Vortex Chronicles: The Complete Series

by Kova, Elise

  All objections dropped with her stomach. A sorrow unlike anything Vi had ever felt before flooded in, filling the space, rising through her chest and pouring from her eyes and onto her cheeks before she even had a chance to stop it. She pulled her wrist from Ellene’s grasp and threw her arms around the girl, her friend—her sister of another’s blood. Vi tightened her grip and Ellene held her just as fiercely. Crushed against each other, they could each feel the quivering breaths, the shaking shoulders of the other that meant the tears finally won.

  The two sat, quietly crying, holding each other, airing their grief in private, so that they would each be prepared to wear the faces of royalty when the world needed to witness them separate for good.

  * * *

  When Vi descended, it was with a stoic Ellene at her side. Jax and Jayme were behind them, Andru and her tutors behind even them. Not one more word was said among any of them the entire way through the fortress.

  The horses were already saddled, carts strapped to bigger stallions who could bear the loads. At the front was a massive warstrider—black, said to have descended from the same lineage of equestrians as her father’s favored mount.

  Sehra and Za were waiting for them, and Vi said her goodbyes and final thank-yous in a blur. She wanted to ask if the traveler had said anything else. If Sehra had secretly known about the visions, or somehow had some of her own. But nothing mattered now other than the road ahead.

  Nothing could change the path she was on—the path that led to her mother, brother, father, and a man far across the sea.

  Ellene stayed at her mothers’ sides as Vi continued on alone. The jungle had never felt so cold, though Vi was dressed in more layers than she usually sported. Her hair was carefully done, the riding clothes that had been made for her impeccably stitched.

  She was the image of perfection, molded in every way.

  Perfect… so long as no one looked past the facade to the nearly crippling worry and doubt that festered within.

  Vi mounted and two servants helped adjust the elongated train Holina had stitched over her mount’s haunches. Vi took up the white leather reins and spared a moment to admire the gilded buckles and embellishments glinting in the sunlight. She suppressed a snort at the notion that she and her mount were similarly bedazzled, the golden circlet she wore heavy on her brow. “Are you ready?” Jax asked softly.

  “I am.” Vi did not take her eyes off the road ahead. A princess did not waver or hesitate. And she was not going to smear her makeup a second time with doubt or fear. The colors on her face were now her mask and her warpaint, protecting and strengthening her.

  “Keep your head high.”

  “I know.” She turned slowly to him, her back rigid in the saddle. “They will see my strength.”

  Jax stared at her for a long moment, and Vi didn’t know what he saw. “When you’re ready, your highness.”

  The gate was open before them. Warriors lined the way, halfway down the road. A contingent of Southern soldiers in gleaming plate surrounded her, more at the end of her parade. Four held pennons, the Solaris sun emblazoned on white.

  “Onward,” Vi commanded loudly.

  “Onward!” Jayme repeated.

  The soldiers spurred their horses to movement.

  She passed the stables for the last time. Vi took one last inhale of straw and noru feed. The wall was behind them, warriors saluting as they passed.

  Some of the citizenry had come out to witness them. They stood in eerie silence. There were no cheers or shouts of farewell. No well wishes were lauded on her.

  Vi didn’t blame them for it. She was the representation of the Empire that had brought them to heel. The same Empire they now blamed for the disease tearing apart their families.

  In a blur, she thought she saw Darrus. But Vi didn’t dare turn her head. She had to stay focused, or the careful balance of her charade may come toppling down. They continued to speed away from everything she’d ever known, to the fate that awaited her.

  The party went through the trees, past the barren ring outside of Soricium, further down the North West Way. They rode for what seemed like forever—though Vi knew it was merely minutes, not even hours. Further down the road, her eyes landed on two mounts—the same size as hers—waiting in the center.

  On one dark brown horse was a woman, a crown extending from her brow. On the white horse beside her sat a blond haired man. Surrounding them, stretching back into the trees on mount and foot, were soldiers at attention to receive them.

