by Elise Kova
“And keep quiet as we pass. It looks like Ruie is on duty today. At least it’s not Arwin…”
She nodded, not even daring to speak now as they continued their approach.
A woman lounged at the side of the archway, arms folded, looking board. She had bright golden hair that reminded Vi achingly of Romulin’s, though hers was cut shorter. Billowing fabrics tucked into simple boiled leather armor covered her lanky, lithe form.
“Sarphos… didn’t Arwin want to see you today?” she said dully, by way of greeting. “She’s back at the palace.”
“I realized I was low on a few supplies I’ll likely need for her.”
“Need a few things or…” Ruie pushed off from the stone column of the archway. “Are you ditching my sister to take someone special out for a late-night stroll?” She grinned wildly. “I don’t think Arwin will take too kindly to playing second-fiddle.”
“Wh-what? Stroll? You mean—no. Me?” Sarphos blubbered. Vi couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed, or worried about what this Arwin may think. Either way, she committed the name to memory.
“Someone special perhaps?” Ruie took a few steps forward. “What’s your name?”
Vi opened her mouth to answer, but Sarphos spoke too fast.
“She’s no one. J-Just an apprentice of mine.”
“I didn’t think you took apprentices. You sure it isn’t something more?”
“I don’t mind if you say something.” Vi gave a grin and a wink to Sarphos, trying to mirror Ellene’s voice and facial expressions when teasing Darrus.
“I-I—”
Ruie roared with laughter. “Oh go on, then, don’t let me keep you. She’s clearly eager.”
Vi gave a tug on his hand, taking a step forward. Let him fall into step, Vi pleaded mentally. She could almost feel the uncomfortable, nervous energy radiating off the healer who was now scarlet from the crown of his head down to his collar.
Luckily, he didn’t actually die of embarrassment, and instead kept moving.
“And good for you Sarphos!” Ruie called after them. “It’s good to see you happy after so long!”
Sarphos shot a glare over his shoulder before turning back to Vi. “I thought I said not to speak.” He had the audacity to sound bothered.
“It got us through, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, but now she’s going to tell all her sisters,” he muttered. “Oh, never mind.” Sarphos sighed. “We’re past it anyway. Now, to get through the shift—stay close.”
Vi did as she was told, and they continued to walk into the darkness.
She squeezed his hand tightly, not caring if she hurt him. Better that, than allow him to feel her tremble. The last thing Vi wanted to do was go back into this void. But Taavin waited on the other side. At least this time she had a guide.
There was a pulse of magic so faint Vi wasn’t sure if she imagined it. Vi took a deep breath and held it, remembering the thin air that came next.
“Not far, now,” Sarphos said, low and steady as another pulse thrummed against her, then another, and another, as the world wobbled back into existence from the darkness, like ripples across a pond.
They stepped out between two trees and Vi took a deep breath.
“That was much better than when I did it,” she said with relief.
“I’d imagine,” Sarphos said. “The shift transforms things from what they are, to what they can be—though that shift is a special one made only by the royal family. We call the transition ‘the between’—which is a place you don’t want to be stuck in.”
“I believe it…” Vi looked behind her, but there were just the same pale trees of the Twilight Forest standing sentry to a quiet night. All traces of the Twilight Kingdom were gone. The shift transitioned what was to what could be. She still had many questions about the magic, but they could wait. There were more pressing matters now. “Come on, this way.”
Luckily, they’d come out in a location where Vi could hear the stream. She just had to hope they hadn’t emerged too far from the cave… and that it was the same stream.
“So what brings a human to the Twilight Forest?” Saphos asked as they walked. “We don’t get too many in our borders these days.”
“I’m just passing through.” Vi had no desire for small talk. This was business. She wasn’t about to be his friend. “I would’ve been gone by now if it weren’t for my friend’s injuries.”
“Where are you going after you pass through here?”
“I have to find my father.”
