Failed Future (Air Awakens: Vortex Chronicles Book 3)

by Elise Kova

  Fire around her. Fire within her. Fire within her father.

  Call it forth, she silently pleaded. Sweat dotted her brow. Adela’s power would be stunning if it weren’t so stubborn.

  All at once, the ice shattered, dissipating into steam before it could even hit the ground as water. Taavin’s glyph vanished, but Vi’s and Aldrik’s hands were still engulfed in flame. Her father shifted his grip, taking her hands in his. Flames danced up their forearms, illuminating the grimy jail cell in bright yellows.

  They slowly stood, the fire remaining on her father even after their hands dropped.

  “Are you ready?” Vi asked him.

  “To get out of here? More than ever.”

  She nodded at her father and turned, starting for the exit. Taavin fell into step beside her, his long strides almost putting him out in front. Aldrik took a step and stumbled. The sound of his body hitting the open bars of the jail cell rang in Vi’s ears.

  “Father!” She hurried back over to him. “What is it?”

  “He’s weak.” Taavin assessed the obvious.

  “I can’t say they were the most mindful about how much, or what, they fed me,” he said grimly. Aldrik’s eyes, full of sorrowful dread, swung to her. “I’m sorry, daughter… after you came all this way…”

  Don’t consign yourself to die! She wanted to scream at him. Not after all she’d gone through. Not when the pieces of her family were finally all within reach. He was like a firefly: brilliant, blazing, and fading all too soon.

  “You will not apologize to me,” she said firmly. “You will move.” Vi looked back to Taavin, a plan quickly forming in her head. “Taavin, I need you.”

  “Anything,” he said hastily. Perhaps a little too hastily, judging from the sideways look her father gave her.

  “Put my Father’s arm around your shoulders. Support him. Get him to the boat.”

  “Vi—” She wasn’t sure which one of them said her name first in that disapproving tone. But Vi wasn’t about to let either finish.

  “One hand, manage halleth—heal anything you can on him before moving, then sustain maph on the same hand to stint his pain so he can push through.” Vi knew pain was only a small factor. Exhaustion and malnutrition were the bigger ones. But she could only do so much. “With your other hand, durroe watt. Only focus on those two. Conceal yourselves and get out of the city. Don’t do sallvas.”

  “Why not sallvas?” Taavin asked slowly, horror already creeping into his voice. He knew what she was planning. He knew it from his sad eyes to the slight tremor in his words.

  “I’ll be making enough of a commotion that it won’t be needed.”

  “You can’t do this.” He took a step toward her. Vi held out her hand, slowly walking past him with a straight arm barring him from coming too close, as though he was some wild animal.

  “I can, and I will. Because you both need to get out of here alive and you and I both know you’re no fighter.”

  “Vi, these pirates are deadly and well trained,” her father cautioned.

  “So am I.” He’d seen what she’d done to the elfin’ra, hadn’t he? “Wait a moment, begin healing, then move. I’ll only need a minute to bring about destruction.”

  A sinister grin found its way onto her lips and Vi turned before either of them could notice. They didn’t need to see her like this. She barely wanted to see herself like this, and some part of her curled up in the far back of Vi’s consciousness, remaining oblivious to the horrors she was about to unleash.

  She’d entered the isle unsure. She’d been taken over by sympathies for the people here. But Taavin was right: these people were murderers. It took seeing the brutality of the elfin’ra and the state of her father to remind her of that.

  Vi’s hands balled into fists at her sides.

  She wouldn’t forget it again.

  Banging echoed to her through the cave, dull and distant. Vi pushed her feet harder against the ground, picking up speed. With a wave of her hand and an utterance, the opening to the cave was blown wide open with an explosion of splinters. The chair she’d propped against the front door rattled with another loud bang.

  Vi imagined the men on the other side, slowly rearing back. Perhaps they had a battering ram. Perhaps they were just putting their shoulder into it.

  She hoped for the latter as she shouted, “Juth calt!”

  The whole front of the building exploded outward. Vi leapt through it, over the bodies that had been sent tumbling by the shockwave of her magic. Her feet hit the wooden walkway bordering the city’s canals.

