Failed Future (Air Awakens: Vortex Chronicles Book 3)

by Elise Kova

  “Get up or—” The pirate never had a chance to finish his sentence.

  “Juth calt,” Vi snarled, going right for the heart.

  Charlie seized, wide-eyed. He crumpled on the spot, just as Jayme had, blood dripping from his lips. She had vowed to Fallor that she would see Adela’s brood suffer. But Vi found herself beyond caring. There wasn’t time to exercise the dark art of vengeance.

  The world was ending and all that truly mattered were results.

  The screech of a bird drew her attention. A nightwisp—half the size of the eagle—shot through the sky like a black arrow. Vi watched as it twisted mid-air, wicked sharp talons leading the charge. Before the eagle could fall from the sky, the nightwisp had dug its claws into it, using momentum to pin the eagle against the cliff wall.

  Vi turned away from Charlie’s body, keeping herself crouched and praying the men on the boat hadn’t seen their comrade fall. Down the path was Taavin, shifting his stance and readying more words.

  “Taavin,” Vi called as loud as she dared—hoping the wind and crash of waves masked whatever of her voice would carry. Taavin looked up to her. “They have imprinted tokens to talk to Adela. If the ship sees a struggle, they’ll have my father murdered!”

  His eyes widened, no doubt putting together all Vi had in an instant: they had to move fast and with certainty.

  With a pulse of magic, Arwin replaced the bird, landing on the path and sliding back slightly. The dazed eagle shook its head, slowly regaining its footing. When its eyes focused, they were trained on the spear Arwin was pointing at its neck.

  “Loft dorh hoolo.” Vi thrust her hand at Fallor right as he was about to take flight. Her glyph surrounded him, stalling him in place.

  Even with hoolo, she could feel him wriggling and writhing against her magic. He struggled to break free of her tethers and Vi realized she didn’t know how long she could hold him. Sweat beaded on her brow.

  “You’re not leaving.” Arwin ruthlessly stabbed her spear through the bird’s wing. “Free him of your magic.”

  Vi did as Arwin bid. This was her kill, her moment of revenge. They didn’t have much time, but they had time enough for this.

  Fallor rippled in and out of existence. When he reappeared, his clothes were torn, blood pouring from deep slashes in his chest that Arwin’s talons had made. His arm was pinned to the path, blood pooling around Arwin’s spear.

  “Arwie, let’s not—”

  “Don’t,” she snarled. Vi would’ve snarled too if a man like Fallor had tried to give her a nickname like Arwie. “If you have any scrap of honor, any trace of the man I loved, you will stay in place and let me gut you from naval to nose.”

  “Because you love me, don’t gut me,” he pleaded hastily, holding up a hand. “I-I never wanted to hurt you.”

  Arwin slowly tilted her head to the side as Fallor spoke. Vi couldn’t see her expression, but she could see Taavin’s reaction to it. And that was enough for Vi to know it was every bit as venomous as her tone.

  “You had a poor way of showing it.”

  “Let me fix it. I can fix this,” Fallor continued hastily. “Who would you rather leave here with—me, or the Voice and a foreigner? Adela will pay anything for them. She’ll be indebted to the Twilight Kingdom. She’s a worthy ally to have on your side against the Faithful. With her ships, you could even stand up against the Swords’ armada. Start with the seas, then attack Risen.”

  Arwin went very still.

  “Arwin…” Taavin started cautiously. There must have been something on her face, if only for a moment, that made him uncertain. But his expression changed in the next instant, as the woman herself no doubt swung on a pendulum of emotions.

  Vi watched as Arwin ripped the spear from Fallor’s arm and, in one deft motion, gouged his throat with the blade. The man fell back, took one last gasping, gurgling breath, and died. Vi didn’t feel one drop of pity or remorse. But right now, it didn’t matter what she felt.

  It mattered what Arwin did.

  “Don’t think this means I like either of you now,” Arwin said softly. “It’s not that I chose you.”

  “You had a job to do.” Vi finished the thought.

  Arwin slowly turned and gave a nod. That was enough for Vi to count on her for what needed to come next.

