by Kova, Elise
“You came. I knew you’d come.”
“I have to ask—”
“But you’re too late… too late. I don’t have it.”
“The key?”
“It’s with my things, in the caravan. But it is yours. Your fate is there, in the main market of the Crossroads, on the way to your throne, just as you left it, Princess Ci’Dan.” The woman’s head lobbed back and forth, her jaw slack.
“Princess Solaris.”
“You are she come again.” She was delirious in her disease. “It is yours. The place. The main market. Given for you.”
“How do I find the key?”
“Too late, too late. It’s hidden with the rest. Back of the tome, the records I kept. Too late…” Grendla repeated the words again and again, white spittle dripping down her chin and onto her lap.
“Did you ever see any visions about me?” Vi dared to ask. “You were a future seer in the Crossroads, right? Did you—”
“Too late… too late…”
Vi straightened, looking down at the woman. Maybe a day more, and she would be in the pit with the rest of them. But she’d secured enough information for now—a headway.
Now, to find the remnants of the caravan, and some kind of record book.
Chapter Seven
They were silent walking back from the clinic. It wasn’t until they were halfway back to his home that Darrus finally removed his mask.
“Did you get what you needed?” he asked, not looking at her.
“I did… I know I’ve already asked too much of you.” He snorted at that, but Vi ignored it. “Do you know where the Western Caravans were set up?”
“Other side of the amphitheater,” he answered. “But there’s not much left there, now. They were ransacked, you know?”
She didn’t. “I still have to look. There may be some of her things there—family heirlooms.”
“Do you need me to come with you?” His body language and tone made clear he didn’t want to.
“No,” Vi said softly. “You’ve done enough for me for one night.” She pulled off her mask, handing it back to him. “Thank you, though. You don’t know how much you’ve helped.”
“Helped by showing you death?” He stared into the goggles of the mask, as if asking it the question more than her.
“Yes,” she answered firmly. “My kin aside… I needed to see the White Death with my own two eyes. Solaris needs a ruler who has seen it, who knows it and doesn’t hide behind castle walls.” She’d make every effort to stress as much to Romulin.
“It does indeed.” Darrus looked over her shoulder in the direction of the amphitheater. “Go safely, princess.”
“You too.” With that, they headed their separate ways. She was halfway to the remnants of the caravan when she realized that was likely the last time she’d ever see Darrus. Vi turned in place, even though there was no possible way to catch him still. He was long gone.
She pushed onward.
The remnants of the winter solstice were still visible in the city and it filled her with an uncomfortable sense of dread. There were clearings that had been made for dancing surrounded by the empty stands Vi had sat on with her friends in the final moments before the outbreak. Whole sections of abandoned markets looked like remnants of a battlefield that no one had the energy to clean.
Vi couldn’t blame them. The stink of death was heavy in the city. Now that she had seen the White Death with her own eyes, she could see its mark everywhere. In some cases, literal marks: white exes painted on doors.
Her eyes were bleary, heavy, but Vi forced herself to stay alert. The last time she’d been wandering at night, an assassin was lurking. The elfin’ra could come at any time.
“Where would you be?” she murmured as she rounded behind the amphitheater.
There was an open stretch of land that had some makeshift stables—empty. The grass was condensed, showing where wagons and carts had stood for days, but the carts themselves were gone. The remnants of a caravan were all there… except for the caravan itself.
“Mother,” Vi cursed softly, walking through the empty field. Her eyes caught a pale streak of orange. Kneeling down, she pressed her fingers into the fine powder that was slowly seeping into the earth. Raising her hand to her face, she inhaled. “Spices…”
They had been here, certainly. But where were their things? Darrus had said they’d been ransacked, but she’d expected there’d still be remnants—like sun-bleached bones picked clean by birds.
But there was nothing here. If not for the imprints on the grass and having been told, she would’ve never thought the caravan had been there at all.
Vi rubbed her eyes, forcing herself to think. The prisoner, the woman, and now the trail went cold. She let out a groan of frustration and lapped the clearing, searching for someone who might know. But she was just as alone as when she’d first set out.
Alone and frustrated was ultimately how she returned to the fortress.
The sky was bleeding red as Vi made her way upward through the tree trunks and stairwells back to her room. No one stopped her, no one paid her any mind. She didn’t even need to say a word. Which was good, because she was so exhausted she didn’t even know if she could manage to conceal her voice. Maintaining Jayme’s face to get in and up was almost too much.
A few steps from her room, tucked away in a blind spot, Vi let go of her guise with a sigh. Another night of no sleep behind her, likely another ahead, too. She had to figure out where the key had gone before she left the North.
Vi opened the door to her room and stopped dead in her tracks.
She wasn’t alone.
A pair of brown eyes—identical to the ones she’d just worn—stared at her, narrowed, waiting. Jayme had positioned one of the chairs from Vi’s table to face the door. Her fingers thrummed along the armrest impatiently.
“Close the door,” she said softly. “I don’t think you want anyone overhearing this conversation.”
Vi did as she was told. She was too tired to argue and Jayme looked as though she’d tolerate none of it.
