by Elise Kova
She needed to do this alone.
Vi disguised herself as a cleric to pass by the guards. Then, she waited outside the prince’s door. She stood in the hallway till her feet ached, unable to bring herself to enter, doubting every movement until now.
Just when she was about to turn away, Aldrik bolted from Baldair’s room. Vi quickly stepped down the hall and uttered durroe so he wouldn’t see her suspiciously lingering. When Aldrik returned, it was with a cleric. Vhalla Yarl was escorted out next; she was covered in blood that wasn’t her own. Aldrik brought her through a door across the hall and Vi seized the opportunity.
She relaxed the glyph around her fingers. With the clothing of a cleric, she boldly stepped inside Prince Baldair’s chambers. Clerical supplies filled the once-happy room like tiny tombstones.
“Just one of you?” a man said. Vi recognized him by his attire as a head cleric.
“I think more are coming,” Vi said, hoping she wasn’t wrong. She had no idea what she was doing, but it was too late to back out now.
“Good, we need the hands. Now, bring me those rags.”
Vi grabbed a pile of rags that had been set on a low table by the door. She carried them though a side door and into the prince’s bedroom. Here, the stench of illness was so thick that Vi was surprised she couldn’t see it in the air.
The golden prince was coated in blood, doubled over and coughing.
“Don’t just stand there, girl. Put them down and hold this,” the man said sharply, motioning to the bucket in his hands.
Vi placed the rags at the foot of the bed and did as she was told. The head cleric left the room immediately and Vi could hear him clanking around the clerical supplies as Baldair heaved monumental coughs, blood and spittle coming up with each one. When he seemed to find a reprieve, Vi reached for a rag to gently wipe his face.
His cerulean eyes were half-hidden behind heavy lids. But he seemed to gain a moment of focus when he looked at her.
“Hello,” she whispered.
“He—” He was coughing again, and Vi held up the bucket once more to catch everything that came out.
The door to the main room opened and closed. Discussions flew through the air and among the hasty words, Vi gathered the head cleric’s name was Julus.
“I’d like a salve and potion there, suppressants, mostly—something with mint and valerian,” Julus commanded.
“Understood, sir.”
“You two get rid of these bloody rags.”
“What can I do?” Aldrik asked.
“Just stay back, my prince. You’ll only risk contamination.”
“He’s my brother—”
“Let us handle this.”
Vi lingered in the room, somehow retaining her job as the blood collector and mouth wiper through the night. She watched as they poured potions down his throat that the prince instantly coughed up. Vi was there to catch everything in the bucket—exchanging it for a fresh one when it was full of fluid and soiled rags. The clerics were relentless, determined to find something that would stick on Baldair’s sweat-slick skin or stay in his stomach.
Aldrik paced in the main room. Now and then he would come in carrying something Julus ordered, only to be sent away again. Vi watched him drift in and out and an idea crossed her mind.
There was something the crown prince could do.
“I’ll exchange this one myself,” Vi murmured, standing with her bucket. Another cleric instantly filled in the gap she left behind. Vi wandered out to the main room. There were definitely fewer clerics as the night dragged on, and it made the lone man dressed in black stand out all the more.
Vi set the bucket down in a corner. She wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs and approached.
“My prince,” Vi said quietly.
He nearly jumped at the sound of someone addressing him. “What?” Aldrik said curtly, staring down the bridge of his crooked nose.
“I’d like to request something of you.”
“You would like to request something of me?” He arched his eyebrows.
“Yes.”
He sighed dramatically and looked back out the window. Vi would’ve interpreted it as dismissal if not for his sharp, “Well, what is it?”
“Do you know where to find Raylynn?”
“I don’t concern myself with my brother’s concubines.”
“She’s the best swordswoman in the world, far from a concubine,” Vi said and allowed her tone to communicate she didn’t appreciate his word choice.
“Yes I know where she is.” Aldrik sneered at her. But Vi remained passive in the face of his gruff exterior. That confused him all the more.
“Please bring her.”
“Who do you think you are, commanding me?”
“You want to help, don’t you?” Vi snapped back. She gave him an intense stare that she usually reserved for people she was threatening. Aldrik straightened away, as if she’d slapped him. More likely, he had seen his own expression used against him. “Get her.”
Vi walked away, satisfied when she heard his retreating footsteps.
She continued to help the clerics. As Baldair finally seemed to settle, they left the room one by one to get some sleep. Soon, she was one of three, and there was still no sign of Aldrik.
“One of you should stay. I want him monitored around the clock,” Julus commanded. “I’ll be of no use unless I get some rest, and the Emperor will want a full report in the morning.”
“I can watch him until dawn,” Vi volunteered before anyone else could.
“Fine, you do it.” Julus yawned. “You, go to the Tower and get Waterrunners from Victor, or a Groundbreaker. We’re going to need all the hands we can get. This won’t be pretty tomorrow.”
“Yes, of course.”
There were more orders, but Vi didn’t hear them as they left the room, leaving her by herself. She wasn’t alone for long. Within the first hour, Aldrik appeared with a worried-looking Raylynn.
“Thank you, my prince,” Vi said as she rushed over to them.