  Vi pinwheeled her arms, preventing herself from tumbling in. She took a step and a small leap onto a nearby bridge and started running. She had no headway and no purpose other than to burn it all.

  She was a blaze of fire through the dark night. Her flames licked through the permafrost of the buildings and ignited tinder as they had on the Stormfrost. But unlike the Stormfrost, Vi was at her best—she’d recovered, she’d been trained, and she’d learned how to channel the darkness within her.

  A man lunged from an alleyway with a curved sword. Vi took a step back. Magic flew from her lips and hands—a shield to block, a blade of her own to plunge into the soft spot of his throat. She was moving forward again before the body even hit the ground.

  Where was Adela? Adela must be here. She’d been expecting them—preparing for them. Where would she hide?

  Sliding to a stop across snow and ice alike, Vi sent out a wave of fire, giving herself a moment’s reprieve. She pulled one of the earrings she’d taken from Fallor’s crew from her pocket and said, “Narro hath.”

  The glyph appeared above the earring and the sensation of a communication channel being opened pulsed through her.

  “Come and face me,” Vi demanded and dropped the earring, letting go of the magic.

  Her challenge issued, Vi continued through the city, zig-zagging as arrows were fired from rooftops and stoking more flames. She started heading away from the port, setting buildings and boats aflame left and right, then dashed across the bridges that spanned one of the canals and looped back. Pirates came at her from all directions, but none could manage her flames. They were all too disorganized, too startled, or too under-trained.

  Without warning, a crack of ice snapped across the ground and a large spear jolted upward in an attempt to impale her.

  Vi spun away at the last second, flame at the ready, turning to face the pirate queen.

  Neither of them said anything. For a brief moment, they were the only two people in the world. But pirates filed in around Adela, emerging like rats from every alley and doorway.

  “You finally show yourself,” Vi called over. She smothered the flames around her fingers and readied her next attack. If the woman was smart—and Vi knew she was—half of the men surrounding her were Lightspinners ready to cancel her magic. All it would take was one good juth calt.

  “Give it up, girl.”

  Vi would grant Adela this—even in the moment she should feel most panicked, most worried about defeat as her pirate city burned around her, she remained calm and composed. The command was said as though Vi was nothing more than a child who had wandered too far from home and needed to be scolded.

  “I may have lost your father, but I will not lose you.”

  “Let me go, and I may let you live,” Vi threatened.

  “How long have we been doing this?”

  What?

  “We’re alike… aren’t we? It’s how you got this far. It’s how you destroyed my ice around the crown decades ago. You have their blood, too, don’t you? Was it your mother or your father who was elfin? Who are your real parents?”

  Vi took a small step backward, feigning shock; really, it was an excuse to look around and get her bearings. Let Adela yammer on about parentage in an effort to distract her—meanwhile, Vi sighted the cave she and Taavin had entered from. The snow leading to it was disturbed, but Vi couldn’t be certain if it was their footsteps from earlier,
or if those were fresh tracks from Taavin and her Father.

  “Let’s end this, finally. Just you and I, girl.” Adela held out her icy hand. The fingers elongated, combining into a single column, and crashed into the ground. It was as if the pirate queen was merging with the isle itself. “The elfin’ra can kiss their Dark God’s arse. This will be the night when one of us dies.”

  Vi was torn.

  She knew she should run for it. She should make her way to the cave tunnels by all means necessary. This didn’t matter.

  Her vengeance didn’t matter.

  “Mysst larrk,” Vi uttered darkly, her eyes on Adela. The satisfying weight of a sword filled her hand. She sprinted into battle, bringing the sword across her body. Adela shifted slightly, magic pulsing with the movement.

  “Juth mariy.” Vi made a flick of her wrist with her right hand, stopping the shift in power. She danced over cracking ice, her feet remembering every step Sehra’s warriors had trained into her, every movement Jayme refined, each new step Arwin had drilled into her. Vi moved with the strength of each of them and with something none of them could give her—a power that had been bolstered by their teaching but was entirely her own.