“I think you know why I’m here.”
“Do I?” Vi leaned against the door.
Jayme sighed, shook her head, steepled her fingers, and then went back to gripping the armrests. She clearly couldn’t make up her mind as to what emotion she wanted to portray.
“How did you do it?” Jayme pushed away from the chair, beginning to pace. “I expected you to come in with make up, and masks, something more than… you.”
“How did you find out?” Vi asked instead, hoping Jayme wouldn’t notice she hadn’t answered the question.
“Imagine my surprise when, on my way to my morning rounds, I was stopped by Parn and asked when I returned. I didn’t recall leaving.”
“Did you tell him that?”
“Of course not.” Jayme paused, looking to Vi. “I know when you’re up to something, even if I don’t know the details of how or why.” The statement was definitely angry, but maybe a little proud too. Vi fought a smile. “So I came right here, confirmed my suspicion, and waited. Now, tell me what you did.” Jayme folded her arms over her chest, turning to face her, legs wide, as if ready for a battle.
“I can’t—”
“Do not give me that, Vi Solaris.” Jayme pointed at her. “I am expected to be your guard. How in the Mother’s name am I supposed to do that if you’re continually running off, going gods know where, in the middle of the night without me?”
“Trust me when I say it’s for the good of the Empire.” And the world.
“Trust me when I say I believe you.” Jayme sighed and shook her head. “Vi, I’m not Jax, your mother, or father. Frankly, I couldn’t find any way to care less about discipline or making sure you ‘act a princess.’ That’s not my place. The only thing I want to do is protect you. So please, for that sake alone, tell me what’s going on?”
Vi looked to the window. The sky was turning orange and that meant servants would be
coming soon. She did a quick mental tally. Perhaps Jayme was right. She wouldn’t betray her confidence and run to Jax or her mother. It could benefit her to have an ally…
“Remember how I said I saw visions at special places?”
“Is that what this is about? Another vision?”
“More or less.” Vi held up her hand, showing was easier than telling. “Durroe watt ivin.” Vi stepped forward into the illusion.
Jayme’s eyes widened to a third of the size of her face. She took a step forward, then back. “H-how? What magic is this?”
“It’s complicated.” Vi let go of the glyph and with it the guise of being Jayme’s twin. “I have a rare magic…” Rare in the Solaris Empire, at least. “And part of learning it is rooted in my visions.”
“That’s why you’re so adamant…”
“And… I want to see my father,” Vi confessed, looking at her toes. “I’m still hopeful.”
After a moment, Jayme crossed over to her. Her toes appeared in Vi’s field of vision and Vi felt the weight of her hand clasping over her shoulder. She looked up, meeting Jayme’s soft brown eyes.
“I don’t blame you for that. But from now on, let me help you. You can trust me—I’m supposed to keep you safe. After we leave the North, it’s going to be you and me.” She had a point. Vi’s circle of friends wasn’t exactly large, and it was about to shrink by a fourth.
“I will keep you in the know,” Vi promised, hoping she could keep it.
“Good. Did you get everything you needed tonight?”
“Unfortunately not.” Vi started for her room, talking as she went. They were running out of time, and she needed to be in bed. “I made progress… but I needed to get to the Western Caravan and that ended up being impossible, so my lurking is on hold for now.”
“Western Caravan?”
“The one that had the spices… they have an heirloom of my family and I think it may literally be the key to the next vision.” Vi stepped into her dressing room, quickly donning her sleeping shift. “But they were completely gone, so—”
“Yes, Sehra had us confiscate all their goods right when she caught wind of possible looting.”
“What?” Vi froze.
“When she arrested the Westerners and had them rounded up, she also had us collect their things in the night—that way they wouldn’t be raided, stolen, or destroyed… More destroyed than they were in the initial rage.”
Sehra was brilliant. It wasn’t the first time Vi stood in awe of her tactical mind and foresight.
“Where is it? Here in the fortress?” Vi asked eagerly.
“I believe so.” Jayme looked to the door, her mind no doubt going to the same place Vi’s was. Any second, a servant would walk in. “Let me look into it and I—”
“I have to get to it before we go south.” Vi grabbed Jayme’s wrist. “Please.”
“I’m going to look into it today.” Jayme pulled free her hand. “Trust me, Vi. I’m here to help.”
“I know.” Vi scooped her up into a hug, feeling the woman stiffen as she usually did. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet… wait until I actually have answers for you.”
“Just being willing to help is enough,” Vi assured her.
Jayme gave a small smile, then looked to the window. “Catch an hour of sleep, if you can. I’ll come back tonight after dinner and report.”
“Thank you,” Vi called after her as she pulled back her bed linens.
“Don’t thank me yet!” Jayme repeated. Vi felt an answering smile spread across her lips.
The door closed behind her friend and Vi settled into the plush of her mattress. She listened as the outer door closed as well, her eyes drifting shut with it. For a few blissful moments, there was silence. Vi thought briefly about summoning Taavin again to give a report of her own. But Jayme was right: if she could catch just an hour of sleep, it’d be enough to get through the day.
But that was too much to hope for, as the door to her main room was opened with such vigor that it thumped against the wall.