“How is he?” Raylynn asked.
“Dozing,” Vi replied. Baldair was in a hazy, half-drugged sleep. Not the ideal condition for the conversation she wanted to have. But she had to work with what fate gave her. “He’ll have clerics with him around the clock from now on.”
“That’s a relief.” Genuine kindness crossed Aldrik’s features. It was the first time she saw a glimpse of her father in the otherwise harsh man.
“Now, Raylynn, there’s something I wish to discuss with you. My prince, you should get some rest.”
“First you think to order me, now you’d dismiss me?”
“Are you not tired?” Vi arched her eyebrows in a mirror of what he’d done to her earlier. It gave him the same pause as her earlier look. Vi could’ve sworn she saw recognition somewhere in his assessment of her. Even if his conscious mind wouldn’t admit it, Vi wanted to believe that somehow, he knew who she was. “Keep up your strength. Consider it cleric’s orders.”
His eyes darted between Vi and Raylynn before he turned away, muttering gruffly, and closed the door behind him.
“And who are you?” Raylynn folded her arms over her chest.
“A cleric.”
“No, you’re not,” she said, starting for Baldair’s room. “No cleric orders Aldrik around like that. Besides, I know your face.”
Raylynn delivered the statement so calmly, without even turning, that Vi stopped dead in her tracks. She stared at the woman’s back, waiting for her to turn around with a smug grin. But she never did. That truth was delivered plainly and Raylynn moved immediately to Baldair’s bedside.
Vi followed slowly behind and looked at the scene she had orchestrated. Baldair lay in bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. His eyes fluttered open as Raylynn reached for his hands.
“I’m here,” she whispered. “It’s me.”
It had always been her at his side. Vi had seen it from a distance. She’d heard whispers from the sold
iers. The man known as the “Playboy Prince” had found his singular golden woman long ago.
“Ray…”
“Don’t speak, you idiot,” she scolded lightly, running her fingertips over his forehead. Baldair’s eyes drifted, but before they could close, they landed on Vi. Focus overtook him once more. “Yes, she’s here, too.”
“Who… are you?”
Vi was in two places at once. But this wasn’t the sensation of the unique visions crystal weapons gave her. This was brought on by memory. She was in a different room, standing before a different bed, occupied by someone who would’ve been a family member in a different world, who was destined for death.
She was honest then, and she would be honest now. She’d come here not for fate, after all. But for herself. For the love of family that transcended time and space.
“I’m the one who did this to you.”
“What?” Raylynn seethed, turning sharply.
“I’m the one who pulled the strings of fate to bring you here, to this moment, Baldair. The flame of your life was supposed to be extinguished years ago.” Vi dragged her feet over tiredly, pulling up a chair that had been cast aside so the clerics could have room to work. “I’m the one who tried to keep you alive.” She looked from Baldair to Raylynn. “And I got you to help me do it without you realizing it.” She thought back to reading Raylynn’s future as Fiera. Raylynn had dutifully defended a golden crown, just as Vi had hoped.
“I don’t—” Baldair wheezed and Vi braced herself for another coughing fit. But the cleric’s medicine held and he finished, “understand.”
“I know.” Vi smiled tiredly. “It’s hard to explain. I don’t entirely understand some days myself… even still.”
“You were the one who saved us that night in the West,” Raylynn said. Vi nodded. “It wasn’t the princess.”
“Fiera is dead. I was there when she died.”
“Impossible. You’d have to be at least thirty—forty, even. You don’t look a day past eighteen.”
“I’ve been eighteen a long time.” Vi sighed heavily. Her body would be the one thing she would be ready to give back to the goddess when the time came. She’d mourn the loss of her mind and its thoughts—its memories—but her corporeal form was tired of feeling very old and very young all at once. “I’ve come from a world away, on a mission to save this one.”
Baldair looked at her in a fevered haze. Vi would be shocked if he remembered any of this come morning. But Raylynn’s expression was completely believing. The woman had her mother’s eyes and intuition.
“You brought us here for a reason, to tell us the flame of Baldair’s life will be extinguished?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t fully know myself.” Vi shook her head. “Perhaps because I felt I owed this to you after meddling in your lives for so long.”
“Nox?” Baldair whispered.
“That is one of my names, yes.” Vi smiled tenderly at him. “I wanted you to know that I’m sorry. If I could save you, Baldair… Raylynn, if I could’ve saved your mother, or Fiera, I would have. It wasn’t for lack of trying. But the goddess will have her due and—”
“Enough,” Raylynn said faintly. She gave Vi a tired smile. “I’m not afraid of death, Nox. And I’m not afraid of giving myself to the Mother.”
Vi focused on Raylynn. “Baldair will not survive this. In some ways, that might be a blessing. If the future remains unchanged—” which was a bigger “if” than any of them could know “—there is a storm coming that will claim the lives of many in this city. Even if I saved Baldair now, I’m certain he would be taken then. Fate would catch up with him in more brutal ways each time his life was stolen from it. But if you were to leave—”
“No.”
“But you could—”
“I will stay by his side to the end.” Raylynn met Baldair’s gaze. The prince’s ocean-blue eyes were filled with tears. “On my terms,” she added.
