by Elise Kova
“Right, this way.” Vi started forward, gripping the straps of her satchel. It was going to be a miracle if they didn’t all end up dead. “Listen, Arwin… I want you to know how grateful I am for you coming.”
“I have my own agenda.”
“Yes, well… I still appreciate it.” Vi continued. “And I hope that, on this journey, we can trust each other.”
Arwin snorted. “I suppose I can trust you not to get yourself killed. Barely.”
The cave came into view and Vi pointed at it. “That’s where my things are. Wait here?”
“Get what you need and let’s be on our way.” Arwin folded her arms, resting against a tree, impatient.
Vi moved hastily, not wanting to sour the woman’s mood even further. Uttering every prayer and good luck wish she knew, Vi crossed to the cave, set the scythe aside, and squeezed through the opening.
“Vi.” Taavin’s voice cut through her thoughts.
“Taavin.” Vi looked over to him in the dim glow of Sarphos’s stone. They stared at each other for what felt like an hour—long enough that Arwin should’ve come investigating. After their last parting, Vi was even more painfully aware of all that was left unsaid.
“Are you alone?” Taavin’s eyes shifted over her shoulder.
“No. And it’s not Sarphos who’s with me.”
“What happened?” Taavin’s tone sobered and Vi wondered for a brief second if he’d thought she betrayed him.
“I can’t explain fully right now, there’s no time, and this introduction will be uncomfortable enough as it is. I’d rather not do it in a confined space.” Vi sighed and rested her palm on his chest. “You have to trust me, all right? Please know, no matter what, I will never seek to bring you harm. Trust me like I trust you.”
“What’re you talking about?” His heart was beating faster underneath her fingers.
“You said it yourself—the morphi are not friendly to Fallor or Adela. Turns out, they have some unfinished business with the pirate queen and one of the royal guards wants to come and settle the score.”
“What?” Taavin’s voice dropped to a panicked whisper. He spoke so fast that Vi didn’t have the chance to tell him Arwin stood far enough away that there was no way she could hear. “We can’t bring a morphi along, especially a morphi royal. First, you saw how Sarphos reacted to me. Second, if they leave their kingdom, they risk exile. Third, they risk being hunted by any Faithful we run into.”
“I know the risks. Moreover, she knows the risks.” Vi dropped her hand, fighting the urge to glare at him and failing. “And so do you. You told me yourself of your hand in creating the decrees that would lead to the Faithful hunting her.”
“And I told you not to judge me for the things I did in captivity.”
Vi bit the inside of her lower lip and focused on the present. “We don’t have a choice in this. Adela’s Isle of Frost is shrouded by the morphi shift and I’m not about to leave getting to my father up to chance and hope that one of Raspian’s tears allows us through. Getting to the Twilight Kingdom nearly killed me. That’s not a viable strategy for us.”
Taavin pressed his lips together into a thin line. Vi knew when she’d won. There was no better counter-argument. She’d run through every possibility already; having a morphi on their side was their best chance.
With that, she left the cave, trusting him to follow. But she didn’t look back. Instead, she focused on quickly slinging the scythe over her shoulder once more and walking toward Arwin, trying to position herself right between the two.
Vi knew the moment Taavin emerged based on the change in Arwin’s expression. It was a darkly fascinating thing to behold. She went from bored and grumpy, to horrified, to the picture of loathing in about an instant.
Spear in hand, Arwin let out a crazed cry and began sprinting toward Taavin.
Chapter Seventeen
Crouching some and digging in her heels, Vi braced herself as the woman approached, shifting to the side slightly and narrowly missing the point of her spear. She grabbed Arwin’s shoulders with both hands, knowing full well she couldn’t hold Arwin anywhere for any amount of time if she didn’t want to be held.
“I need you to listen to me.”
“Vi, you have no idea who that is.” Arwin twisted from her grasp. Bringing an arm around, she pushed Vi behind her as if Vi was in danger.