  “The two left on the ship. If they suspect something is amiss, they’ll contact Adela and she’ll kill my father.” Vi looked to Taavin. “You’ll wear Charlie’s clothes and we’ll ride out on the rowboat. Arwin, you fly in from behind. We strike them both at once, but only when we’re certain we can take them out cleanly. If one survives for even a second, it could be enough time to relay a message.”

  A jump off the cliff, followed by a pulse of magic, and a bird rising on the updraft was all the affirmation Vi was going to get from Arwin. But she didn’t need more. Time was of the essence now.

  Still, she found herself staring at Fallor for one last, long moment. He was dead. She imprinted his bloody corpse on her memory. He was dead, and he couldn’t come for her again.

  Vi turned away, crawled toward Charlie’s body, and began to tug at his clothes. “Taavin, help me, he’s heavy.”

  The man appeared across from her, wordlessly helping lift the dead weight to yank off Charlie’s long tunic.

  “How did you kill him?” Taavin asked warily.

  “Juth calt—I shattered his heart.”

  “You what?” he whispered.

  “I shattered his heart, maybe his lungs, too.”

  “I’ve never heard of calt used that way,” Taavin said warily.

  “Well, now you have.” Vi held out the shirt. While she waited for Taavin to take it, she ripped off Charlie’s earring with her other hand and pocketed it. “I’ve had a long road to get here, and I’ve had to improvise along the way. Now, wear this—the sun is getting low and I don’t want to test their patience.”

  Taavin yanked off his shirt. It was the first time she’d seen him in such a state of undress. The scar on his face extended down past his collarbone. There were other scars, too. Smaller, fainter, curving and intersecting… almost as if someone had taken a knife and lazily drawn lines across his body time and again until their bloody art left a permanent mark.

  No doubt from Ulvarth, she thought darkly

  He finished tugging the tunic overhead, bringing her back to the present.

  “Good thing pirates are embroiled in shady business.” Vi lifted the hood of the tunic. “Of course they’d have sewn a hood to everything.”

  “Vi, you saw—”

  “Later.” Vi gave his hand a squeeze, knowing where his mind was. She didn’t have to know the stories behind those markings to know that it was likely something very few had seen, and that he’d want to keep them hidden. “When we’re on our new boat.”

  Taavin gave a small nod as he stood. Vi did as well, taking a step in front of him. She kept her head down, starting on the switchbacks with Taavin close behind.

  “Remember, I’m your prisoner. Push on my back a little, make it a good show.”

  Taavin did, but the shove was so weak Vi had to intentionally put a stumble into her step. She fought the smallest of smiles. Even acting, he didn’t want to harm or demean her.

  Sure enough, there was a rowboat moored on the beach. Just off the shore was a single vessel—narrow and fast looking with one main sail and a secondary. Perfectly hidden from view of the town.

  Two silhouettes were drawn against the setting sun, standing at the railing. Vi held up a hand, blinking into the sunlight as they trudged through the sand toward the small skiff. She didn’t see Arwin anywhere.

  “Do you see her?” Taavin asked, pushing on the rowboat. He strained against the sand—clearly not a trained deckhand. Vi hoped Fallor’s other crew would assume Charlie drunk.

  “No,” Vi murmured. She wanted to help him, but she doubted Charlie would’ve asked for help, so she just stood there, waiting and watching the other two pirates aboard the b
oat.

  “What if she left?”

  “She wouldn’t. She still has to disable the shift on the Isle of Frost.” Vi hoped to the Mother above that remained true.

  The skiff was in the water and Vi boarded first, Taavin behind her. He took up the oars, pulling them hard through the water and fighting against the waves crashing along the beach. Vi looked at the surf splashing up against the sides, remembering the last time she had been in a rowboat like this.

  Then, she had been a prisoner. Now, she held the upper hand.

  “When we get close enough that you can be sure to hit your mark… use juth calt,” Vi said under her breath. Taavin looked up at her, panting. “I’ll take the woman, you take the man.”

  “I don’t think I can…” Taavin nearly stopped rowing, continuing in an instant. “I’ve never been trained to use it in that way. What if I explode their whole body?”