  Adela narrowed her eyes. There was another shift in the magic, but this time it seemed to split into several parts—none of which Vi could focus her sole attention on. The canal on the next street over came alive, a tidal wave of ice shards roaring over Vi.

  She didn’t have time for a word, so she swept her hand overhead, incinerating the deadly hail before it could reach her. Her left foot slipped out. Vi spun on her right, bringing the sword to Adela’s shoulder.

  The woman ripped her hand from its column of ice, fingers reforming at her magical command. The limb stopped her blade before it could strike true. Ice chipped off, but Adela was otherwise unharmed.

  Vi leaned forward, closing what little gap remained between them. She had no reason to think this would work… and yet…

  “Narro vah’deh,” Vi echoed the words of the elfin’ra from earlier, whispering them as a lover would to Adela. She remembered every syllable with perfect, deadly clarity.

  There was something about this twisted magic that she didn’t need to understand the way she did Lightspinning glyphs. It was an abomination—an adaptation of Yargen’s words gone wrong. It tapped into the most ruthless, brutal nature that hid in the corners of her humanity.

  This magic thrived on hate—not logic or skill.

  Adela’s face glazed over. Her hands went limp. Vi saw the world both through her eyes and the eyes of the pirate queen simultaneously. Everything was doubled and vastly too large as Vi occupied the mind of her adversary.

  It was a spell to control the mind of another, Vi realized quickly. This explained the world as she’d seen it earlier, when she had been under the same command. It also explained the screaming voice in the back of her mind that sounded identical to Adela, demanding freedom.

  Vi pushed herself and the magic. Die, die, die, a voice in the back of her mind screamed. With Adela under her control, she could make the woman do anything. Die, die, die! The voice grew louder, and all too late Vi realized that it had not been the voice of Adela, but the same voice she’d heard at the first tear—Raspian.

  There was a thunderous crack in her chest.

  The whole world exploded with bright yellow, red, and blue light. Tendrils of red lightning shot out from Vi, exploding against the buildings around her and Adela. Vi was thrown backward, hit a wall hard, and slumped on the ground.

  Everything the magic touched seemed to wriggle and thrash, like the tears in the Twilight Forest. Raspian’s magic was breaking down the buildings, turning them to dust before her eyes. Turning the minds of the men it struck to madness.

  Vi blinked, trying to bring her mind back into focus. Adela was hunched over on the ground, turning over the contents of her stomach. One of her men, still in possession of his right mind, levied a crossbow directly at Vi.

  Move. She had to move. Vi pushed against the ground, struggling to regain her feet, to somehow dodge the incoming shot. Her whole body was a shuddering mess.

  The man’s finger squeezed the trigger and in the same moment one of the other pirates crashed into him. The bolt dug into the wood at the side of Vi’s head, but she hardly flinched. She watched in horror as the now white-eyed pirate mounted the man who had once been his ally and began to tear him apart with hands and teeth, like a wild animal.

  She’d be sick if she looked on any longer.

  Move, she commanded herself again. Everything hurt. Red magic crackled over her skin, splitting it, only to have it heal with the blue and yellow tendrils of flame that coated her.

  Somehow, Vi found her feet.

  “G-Get her!” Adela struggled with words, pointing in her direction. But there wasn’t anyone able to heed her command.

  Vi looked over her shoulder and, for a brief second, debated going back to finish the job. This was her chance to kill the pirate queen…

  Ultimately, she didn’t take it.

  Getting to her father would be sweeter than any revenge, and the longer she lingered here, the less likely it became that she’d make it back to him. She’d already made the mistake of lingering once.

  Vi tried to move faster. Her head was splitting and body aching. Flames still licked over her body, dancing with red lightning. Every time she blinked, there was a red and violent edge to her sight.

  A little longer. She was so close now. The darkness of the cave coated her and Vi paused, several steps inside. The mere idea of her magic was like torture, and yet…

  “Juth calt.” Vi pointed up at the entrance to the cave. The earth groaned and split, rumbling as the supports for its frozen mouth caved in. Vi didn’t wait to watch the first rocks collapse with the power of her glyph. Instead, she turned and sprinted through the tunnels on the last bit of adrenaline she had.