“I know who that is.” Vi gripped Arwin’s forearm and bicep, clinging to the woman, futilely trying to stop her from moving.
“What have you done to her?” she growled at Taavin. Vi watched the man’s eyes dart between her and Arwin, no doubt debating if or when he should step in. “What hold do you have over her?”
“He hasn’t done anything to me, Arwin, listen!” Vi yanked at her arm. It was as unflinching as one of the giant vines in the forests of Soricium. “He’s…” Her eyes drifted to Taavin for a long second. So much was left outstanding and unsaid between them. But now wasn’t the time. And sorting through that mess would be a lot harder if he was dead. “He’s my friend.”
“Your friend?” Arwin wrenched her arm free and stepped back, facing Vi without letting Taavin fully out of her sight. “Your friend is the Voice?”
“I can explain.” Vi held up her hands.
“You lied to me,” Arwin seethed, raising her spear. “You lying traitor. Curse you, your father, and your family.”
“I didn’t lie.” Vi worked to keep herself calm even as Arwin spit venom.
“You said you weren’t Faithful!”
“I’m not.”
“No? You’re just aligned with the worst of them all.” Arwin swung her spear in Taavin’s direction, though her eyes remained glued on Vi. When she spoke, it was with a bitter detachment that hurt more than any word. “I knew you were seeking to infiltrate and betray us from the first moment I laid eyes on you and I was right.”
Vi allowed her blood to run cold. She knew the pain on Arwin’s face all too well. It was the look of someone you trusted showing their hand and coming up with cards you never dreamed they’d be holding.
“If I had wanted to harm the Twilight Kingdom, I could’ve,” Vi said calmly. “If I had wanted to lead a legion of Faithful though the tears in the shift, I could’ve.” Vi actually doubted that. It had been the watch that had protected her through the tear. But Arwin didn’t need to know that. “If Taavin had wanted to move against your people, he would’ve.”
“The Faithful are devious. They don’t function based on logic or reason. They act on hate alone.”
“You don’t have to like us,” Vi spoke through Arwin’s justified rage. “None of us are pretending to be friends. Our only link is that we’re all working toward the same thing.”
“I will never be aligned with a Faithful, and especially not the Voice.”
“You already are. I need him to teach me how to bring down Raspian, but I need you to get to my father. And you need both of us to settle your old score if you ever want to return home.” They didn’t have to like each other. They had to work together. That would be good enough for Vi and it should be good enough for Arwin. If they all knew where they stood from this moment forward, there would be no more betrayal, because there wouldn’t be any real trust between them. They would trust in their shared goals, and nothing more.
“I don’t need you,” Arwin seethed. She swung her weapon and pointed the blade right at the soft spot of Vi’s throat. “My father may have told me not to come back until I settled my outstanding score, but I think he’d make an exception for bringing him the body of the Voice and his accomplice.”
“Harm her and you’ll never see the Twilight Kingdom again,” Taavin cautioned dangerously. “Harm her and I will ensure every sword and sorcerer at my disposal will rally against you.”
“You will not leave here alive.”
“Do not underestimate me.” Taavin raised his hands. Vi could feel the power gathering under his palms, ready to be brought to life with a word. Power Sarphos ha
d nursed back into him at Vi’s command.
One wrong word, and the whole situation would explode into violence and death.
“Listen, both of you, just listen!” Vi pleaded, trying not to move too much. She would’ve suspected talking would be much harder with a spear through her throat. “We all want the same thing! This doesn’t have to be personal.”
“You made it personal,” Arwin growled. “And I will never want the same thing as a Faithful.”
“You do though,” Taavin interjected before Vi could. “And I could give it to you.”
“What’re you talking about?” Arwin’s eyes narrowed at him, but she had yet to attack, which Vi took as a victory.
“What do you want more than anything else?” Taavin asked. “You want to see Ulvarth dead, no? You want an end to the Faithful as conquerors? I can deliver that opportunity to you.”