Saphos fell silent. The quiet made the walk seem even longer, fraying the nerves at the ends of Vi’s patience. All she had to go by to find Taavin was the stream, so she nearly wept tears of joy when her eyes landed on something familiar. She recognized a boulder—at least she thought she did. She picked up her pace.
“Wait, why are we running?” Sarphos called.
Vi’s feet flew over the wet stones, slipping and splashing in the water. Her pant legs were damp up to her knees. But Vi paid it no mind. She was used to running in forests.
What she wasn’t used to was this overwhelming, sickening, lightheaded feeling of worry and fear and excitement all wrapped into the shape of a single man.
She came to a stop at the unassuming cave, her chest heaving. “He’s in there.” She hoped. “Let me go first… there’s not much room.”
“All right.” Sarphos leaned against the large boulders, catching his breath. “Call me when you’re ready. I’ll just be… you know… recovering from the most exercise I’ve had in months. Don’t mind me.”
It was easy to ignore his mutterings due to the racing of her thoughts. What if Taavin was gone? What if she’d somehow gone to the wrong place? What if he was…
She didn’t finish that last thought.
Vi rested her hand on the rock, took a breath, and pushed through the narrow opening. She emerged into the near darkness, immediately aware of Taavin’s form. But he made no sound or movement.
“Taavin?” Vi whispered, summoning a spark for light. “Taavin, please.” She crouched down, shaking him lightly. But for the first time, he didn’t respond. Her hand flew to his neck, seeking a pulse and breathing a sigh of relief when she found it.
“Sarphos!” Vi shouted, deafeningly loud in the small space. Taavin still didn’t wake. “Sarphos, he’s not moving!”
Sarphos pushed his way through the opening with a grunt, holding out one of the faintly glowing stones she’d seen illuminating the Twilight Kingdom like a lantern. Vi barely had time to shift herself onto the other side of Taavin to give the healer room. Her hands wrapped around Taavin’s, clutching tightly, as if he’d slip away from her for good if she let him go. Her eyes drifted up to the morphi as he finished pulling his bag through.
“This is him?” Sarphos’s expression darkened as he stared down at Taavin. His eyes narrowed in a way that Vi could describe as nothing other than pure loathing.
“Yes. You said you would help him,” Vi reminded him, the statement coming off more as a curt demand. Then she added, softly, “Please help him.” Taavin’s pulse was so weak underneath her fingers. It felt as though he could leave the mortal realm any moment.
Sarphos’s eyes dragged away from Taavin’s prone form, turning to Vi. They stared at each other for several quick breaths—Vi’s hastened in panic, Sarphos’s in what looked like rage. She braced herself, ready to outright threaten the man’s life if that’s what it took.
She was ready to burn down the whole world to save Taavin.
“You told me it was your friend… You didn’t tell me your friend was the worst, most despicable, wretched creature on this earth: the Voice.”
“Wretched?” Vi would’ve been more angry if she wasn’t so confused. “He’s not—”
“Was this your plan all along, to lure me here?” Sarphos looked over his shoulder, through the crack in the rocks. “Where is your legion of Swords?”
“I don’t want to kill you. I don’t wish you ill at all.
” Vi made every attempt to speak calmly, but Sarphos’s rising mix of panic and prejudice was making it difficult.
“Then why would you bring me before the Voice? You’re one of them, aren’t you? Faithful?”
“He’s dying!” Her shrill voice echoed in the small cave. Taavin didn’t stir. “Does this look like a man who is trying to kill you? He’s fighting for his life.”
“Good,” Sarphos said darkly. “Let him die. Better for the rest of us.”
Sarphos turned, about to squeeze through the opening. Vi stood, and with her rose a wall of flame, filling the narrow opening, licking the healer’s face and clothes. Sarphos jumped back, patting a spot on his shirt that caught fire.
“What magic is this?” His eyes darted between the singed spot and her. But Vi ignored the question. Let her powers remain mysterious. There was danger in the unknown.
“You said you were a healer—that it was your oath to heal people.”
“Oaths can be broken,” Saphos seethed.