  Flames birthed with her every footstep, cutting through the darkness and smoldering against the wet, frozen rock. She heard crashes behind her. The island itself was trying to bury her now, chasing her through its frigid bowels. It wanted to punish her for the magic she’d unleashed on it.

  Magic she still didn’t fully understand and should’ve never touched.

  Vi emerged on the other side just as the cave-in caught up behind her. There’d be no pirates getting through there and Arwin would figure out that she needed to fly around… If Arwin survived at all. Vi swallowed hard.

  “Vi!” Taavin’s voice cut through her thoughts.

  Her attention jolted to the ship still tied to the thick ice surrounding the island.

  “Vi!” Her father echoed, hands cupped around his mouth. “We’re here!”

  They’d made it.

  She began sprinting once more. She slipped, falling hard, landing with a cry, but pushed herself upward, ignoring the red that smeared the blue ice from where her shirt ripped at her elbow.

  Get to the boat. Get away. Get to the boat. Get away.

  The mantra was on repeat in her mind. Vi leapt to the rope that dangled down the side of the vessel. With the last of her strength, she pulled herself upward. A strong hand closed around her belt, hauling her over the deck railing.

  “Juth calt,” Vi said with a glance at the rope tying down the vessel. It snapped in two. Between heaving breaths, she panted out a soft, “Go.”

  “Arwin?” Taavin asked, though he was already stepping away and heading for the ropes connected to the sales.

  “She’ll make it back,” Vi murmured, blinking up at the sky above her. She’d never seen a sky so violent. Red lightning crackled overhead like the tentacles of a writhing beast, ready to escape. Dull light, the color of dried blood, seeped over the horizon, staining the sea, staining the sky.

  Her father may be saved, but there was still much for her to do. Yet for now… Vi twisted, looking at the man who sat at her side.

  Her father was saved.

  “Father…” Vi lifted a hand. It f
elt heavier than lead.

  “Daughter.” Aldrik’s fingers clasped hers. Neither had a strong grip. Adela had stolen both of their strength. “You did well.”

  Vi pressed her eyes closed, only just now feeling the wetness on her cheeks. Things were only beginning. He didn’t understand what still awaited them.

  “You did well,” her father repeated softly.

  Even though she knew all that lay before them, three words had never sounded so beautiful.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “May I?” Taavin asked, kneeling down on the other side of Vi. He held out his hands, his intent to heal her obvious. Vi gave a small nod.

  But no magic flowed, and no words were said. Taavin looked on in horror.

  “What is it?” Vi rasped.

  “What happened?” Taavin whispered, reaching for her watch. As his hand drew near it, a spark of red lightning streaked from watch to finger and he pulled away quickly.

  “What—” Vi struggled to prop herself up, looking down at her chest. The watch had cracked, half the cover had vanished—a molten line still smoldering in the metal. The glass that had protected the face was shattered and the face itself had been charred completely black. “I… I don’t know.” She looked up to Taavin, frantic. “What does it mean?”

  “I have less of an idea than you. What happened out there?”

  Vi was about to answer when the cry of a bird overhead stopped her.

  Hovering on gusts and gales sweeping over the sea was a bird with a crooked wing. It coasted low before a bloodied Arwin tumbled onto the deck with a pulse of magic. Her eyes were dazed and unfocused, blinking slowly.

  “They did not want me to break down the shift,” she groaned, nursing her arm. Vi noticed her weapon was nowhere to be seen. “Yet, somehow, you look worse than me.”

  “Thanks.” Vi fought to sit.

  Taavin looked between her and Arwin. His eyes fell to the watch and that seemed to make up his mind. He quickly walked over to Arwin and hovered near the woman, looking down at her. “Want me to heal you?”

  “Don’t touch me, Voice,” Arwin droned. The bite was gone from her words. Their hatred for each other had lost its venom, becoming more residual habit than impassioned feeling.