Vi watched Arwin shift her white-knuckled grip on the weapon. She was holding the spear so hard that it squeaked as her calloused hands rubbed against the polished wood. The woman seemed suspended in place by her own tension.
“How?” Arwin demanded finally.
“I will give you access to Ulvarth. I know where he lives and works. I know the people who attend him. And I know the back doors that connect them all.”
“You lie. No such back doors exist into the Archives of Yargen. The place is a fortress.”
Vi had never thought of a library as a fortress. Her image of the Archives, and just where Taavin had spent the majority of his life, were shifting faster than a morphi.
“The Archives of Yargen are old. They’ve been added to by countless Faithful over the years, each one more neurotic than the last. Each trying to find a new way to protect themselves, escape if needed, or slit the throats of their enemies as they lay sleeping.”
“Exactly—slit the throats of their enemies as they sleep. The Faithful are underhanded, so why should I believe you?”
“Because I am proof that such passages exist. It’s through them that I finally staged my escape.”
“Why would you have to escape?” Arwin seemed genuinely confused. “Why not just command your way out?”
“Because he’s been their prisoner for years, and hates the Faithful just as much as you do.” Vi dared to speak.
“Silence, you,” Arwin growled.
“I want nothing more than to see Ulvarth dead and the Faithful returned to a quiet order built around Yargen—not blood-lust or power.” Taavin stole Arwin’s attention again with the declaration.
She laughed, bitter and icy. “You’re a dog that would bite your master?”
“Let’s say my master didn’t spare me the rod,” Taavin countered with a dangerous edge to his voice. “You don’t get to beat this dog and expect loyalty.”
“Betrayers, the whole lot of you,” Arwin whispered. But she was also clearly weighing her options. Vi did the same, hoping they came to an identical conclusion.
Arwin could try to kill her and Taavin here and now—maybe she’d be successful, but she’d likely die in the process.
Or she could help them settle not only the score with Adela for the sake of her family, but slay Ulvarth as well, for the sake of her people. If she could muster enough faith in Taavin’s deal, she had far more to gain. In fact, Arwin would get everything she’d ever wanted. Except there was a loose end in Taavin’s proposal—
“And what about you?” Arwin asked, gaze intent on Taavin. “I could slay Ulvarth and you could find another just as ruthless to carry out your decrees.”
“They are not my decrees.”
“You are lying to save your skin!”
“He’s not!” Vi interjected.
“I said silence!” Arwin pressed the spear farther forward. Its razor-sharp edge biting into Vi’s throat was far more persuasive than words.
“Hurt her and die.”
Arwin’s eyes swung back to Taavin and the expression on her face almost had Vi wondering if she’d heard something Vi had not. A devious, deadly smile crept across her lips. “What does she matter to you?”
“Everything.” There was no hesitation. No holding back. “She is everything.” Arwin’s grip faltered slightly; the spear sagged as surprise settled in on her.
What are we?
Vi finally had her answer. She was suddenly too hot and too cold at the same time, keenly aware of the pain at her throat yet numb and tingling all over.
Everything.
She loved him. And he loved her… despite both of them knowing better. Despite neither being brave enough to say it in such plain terms. Those facts made no difference in the end. They had fallen in love despite themselves. They just had yet to be brave enough to say it aloud.
Taavin continued on as if the very world wasn’t shifting beneath Vi’s feet. Perhaps he was oblivious to it. More likely, his ground had shifted long ago. So had hers. She was only fully realizing it.
“Help us, help her get her father, do whatever you need to do to Adella, and then I will deliver you Ulvarth. And should his head not satisfy your need for justice—if I do not keep my word and do right by you and your people—then at that time, you may have me.”
No! Everything in Vi screamed at once. She didn’t care if it was justified, or righteous, for Arwin to seek Taavin’s life. She didn’t care if it was Taavin’s right to make this deal. She didn’t want to see him harmed. That was the sole thought in her mind.