  As they neared, Vi felt moisture on her cheeks, and she worked to hastily wipe it away as inconspicuously as possible. Princesses didn’t cry in front of their army, and this was the second time in one day her emotions had betrayed her. It was already less of a reception than the Senate had intended, thanks to the White Death, so Vi didn’t want to do anything that could force further deviation from formality, from their plans.

  But laying eyes on her brother—her twin—for the first time was almost more emotion than she could bear.

  Chapter Ten

  She wanted to leap from her horse and onto his.

  The world had stopped existing around her—shifting of plate armor and stomping of horses was muffled and gone. The only other person was Romulin. His sky blue eyes stared at her on a canvas of Southern pale skin—only lightly kissed from the sun on their long journey. Like day and night, brother and sister couldn’t look more different.

  But in his eyes, Vi saw her mother and father. Where the rest of the world saw differences between them, she saw an undeniable kinship that may well only be recognizable to her…and hopefully to him.

  “Greetings, my daughter.” It seemed Vi wasn’t the only one fighting tears. “It is good to see you again.”

  “And you as well, mother.” Vi lowered her head slightly.

  “We are enthusiastic to receive you, and to take you home.”

  “I am enthusiastic to return to the lands of my forefathers.” All eyes were on them. Every ear in the clearing was attuned to their conversation. Her tutors had gone over this exchange in particular over and over again, drilling in the words Vi needed to say. “And I am both honored and humbled by this display of the might of Solaris on my behalf.” Vi lifted her arm and swept it across her body, gesturing to the soldiers.

  “We would traverse the world to collect the heir to the Solaris throne.”

  Vi certainly hoped not.

  “Shall we begin our journey?” Vi proposed.

  Her mother bowed her head, and Romulin mirrored the action. With a gentle tug of their reins they maneuvered their horses to the sides of the road, leaving a clear path for Vi between them. She, not her mother, was to head the army.

  They all believed her father was dead. Which meant they saw her as their ruler. Her coronation was perceived as a mere formality, an eventuality.

  In the eyes of all those surrounding her—in the eyes of the world—she was now the head of the Solaris Empire.

  And she would ride forth to prove them all wrong.

  Vi gave her mount a gentle nudge and the beast moved forward. Her mother fell into place just behind and to the right, Romulin on the left. One by one the rank and file moved behind her as they began their long march south.

  * * *

  Her emotions were ready to burst by the time they stopped their march for the day. Vi was eager to be off her horse. But she waited to receive directions as they broke for camp.

  “Your highness.” Jayme rode up swiftly as Vi had just turned her mount to speak with Romulin. “Please, come this way. I shall show you to your tent.”

  Vi looked to her brother and mother.

  “When you are both settled,” Vhalla said, looking at both her children in turn, “come to my tent and we shall have dinner together.”

  “Yes, mother,” Romulin said with a nod—though his attention was on Vi, as hers was on him. “Shall I come and collect you, sister?”

  His voice was smooth, soft, not unlike Taavin’s in th
ose respects. But where Taavin’s accent made his words more lyrical and overall lighter, Romulin’s quiet words were weighty with the natural bass of his voice. It wasn’t how Vi had imagined he’d sound, and Vi found herself oddly pleased about the fact.

  “I would like that.” She gave a small nod.

  “Excellent, I’ll be with you shortly. If you’ll excuse me for now.” Her mother followed behind him, leaving Vi and Jayme alone.

  “If you’ll follow me.” Jayme dismounted, handing her horse to a waiting soldier.

  Vi did the same, silently grateful her stiff legs did not give out. Riding for hours on end wasn’t something she was accustomed to and she’d have to develop stamina fast. Ignoring the aches and needles sinking into her muscles with every movement, Vi walked tall.

  “It is a wonder how you take steps at all after your long rides,” Vi mumbled under her breath for Jayme alone as the other soldier walked away with their horses. From the corners of her eyes, she could’ve sworn she saw the woman fighting a smirk.

