi murmured, dismissing the notion with a shake of her head. She had to move forward. “The least impulsive thing to do would be remove ourselves for a while and stop chasing after the axe. We know where it will ultimately end up and we can wait for it to arrive.”
“The Caverns.”
“Exactly. No matter how much has changed… I know Victor. The only time he’ll relent in his search for the power of the crystals is when he’s dead,” Vi said bitterly, her eyes still on Vhalla below. “Let’s allow fate to bring the axe to us.”
People were beginning to stream out of their homes. Vi noticed more and more turning in their direction. The windmill still burned.
“It’s time to go.” She retreated away from the ridge and Taavin followed her. They hiked down to their horse and rode through the familiar forest, back to the cabin that still stood at the foot of the Crystal Caverns.
The grip of winter was undeniable. It wouldn’t be long until the first snowfall of the season blanketed the entire mountainside. Vi sat at the entrance to the Crystal Caverns with Taavin, waiting as they had every day for weeks.
“What if they’re not coming?” she was finally forced to wonder aloud.
“They always—” He stopped himself short, realizing that referencing what had “always” happened was now unhelpful. “Maybe things have changed too much and Victor won’t go after the axe. We could go to them and see what’s been happening? There may be an opportunity to take it at the palace.” Vi chewed over this idea. “We’ll take the main path toward Solarin. There’s no way we’ll miss them on the way.”
“If we leave now, we’ll make it just after nightfall.” Vi stood and extended her hand to Taavin. “One last time to Solarin?”
He took her hand and Vi helped him up.
Sure enough, they made it to the palace in the early evening. Their gold was starting to run dry, but at least they had enough to board the horse. Vi and Taavin slipped into the palace—an act that was now second nature—and headed for the Tower of Sorcerers.
The Tower was quiet. Vi and Taavin moved unseen. She’d been planning to head to Victor’s office first—at least, until she saw a haggard man stumbling into the Tower library.
“Where are you going?” Taavin hissed as she tugged him in that direction.
“It’s Aldrik.”
“So?”
“Wherever Aldrik is, Vhalla usually isn’t far behind. She was the last one to have the axe, so it makes sense to check with her first.”
Taavin relented, and followed her into the library.
The crown prince swayed, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head. He looked drunk, but Vi couldn’t tell for sure. He began rummaging through the shelves, picking up a book and dropping it heavily on a table before reaching for the next.
Just what had transpired here while they were waiting for the axe? Was the prince’s state some indication of foul play?
As if guided by fate, Vhalla appeared in the doorway. The young woman watched the man for a while, before announcing her presence with a soft, “My prince.”
“What—when did you get here?”
“Aldrik, what’s wrong?”
“Baldair. He’s sick, Vhalla.”
Vi watched the exchange. A rush of heat went to her head and her stomach churned, as though she was the one who was sick. She’d overlooked the first rule Taavin had taught her in these past weeks of waiting: Yargen always demanded her due. Even in changed worlds. The ink on the pages of some people’s destiny was long dried.
“It’s serious, isn’t it?”
“It started as a cold, a
ches, chills. It’s autumn fever.”
The two continued speaking, but Vi tuned out the majority of the conversation. She should feel grateful, she presumed. In her world, Baldair died the first time he headed to war. He’d been barely eighteen. She’d prevented that; now, he was twenty-two. She’d bought him three years. It hardly seemed like much of anything at all, but to the people who loved him…
She could see the pain on Aldrik’s and Vhalla’s faces as they spoke of a man they so clearly loved. Family. She remembered what it felt like to lose that.
The two left the library and it was only then that Vi realized her ears had been full of ringing that was just now beginning to fade.
“Are they going to see him?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Taavin replied from her side.
“He’s going to die.”
“I think so.”
Vi released her glyph.
“Where are you going?” Taavin was on his feet as well, appearing out of thin air.
“I don’t know yet.” Vi looked to him, holding out her hand. “Come with me?”
He took her waiting palm and that was all the affirmation she needed. This man was going to follow her to the ends of the earth, but asking him to follow her into the room of a dying man felt like too much.
Vi wandered the palace. Her feet felt the weight of every Vi before her. The ghost of every Solaris was over her shoulders, looking down at her, wondering how—with all the powers she possessed—she could not stop such misfortune from befalling them.
Vi ignored them. She had done her best. Every version of herself had done her best. That much was all Vi could believe.
She walked to the entrance of the royal quarters. Vi could almost smell the sick in the air from where she stood, hidden behind a corner so the guards didn’t see.
“What do you want to do?” Taavin asked in a whisper.
“I want…” She shook her head, sending the notion that had been creeping across her mind scattering like rats. “I want to get away from here. There’s nothing… there’s nothing for me if I stay.”
They retreated into the depths of the castle and slept in their old hideaway. But nightmares of Baldair and Raylynn filled her mind. They haunted her all throughout the next day, and those thoughts brought Vi back to the entrance of the royal quarters. Taavin had agreed to wait for her in the Tower library at her request.