But what Vi heard was, I love you.
“If you stay here much longer, you might not survive.” Vi didn’t know how she could make the woman understand that while Baldair’s life would come to an end regardless, hers wasn’t conscripted by fate.
“Death comes for us all.”
The expression knocked the wind from Vi. She remembered Taavin’s words and how ready he was to give himself over to fate. Before her were two people who had accepted much the same.
“It was fun while it lasted,” Baldair said to the woman gently caressing him.
“It was,” Raylynn agreed.
Vi stood wordlessly, excusing herself from the room. She gave the lovers space until dawn, waiting in the main room of the royal apartment. A new cleric arrived shortly after and Raylynn left with Vi.
They departed the Imperial wing of the palace together, stopping at an intersection in the servants’ halls. Raylynn paused, and Vi stood silently beside her.
“Thank you,” Raylynn said finally.
“You have nothing to thank me for.” Not yet, at least.
A tired smile crossed her lips. “Then why do I have the distinct feeling I have quite a lot to thank you for?” Vi’s lips parted. Raylynn held out her hand. “So, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she managed to squeak out. Vi’s fingers closed around hers and they clasped palms tightly.
With that, the golden-haired swordswoman departed in the opposite direction, as though this was the moment their fates diverged. Vi watched her go. Vi let her go.
Silent tears streamed down her face and fell to the floor in heavy drops. Vi fled to a quiet room where she could mourn alone. She wept for all the hardship and hurt, for everyone she’d lost all over again, and for the family she’d never known.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Vi staggered back to the Tower library. She impressed herself that she managed to change into black robes lifted from a storeroom along the way. Sure enough, Taavin was there, waiting on a window seat, reading, and looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“You were gone quite a while.” He closed his book slowly. Dawn was breaking over his shoulder.
“Prince Baldair is dead.”
Taavin observed her, saying nothing. He didn’t even move. Vi wondered if he was judging her for what she confessed to the prince and Raylynn. She wouldn’t be surprised if somehow he knew what had transpired.
“Is he?”
“Yes.” Vi closed the distance and determinedly wedged herself between Taavin and the window. His arm wrapped around her. His embrace was the one thing that could keep her together. “Well, I don’t think he’s dead yet, but he will be very soon.”
Taavin was quiet for a long moment. Vi met his eyes in the reflection of the window. “Will we be searching for the axe today?”
“I don’t think so. The death of the youngest prince will be the catalyst. All of this is going to come to an end very soon.”
“You think so?”
Vi nodded. “If Vhalla has the axe, I think she might seek out the Caverns on her own to try to find some cure for him, or a way to cheat death.”
“Ah, cheating death—you get it from your mother.”
“Not funny,” Vi said deadpan.
“Forgive me.” He kissed her neck lightly and Vi wriggled closer to him.
“Let’s just… wait here for a while and see what happens? I’m tired, and just want to exist quietly for a while.”
“Certainly.”
At some point, she fell asleep in his arms. Around her, the day began like any other. Guards showed up for work, servants cleaned the halls, and the Tower initiates went in and out of their library, looking oddly at the anonymous couple in the corner.
Once more, time drifted around them and they remained untouched. Vi didn’t feel the turning of the hours. She didn’t feel hunger gnawing at her or exhaustion pricking her eyes. Taavin’s arms were stasis. They were the strength she needed to stand when the moment came.
&
nbsp; And it came in the form of two familiar voices.
“… if there’s one thing Elecia would hate more, it would be being someone else’s puppet.”
Aldrik and Vhalla sprinted by the library opening. The man was half dragging her, leaving Vhalla to take two steps for every one of his long strides. Without needing to be asked, Taavin stood and extended his hand to Vi.
“What will your father…” Vhalla’s voice faded away as they continued racing up the tower.
“Shall we?” Taavin asked, almost thoughtfully.
“Fate won’t let us linger much longer. Durroe watt radia.”
Taavin echoed her and they sprinted behind the prince and the Windwalker. Vi and Taavin passed the Minister’s office in time to see the lone uppermost door in the Tower closing.
“I gave him that key,” Vi whispered.
“What?”
“Years ago… that was the room I was in when I first came to the Tower. Aldrik was just a boy. The night I left, I gave him the key.”
Taavin was silent for a long moment. Then, he whispered with fragile optimism, “Perhaps this is all how it was meant to be. Perhaps this really is the time we will succeed.”
“Let’s hope.”
Aldrik stepped out into the hall once more and began to stride down and away. Vi heard the click of the lock engage behind him. He was trying to protect Vhalla from his father? Had she overheard their conversation correctly?
“Let’s get a head start. They’ll go to the Caverns tonight. I know they will.”
They left the palace and rode out of the city. Vi set their course, heading down the Great Imperial Way, not taking the expected shortcut to the Caverns.
“It had to snow,” Vi grumbled. She doubted kot sorre would work in snow as well as it had in the sands of the Waste. She imagined strange-looking snow banks at the ends of ditches where her glyphs pushed through the powder.
“I suspected that’s why you were swinging wide.”