Yet thanks to the blade at her throat keeping every breath shallow, nothing escaped her lips.
“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”
“You’ll have to trust me.”
Arwin snorted. “Trusting a Faithful? That never worked out well for anyone. Just look at the spot I’m in now.” Her eyes swung back to Vi. “Her.”
“What?” Taavin asked and Vi let out something of a whisper to the same effect.
“If I so much as think for a moment that you will go back on your word—if I even suspect it—I’ll kill her on the spot.”
“That’s too high a bar. You will be suspicious of my breathing.”
“Then you should make an effort to breathe less,” Arwin snapped at him. “It’d do wonders for my mood, at least.”
Vi searched the woman’s face for any sign of warmth or familiarity, but there was none. This was the same woman who had accused her of being Faithful in the throne room. No, this was worse. This was a woman who had proof of the careful tapestry Vi had been weaving around her.
Vi didn’t have the right to hope for anything from Arwin. This was business, her mind insisted. It always had been. Friendship was a luxury she could no longer afford.
“Do we have a deal?” Arwin asked neither of them in particular.
“I said—”
“You have a deal,” Vi interrupted before Taavin could say something well-intended but foolish. “Help me get my father. Taavin will give you Ulvarth. And if at any point, you think we mean to harm you or the morphi, or that we will go back on our words… You have my life.”
Chapter Eighteen
The next hour was uncomfortable, to say the least.
Vi looked to Taavin. Taavin glared at Arwin. Arwin watched her. None of them said anything. It was silence the entire walk through the forest. An uncomfortable, deafening silence of Vi’s own making.
By the end of the day, Vi nearly wanted to scream just so she’d hear something in the too-still woods.
“We should make camp here.” Arwin came to a stop just when the forest’s edge was in sight. Through the trees, Vi could see a clear dividing line—not unlike where the jungles of Shaldan ended at the Waste. She wondered if this, too, was a scar left on the earth by the ravages of man’s squabbles. “Get one more night of sleep somewhere that the only enemies we have to worry about are each other.”
“We’re not your enemy,” Vi said tiredly.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Suit yourself.” Vi held up her hands as Arwin took a few steps backward.
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“Where are you going?” Taavin asked cautiously.
“I’m going to find dinner for myself, and perch somewhere you two don’t know of so you can’t slit my throat while I sleep.” Arwin pulled her mass of golden hair back with a line of cord. “But don’t think I won’t be watching you.”
“How do we know you won’t go back to the Twilight Kingdom and return with an army?”
“I guess you’ll just have to… how did you put it? Trust me,” she said with a mocking smile.
The air around Arwin pulsed. Magic rippled in several equidistant rings, distorting the forest around her as though it were the surface of water. Arwin took a small step, then jumped into the air, slipping between the rings. Vi saw the outline of a bird taking her shape, identical to the dark fowl she’d seen when she’d first emerged from the cave nearly two weeks ago.
Before Arwin’s feet could touch the ground again, she was gone, and there was just the flap of dark wings as the animal soared away. Vi and Taavin watched her leave, until it was impossible to see her outline from the deepening darkness between the trees.
“We should consider leaving,” he murmured. “She could go back and—”
“She won’t go back.” Vi sighed softly, removing her scythe and leaning it against a tree. “She’s exiled if she doesn’t finish her mission.”
“If the king can make those rules, he can break them,” Taavin cautioned.
“I know. But the king who breaks his own rules is a ruler soon to lose his crown.”
“Spoken like a true princess.”
“Perhaps because I am one.” Vi removed her satchel next, setting it down heavily. “Besides, we’ve made her a good offer. She stands to gain a lot more than lose.”
“What’s been happening this past week?” Taavin asked cautiously, looking from the weapon she’d been carrying to the satchel Vi was rummaging through. “I’ve had precious little by way of information.”