  “Then there’s less for someone to find when the corpse washes ashore.” Vi stared at him. In that moment, it was painfully clear that he was sitting where she had been months ago. He had never killed—at least not with his own hands—and had never considered doing so. Vi swallowed hard, looking over her shoulder. “Just freeze one, I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “Charlie,” the woman cupped her hands to her lips and yelled. “Have you seen an ice moon?”

  It was clearly some kind of code—a code neither of them knew the answer to. “Get a little closer,” Vi whispered, glancing over her shoulder. Taavin kept rowing.

  “Charlie,” the man bellowed, “have you—” At that moment, he was cut short by a sudden jolt of magic. Vi heard him make a gurgling groan before he landed heavy on the deck with a dull thud.

  “Narro h—” the woman began.

  “Loft dorh,” Taavin said, eyes focused on the woman.

  Vi turned in the rowboat, careful not to knock it over or rock it so much that Taavin lost his focus. Arwin was on deck pulling her spear from the dying man. Before she could thrust it through the woman, Vi uttered, “Juth calt.”

  With that, Taavin’s magic was broken, and the woman fell limply to the deck. Arwin stood at the railing, looking down at them, regarding them both warily. Vi locked eyes with her, as if in warning.

  As if to say, Yes, beyond the Twilight Forest we are as deadly as you feared.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Throw down the lines,” Vi called up to Arwin as they positioned the rowboat under two arm-like pulleys at the stern. “I’ll tie them off to the boat and you can hoist.”

  Arwin walked over to the low deck rail, looking down at them. She wore a stony expression that guarded her innermost thoughts. Instinct would have Vi just as guarded, but she kept her face calm, relaxed. She didn’t want to risk escalating tensions in an already-tense situation.

  Without a word, Arwin threw the ropes down and Vi caught them, quickly fastening them off to either end of the dinghy. “Stay here,” she murmured to Taavin, pulling off her scythe and setting it in the boat.

  Grabbing one of the ropes, Vi hoisted herself upward with a small jump that set the dinghy to rocking. Kicking out her feet, Vi landed them on the side of the larger vessel. One hand over the other, one foot then the next, Vi walked up the side of the ship with the help of the rope.

  “What was that for?” Arwin asked.

  “Now you don’t have to pull alone.” Vi rubbed her palms on her thighs, working out the aches in her fingers.

  “That was unnecessary. I could’ve done it on my own.”

  “Or you could accept help and make it easier.” Vi moved to one of the pulleys, making sure everything was looped through correctly. Unsurprisingly, the riggings seemed to be in top shape, ready to go at a moment’s notice.

  “All right, let’s get our dead weight aboard.”

  They pulled together until the small boat was up at deck level, tied off the ropes to secure the dinghy in place, then Vi reached out a hand for Taavin. He wasn’t too proud to take it, allowing her to help him over the railing and onto the deck. Vi reached in after him, retrieving her scythe and slinging it back over her shoulders. She was finding the longer she carried it, the less she liked being without it.

  “You’re fairly confident on a boat,” he observed.

  “This is the third I’ve been on.” Vi shrugged. She had a strong suspicion that neither Arwin nor Taavin had been on a ship. Maybe Taavin. But if he had been, it wasn’t in any kind of sailing capacity.

  Vi knelt down, taking the earrings from both of the pirate’s ears. They were identical to Charlie’s, further confirming her suspicion that this was the token.

  “Are those some kind of trophy?” Arwin asked.

  “No, they’re communication tokens to Adela,” Vi pocketed them. “They could be useful… or perhaps not. Either way, I’d rather keep them than lose them to the sharks. Now, a little help please?”

  Taavin and Arwin both helped Vi push the bodies to the railing, twisting them until they slipped through the wide gaps and off the sides of the boat. Vi fetched a bucket attached to a long rope, drawing up seawater and splashing it across the deck twice to remove some of the man’s blood. There was still a long red streak on the main deck, but it was clean enough. Spending too long cleaning a pirate ship felt like an exercise in futility.