“Princess!”
Vi pressed her eyes closed, and braced herself for the unrelenting chaos that was about to descend on her.
Chapter Eight
Vi was on a pedestal, quite literally.
“I cannot believe they’re making you ride out.” Holina, Vi’s tailor, tittered over the pins that lined her mouth.
“It cannot be helped,” Martis reminded Holina. “With the way the White Death is now, there is no reason to subject the Empress Regent or Prince Romulin to the city.”
They talked about the White Death so casually, as though it were a rainstorm or unfinished stretch of road—inconvenient for their purposes, but otherwise unimportant. The clinic she had seen with Darrus was seared in her mind. The disease was far more serious than they gave it credit for. But Vi kept her mouth shut. She was far too tired today.
“Still, I would like to see her fitted in a more proper gown for the reception. Riding—what am I supposed to do with that?” Holina shook her head and put a few pins in the asymmetrical hem that extended down to the floor behind her, and to her mid-thigh in the front. She’d sewn wonders in just one night. “And considering her highness will not ride side-saddle…”
“It’s utterly impractical.” Vi stood her ground. “And I have never once seen my mother ride in any way but astride.”
“Your mother has her habits from when she was younger,” Holina murmured.
“Excuse me?” Vi looked down to the woman. Her mother may have been common born, but she had now been Empress for over twenty years. And now she was Empress Regent. With the declaration of her father’s death, Vi’s mother was no longer the Empress; she was merely holding Vi’s seat until she was crowned. That didn’t mean Vi would tolerate anything intended to be disparaging against her family.
“Let’s remain focused,” Martis said hastily, tapping his papers spread out on Vi’s table across the room. “There will be an imperial contingent that will—”
“I’ve come with lunch!” Jax announced, opening the door to her common area. Martis groaned at the continual interruptions.
“Thank the mother.” Vi’s stomach growled in anticipation. They’d been fussing over her since dawn.
“No eating for you yet, princess.” Holina had a death-grip on her hem. “I need you in place if I’m to finish this in the next day.”
Jax attempted to come to her defense, but Holina stopped him with a hand.
“She can eat when I’m off stitching.”
Vi stared down at the bolts of golden fabric wrapped around her body. Cut, hemmed, and trimmed to the most flattering shapes on her. She was never one to put much stock in fashion, but in the wake of everything she now knew about their world and its state, it seemed even more pointless.
She would ride in finery, putting on a strong mask, as there was a pit full of the dying a stone’s throw from her.
* * *
Vi took dinner alone.
After being poked and prodded all day, and every person in her employ coming to instruct her about something, she was well and truly done with people. She knew she should’ve gone and had dinner with Sehra and her family—for Ellene’s sake, if nothing else. But Vi was far too tired.
Instead, food was sent to her and she ate it with gusto before picking at the scraps as she inspected the aftermath of all the activity that had taken place in her room. Vi trailed her fingers along the couches and table; the objects she’d always known and used would not be coming with her on this journey. Books were the only exception.
Romulin could enjoy them after she left.
Vi stood in the doorway of her study. The world outside had gone dark, and the room was now lit by flickering candles on either side of her drafting table. All her maps had been removed and carefully rolled before being placed into tubes. Most of her books were packed into trunks, but a few still lined the shelves, waiting to be collected.
The door to h
er room opened, stealing her attention. Vi’s eyes met Jayme’s and they stared at each other for a long moment.
“I found it,” Jayme announced, stepping in. She had her sword strapped to her hip. Even though Vi sincerely hoped they wouldn’t need it, she was glad to see the smith had finished repairing it before they had to leave. “The remnants of the caravan—their goods. It’s all here in the fortress.”
“That makes it easier. Where are they?”
“In the storerooms by the warriors’ barracks.”
“Are they guarded?”
“Not exactly, but the entrance is where warriors walk frequently.” Jayme’s tone was uncertain, less than thrilled, but not totally dejected. Which told Vi there was a chance to get in.
“Thank you. I can take it from here.”
Jayme caught her wrist as Vi started for the door. The woman’s grip was much stronger than it looked—and Jayme already looked strong. “Not so fast. You agreed to let me help protect you.”
“You said it was in the fortress. I’m not venturing beyond protection this time.”
“Firstly, this time matters as much as the next. I want you to be in a habit of including me.” Jayme held her grip firm. “Secondly, I can help you.”
“You saw my magic…” Vi didn’t think she’d need to remind Jayme after the woman’s reaction the night before. “I can be well hidden.”
“Does your magic tell you the warriors’ rounds also? Does it tell you when they’ll be coming and going, or up on the wall? Does your magic keep watch for you? Can it offer a convenient excuse if you’re caught?” Jayme slowly released her grip on Vi. “There’s no shame in having some help,” Jayme said softly.
“All right,” Vi reluctantly agreed. She’d always had either Jayme or Ellene by her side. Just because the stakes had changed didn’t mean she had to let go of her friends entirely. “Let’s go.”
“Not yet.” Jayme looked to the clock that hung on Vi’s wall. “Wait an hour, then we’ll go.”