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  “I hope so, otherwise I’ll be landing on my bum tomorrow when my legs give up on me.”

  They walked through camp. Vi was keenly aware of the feeling of all eyes on her. She always thought she garnered attention everywhere she went in Soricium, but now she realized the city was largely accustomed to the crown princess in their midst. These soldiers looked at her as though she was the Mother given flesh.

  Vi tried to ignore them. Her tutors had said that the worst thing that could happen was to stare back and acknowledge them. She had to hold herself apart—regal—and hope they grew bored of her soon enough.

  Jayme led her toward a tall, six-sided tent. It had one flap opening with a canopy suspended above. The pointed roof was supported by a single post inside. Soldiers were going in and out, carrying items and finishing tying off the last of the tent supports.

  “This will be your home on the road,” Jayme said, pausing in the opening.

  Vi stared, attempting to rectify the disconnect between what she was seeing and what her expectations for travel were. There was a proper bed, and a small sitting area of wooden folding chairs adorned with pillows and gathered around an iron brazier. There was even a table at naval height, the perfect place to stand and think and work.

  “This seems excessive…” Vi pitied the poor souls who had to set up and break down this behemoth every day. “Where are you staying?”

  “I have my own lodging to set up.” Jayme gave her a small grin, her demeanor relaxed in the semi-privacy of Vi’s abode. “I assure you it’s nothing to be jealous over.”

  “You could stay here with me. Mother knows, I have the room.” Vi motioned around her.

  “And then some,” Jayme muttered. “But no one would want me underfoot here.”

  “Underfoot? You could never be.”

  “I’m not anyone important, and you’ll be discussing sensitive matters of state here.”

  “I value your opinion. I want you here.”

  Jayme fought a small laugh, glancing outside. “Despite what they tell you, yours isn’t the only opinion that matters. You have to keep what others will think or feel in mind.”

  “But you—”

  “It’s fine, Vi.” Jayme turned to leave and Vi knew the woman wouldn’t hear any more of it. No matter how hard Vi tried, Jayme would always see herself as the odd woman out in a world of royals.

  “Stay a while. Just a little. Surely that’s all right.” Being alone with her thoughts and emotions was the last thing Vi wanted. The day was both joyous and sorrowful at the same time and she didn’t know which emotion would win. Perhaps they’d just split her right down the middle, tearing her apart from the inside out.

  “I need to set up my own tent.” Jayme stepped out under the canopy that stretched in front of the opening to Vi’s tent and started off to the right. “I figure you’ll want some time with your brother, in any case.”

  “I will, but when he gets here.” Vi followed behind, rounding the corner of one of the tent’s six sides. “Perhaps I can help set up your tent?”

  “I’m fine, Vi, really. I’m setting up right here by you. So if I really need help I’ll ask someone else… and then the crown princess.” Vi didn’t even bother hiding a grin at that particular smart remark. “Go get off your feet, you said they were hurting.”

  “You’re so stubborn.”

  “I have to be to contend with such a stubborn princess,” Jayme said, deadpan. Vi fought a snort at the quiet words. Jayme looked around; luckily none of the other soldiers had been listening in on their conversations. It reminded Vi they were in public once more. “I’ll catch up with you soon, Vi. I’ll be posted out front as your guard most of the time—you’re not going to escape me.”

  “All right,” Vi relented, and rounded the corner of her tent to leave Jayme to her work. She was right: Romulin would be there soon enough and then—

  She stopped the moment she lifted her tent flap.

  An unfamiliar man stood inside.

  He was stocky, biceps as big as her thighs. Usually, Vi could look a man that large in the eye and match his height. But this man was so tall she had to crane her neck to look up at him. A mess of shaggy, ruddy hair was cut just above his shoulders. He stood at her table, a box of her things before him, a journal in his hands—the journal into which Vi had copied Sehra’s words of power.