“I know that too well,” she spat back. “Just as I also know that when negotiations break down, force may be necessary. Help him or you will not go back to the Twilight Kingdom alive. Help him or I will find the Lord of the Faithful myself and tell him that the Voice has died because of you.”
The last thing Vi ever wanted to do was align herself with Ulvarth. But Sarphos didn’t need to know that.
Sarphos continued to stare at her, narrowing his eyes slightly. “If you kill me, King Noct will demand retribution.”
“I am not of your land, and I do not fear your king. I am from across the sea—across the Shattered Islands. I am from the Dark Isle, and this man is my only ally here. Do not underestimate what I would do for the people I love.”
The glare Vi gave Sarphos hid her shock. She kept her feet on the ground, even if her head was reeling.
People I love… Love… She loved him. Her heart felt like it had just shattered into a thousand pieces only to have them all start beating in unison—a chorus that sang for Taavin alone.
Sarphos spat a curse at her in a language she didn’t understand. Vi was unflinching and unremorseful. Sarphos, however, was slowly worn down.
“If I heal him… he will harm my people.”
“He won’t.”
“If you’re from the Dark Isle as you say, you have no idea what he’s done, or what he’ll do.”
“I know him far better than you,” Vi insisted. “I’ve known him for nearly a year now. He’s not a violent man, regardless of what the Faithful do. They do it without him.”
Sarphos grumbled and shook his head, running a hand through his ruddy hair. “You really must be from the Dark Isle if you think the Faithful move in any way the Voice doesn’t command.”
“Please, Sarphos, as a healer—help him… And I give you my word he won’t harm your people.”
“She gives me her word. What’s her word good for?” Sarphos grumbled as he knelt down. Vi let him have his gripes; she’d clearly won. His eyes trailed over Taavin, taking quick stock, before flicking back up to her. “I didn’t have you pegged as someone who could be so brutal.”
Neither did she a few mere weeks ago. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
“I suppose I don’t,” Sarphos muttered, placing his hands on Taavin’s chest. Delicately, he lifted Taavin’s shirt. Vi looked on warily, making sure he didn’t get any smart ideas. But Sarphos was focused, his gaze serious. He had shifted from the morphi loyalist to just a cleric tending to a patient.
Vi held her breath, waiting for his assessment, and praying she’d done enough in time to save the man she’d fallen in love with.
Chapter Ten
Vi’s gaze lingered on Taavin’s face. He looked so frail and small—something she never thought she’d say of the man. But wounded and prone, he seemed all too fragile. Her thumb lightly caressed the back of his hand.
“It’s not too serious.” Sarphos pulled away and began to rummage through his satchel.
“This looks serious.”
“It’s becoming quite serious,” he agreed. “But the wound itself is uncomplicated—some broken bones, internal bleeding, and an infection going unchecked brought about by improper hygiene. All of those things have a clear and simple fix. He should be back to his normal, tyrannical self in no time.”
Vi pressed her fingertips to her lips, suppressing an involuntary noise of relief. Perhaps Raspian’s distortions hadn’t gotten on Taavin. She dared to hope.
“Prop him up for me.”
Vi did as Sarphos instructed, shifting to slide an arm under Taavin’s back. He was dead weight and nearly impossible to lift, but Vi managed it. Sarphos gingerly tilted his head back, parting Taavin’s lips and pouring the inky liquid she’d seen earlier down his throat.
“Will he choke?”
“No, the potion will be absorbed before it even gets to where his lungs split off.”
She turned her attention back to Taavin, continuing to hold him. Sarphos continued giving small doses of the medicine, counting quietly to himself. Just when the bottle was almost empty, Taavin’s eyes jolted open and he erupted in a fit of coughing.
Vi shifted her arm further around him, patting his back as he wheezed and gasped. Sarphos inched away. She narrowed her eyes at the healer, silently reminding him of her threat if he dared to run. But Sarphos was distracted and soon, too, was Vi.
“Vi?” Taavin whispered.