  “All right.” Vi wiped her hand across her brow, taking stock of the setting sun. It was little more than a sliver on the horizon now. Was it just her imagination, or was it setting earlier than normal? “We should set sail before anyone can find the bodies. I can imagine there’s at least a few in Toris who will be sympathetic to Fallor and Adela’s men.”

  “Or who will at least want Adela’s gratitude and bounty for turning over the people who killed them.” Taavin leaned against the railing, a few steps away from the red smears.

  “Taavin and I will give the ship a quick once-over and see the status of things. Arwin, will you fly back and gather up our supplies?” When the woman didn’t immediately respond, Vi turned to face her. She looked back at the coastline with a conflicted expression. “Ar—”

  “I heard you.” The woman leapt into the air, soaring upward and back toward the cliffs where she’d stashed their bags.

  “What’s her problem?” Taavin muttered.

  “She got what she wanted, and doesn’t know how to feel about it,” Vi answered easily, beginning a quick inspection of their new vessel.

  The ship was fairly simple, one mainmast and a foremast. The rigging she’d already used on the davits was some of the most complicated of all the ropes. There was a tiny cabin that was half in the hull and half beneath a shallow quarterdeck. A break in the smooth lines of the deck toward the bow betrayed a storage area Vi inspected immediately, confirming rations within.

  “You think she regrets killing Fallor?” Taavin followed behind her.

  “Regrets? No.” Vi shook her head. Thinking of Arwin right now felt like looking into a mirror that reflected what was inside, rather than out. Vi could recognize emotions and feelings—all the ones she didn’t want to see. “But I don’t think it’s so black and white. Fallor betrayed her, yes. But she also loved him, once. Those feelings were real to her before the discovery that they hadn’t mattered to him.”

  “This isn’t Jayme,” Taavin whispered gently. Vi slowly lowered the storage hatch and turned, looking up at him from her crouched position. “Arwin has known who Fallor was for a long time.”

  “Some emotions are as sharp as knives that don’t dull or rust with time.” Vi stood, looking out over the water and seeing the dark bird gliding on the ocean breezes. “Even if you’re right, after dreaming of his death for so long… how would it feel to actually get it? To have it be so easy?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Me neither.”

  Jayme’s death had been swift and sudden, and perhaps easier. Vi didn’t have to live with the knowledge that the woman who had wronged her was still out there breathing. The chapter was closed, and while she still car
ried the wounds of it, she could try to move forward.

  Arwin had been in stasis for years. Vi could only imagine how she must be feeling now.

  The woman in question landed lightly on the deck, a pack over her back and Vi’s bag strapped across her chest. She tossed them haphazardly into the cabin, reporting, “No problems with them.”

  “Arwin.”

  “What is it, princess?” Arwin sighed, leaning her staff against the entrance to the cabin. There was no door, merely a curtain stretched across the opening to keep out the night’s chill and salt spray. She looked at Vi warily and, for a long moment, they merely held each other’s gaze.

  Vi didn’t know what she’d intended to say. Had she wanted to tell Arwin that she understood in some way? Did she want to say it was okay to feel whatever it was she was feeling?

  “Thank you for your help.” In the end, Vi couldn’t pry. Just as she didn’t want anyone to pry about Jayme, she wouldn’t inflict that on Arwin.

  Rather than retorting back with something about having no other choice, or begrudging them both, Arwin gave a grunt in acknowledgement. That was the best Vi could hope for, and she let the matter drop.

  “Taavin, how much do you know about rigging?” It was past time for them to be on their way.

  “I grew up in the Archives of Yargen and spent most of my time making use of the fact. I may not have had a chance to apply knowledge very often, but I certainly collected it.”

  “Good, let’s give you a chance to practice, then. You and Arwin will help get the sails ready while I plan a headway.” Vi started for her satchel in the cabin, retrieving her journal and a compass. She didn’t even make it back out before they were bickering.

  “I wouldn’t untie that.”

  “You said to untie this.”

  “No, untie this one.” Taavin tapped on a rope knotted to a peg. “Not that one.”

  “Well you should be more clear.”

  “I’m being perfectly clear.”