  “May I help you?” Vi asked coolly. A smug smile pushed his stubble—a brighter red than his hair—across his cheeks.

  “Merely unloading your things.” He set the journal down, slowly reaching for another. He was wearing the tabard of a foot soldier… but there was something markedly different from the other head-down soldiers she’d seen during the day. They’d looked at her through stolen glances and from the corners of their eyes. This man stared at her outright.

  Like a challenge.

  “I can do it, thank you.” Vi stepped to the side. The canvas flap closed behind her, casting the tent in twilight. She lifted her hand, motioning toward it. “You are dismissed.”

  “Are you certain, princess?” The man lifted another book. “I am here to serve.”

  “You may serve me by leaving me.”

  “Very well.” He shrugged and started for the door. The ground seemed to rumble under his massive, booted feet.

  She shouldn’t let him leave… yet. “What’s your name?”

  He stopped, turned, looked down at her. The man had a massive nose, almost beak-like, and thick black eyebrows that looked painted on. In fact, she was fairly sure they were, and they were in unnatural contrast to the brown-red of his hair.

  Where was shaving and painting one’s eyebrows considered fashionable?

  “Fallor.”

  “Fallor…” Vi repeated, trying to mimic the hard way his tongue landed on the O. “Where are you from?”

  “I doubt you’ve ever heard of it.” He smiled wider.

  “Try me. I am a hobbiest cartographer.”

  “It’s not a place you can draw on maps.” The man folded his arms over his chest, looking down at her with eyes that were such an icy blue-grey, they looked nearly purple.

  “What does that mean?” Vi’s voice dropped lower.

  “That—”

  “Sister?” The tent post by the flap rattled as Romulin knocked from the other side.

  “Excuse me, princess.” Fallor ducked his head and stepped out, giving a nod to Romulin as he passed. “Your highness.”

  “Who was that?” Romulin asked, seeing her on the other side of the tent flap and stepping inside. Vi was more focused on the soldier leaving.

  “I don’t rightly know. He called himself Fallor.” Vi walked over to the table, picking up the journal Fallor had been holding. Copying Sehra’s book on Lightspinning had been a liability—how had she not seen that before now? “I was hoping you might have seen him around before.”

  “There are so many soldiers, my head would explode
if I tried to remember them all.” The tent flap closed behind Romulin, casting the space in deeper darkness. Vi lit the brazier in the center of the room with a thought. Night was falling, and the heavy canopies of the jungle made it dark on the forest floors below.

  She walked over to the brazier, casting the book in the flame. Just because she’d made the mistake didn’t mean she had to live with it.

  “You’re burning it?” He balked.

  “I don’t make a habit of burning tomes.” She knew where his mind was without him having to say anything. “But it was a journal. The words within it are more of a liability than anything else.”

  “If you insist…” Romulin looked from the fire to her. “So it is true, then. Your magic has Awoken.”

  “It has.”

  “I’m so happy for you, sister!” Without warning he threw his arms around her, pulling her in for a tight embrace. Her brother was wider than the portrait artists had portrayed him, but Vi enjoyed the feeling of how stable he was in her arms.

  They pulled apart, before going back in once more for another long hug.

  “How I longed to see you,” he whispered in what sounded like relief. “Finally.”

  “I know.” Vi finally pulled back, to better take in her brother from head to toe. Even though he was younger by mere minutes, something about his shorter stature made her feel like a true elder, protective to boot. They continued staring for another few long minutes, before Vi broke the silence with a laugh. “I’ve replayed this meeting in my mind so many times, and now that it’s here I don’t know what to say.”

  “Thank the Mother I’m not alone in that.” He chuckled and then motioned to her sitting area. “Shall we sit?”

  “Yes, that sounds like a good place to start.” She was ready to settle into a long conversation with him, but as Vi went to sit down, her legs screamed in protest and she fell ungracefully onto her bottom.

  “Are you all right?” Romulin hastened to her side.