“Taavin.” His name was a breath of relief on her lips.
Vi leaned forward without a thought. Her forehead pressed against his and tightened her arm, their noses nearly touching. Her eyes dipped closed and for three blissful seconds she just listened to him breathe, feeling his frail form against her. Feeling him wonderfully alive.
“You terrified me,” she murmured, pulling away.
“That feeling is mutual. I thought you’d gone off on your own and left me.” Taavin’s hand tried to reach for her face, but only made it to her forearm.
“I wouldn’t leave you.”
Sarphos cleared his throat, reminding them both of his presence.
Taavin’s eyes peeled away from hers. He turned slowly, looking Sarphos up and down. The morphi healer returned the glare inch for inch.
“You did wander far, I see…” Taavin muttered. She could feel the tension rising between Taavin and Sarphos.
“Sarphos is a healer of the Twilight Kingdom. He’s the one who’s helping you.” Helping. Not helped. She hoped Sarphos’s care would be ongoing until Taavin was back at full strength.
“I see…” Taavin ground out, his jaw tense. Though his face relaxed when he looked back to her. “How did you find a morphi healer?”
“She claims she went through a tear in the shift. Something I have not forgotten she promised to show me,” Sarphos interjected.
“A tear? Vi, you didn’t—”
“Yes, I did. And I haven’t forgotten, I will still show it to you,” Vi interrupted and gave Sarphos a look. He’d kept his side of the bargain, she’d keep hers. She turned back to Taavin, putting his protests to rest with a short, “You were weak and getting worse. I had no other choice.”
“You have a choice now—don’t go with him.” Taavin grabbed her arm. “I don’t want you leaving my sight… I don’t want you going somewhere I can’t get to.” Taavin’s palm finally found her cheek. Vi leaned into it slightly, her eyes dipping closed. He’d been the only one to touch her this way.
“As the crown princess of the Solaris Empire, I must keep my word.” Vi gingerly trailed her fingers up his arm. “Just as you must keep the word I gave on your behalf, in exchange for Sarphos’s help—that you will not harm any morphi while you’re here.”
“I will not harm a single morphi, so long as they don’t harm you.” Taavin’s eyes swung to Sarphos.
“We do not harm unjustly.” Sarphos seemed to emphasize the word unjustly an odd amount—as if to imply Taavin would. His rage toward Taavin was something Vi still di
dn’t fully understand.
“I can protect myself,” Vi reminded Taavin.
“I know you can…” Taavin sighed, his eyes shining in the dim light of Sarphos’s glowing stone. “Please, be careful.”
“I will be.”
“We should go,” Sarphos needlessly reminded. As if Vi wasn’t aware her time was running short. “The king is expecting me.”
“I’ll come back as soon as I’m able,” Vi vowed.
“If anything happens to you I—” His throat closed and he choked on the word. Taavin shook his head, continuing down a different path. “I finally have you in reach and I’ve barely had a chance to speak to you.”
“And we keep getting pulled apart.” Vi gave him a small smile. “I know… But the road to my father, to figuring out this—” she touched the watch around her neck “—isn’t going to be a short one. We’ll have plenty of time. For now, we both need to focus on starting that road at full strength.”
“I agree with all that,” he reiterated. “But it doesn’t mean I want you to go.”
Vi searched his eyes. Had their faces always been this close? Or had they been slowly moving together?
Near. Far. Near. Far.
Back and forth they swung, a pendulum that never lost its momentum. The closer she got to him one moment, the further he felt the next. Vi closed her eyes, taking a slow breath through her nose. She leaned forward, resting her forehead lightly against his one final time.
But Vi didn’t kiss him, not with an audience. Not now, when he still looked of death and smelled of potion. She’d kiss him when they were next together—when they were both stronger. In her mind, that future joining of mouths and tongues was an unspoken promise—to whom, exactly, she wasn’t sure.
“Be careful,” she whispered, and quickly stood, giving a nod to Sarphos. The man now wore an entirely new, strange, expression. “I’m ready.”