Vortex Chronicles: The Complete Series

by Kova, Elise

  “Have you seen it?”

  “Yes—in your eyes, right now.” Fiera squeezed her hand. Vi felt herself unraveling.

  “I wanted to save you,” she whispered. “I’ve tried so hard. I’ve tried everything to save you.”

  “The Mother has a plan for us all. I’m glad I could protect my people when Tiberus came. That I could honor my family and see the Ci’Dan bloodline live on… it is enough.” Fiera gently stroked her stomach.

  Vi hung her head, shaking it from side to side. “Her plan for you ends in death. It always does. I’ve tried more times than you or I can fathom to save you. To give your son the mother he deserves.”

  “Perhaps there are things my son cannot learn if I am there.” Fiera wriggled her hand free, cupping Vi’s cheek. “I am not afraid of my future.”

  Her expression was open and honest. Vi studied those brave eyes, memorizing them, imprinting them on herself. Everyone told her she had Fiera’s face. Perhaps, through all this, she could gain her bravery, too.

  “I have to go now. I can’t stay and try to protect you further from the vicious fate that wants you dead,” Vi said, though she didn’t move. Fiera was stable, warm, and confident even in the face of overwhelming odds. Part of Vi was trying to steal it through osmosis.

  “Where will you go?”

  “I tried to protect the sword. I spoke true when I told you that it was my sole duty to defend it and this world… Because of me, Zira gave her life to that end. But the Knights of Jadar have the sword now. And if they go to the Caverns, they will seek to—”

  “Use the sword to unlock the power there,” Fiera finished. Another wince and another massage of her stomach.

  “How did you know?”

  “The sword was locked away for a long time… But when the war with Solaris began, my father told me where it was hidden. It was my duty to use the sword to keep our people safe. So I read as much as I could on the old records from the Burning Times.” Fiera grimaced at the last two words. It had nothing to do with her body and everything to do with the dark aura cast by mentioning the long-ago period during which the West captured and murdered Windwalkers in the East. “The records held information on the sword—not much, but enough.”

  “What kind of information?”

  Windwalkers were the one affinity on the Dark Isle that was said to be immune to crystal taint. Knowing what she knew now, Vi would postulate it was because of what aspects of Yargen’s magic they inherited from the scythe. Or perhaps it was because the scythe had long been removed from the continent. Either way, she made a connection that she never had before: The Burning Times were Jadar’s first attempt at unlocking the power of the Crystal Caverns.

  “Mostly how the sword could be used to free the deeper power in the Caverns. But the writings had enough on the power within the sword itself that I was able to fortify the barrier that helped protect Norin for so long.”

  “You… you formed a barrier,” Vi whispered. That night of the surrender, she had seen Fiera and the sword—how the wall around Norin had held against all odds. It was more than just the magic of Groundbreakers. Fiera had imbued the wall with the power of Yargen. It explained why the sword had felt weaker than the scythe. “I-I should’ve spoken to you much sooner,” Vi blurted. Guilt swelled like summer heat. If she’d only spoken with Fiera rather than keeping everything a secret, she would’ve had an ally in figuring out the power of the crystals rather than struggling on her own. “What can you tell me about this barrier? How do I form it?”

  “I don’t think I could teach you—” another hiss of pain and a deep breath “—at this exact moment.”

  For the first time in her life, Vi cursed her father.

  “Tell me what you can,” she implored. “There isn’t much time. The Knights have only just taken the sword and if I go after them now—”

  “I would if I could.” Fiera squeezed her hand. “But it took me years of study to learn and gain even the smallest mastery of that magic. However…”

  “However?” Vi asked cautiously. Fiera had a glint in her eye that Vi wasn’t entirely certain she liked. It was the sort of spark Vi usually associated with a bad idea. She knew it well, because she’d seen it in the mirror many times.

  “I could do it.”

  “What?”

  “After my son is born, I could go with you.”

  “You— you’ll— I haven’t given birth before but I know enough to know you shouldn’t be riding hard across half the Empire immediately after,” Vi said bluntly.

  “Weren’t you the one to tell me my life is forfeit?”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “If it is the Mother’s will that I die, regardless of what actions you or I take, then allow me this. Allow my death to mean something as my life has meant something.”

  “I cannot allow this,” Vi insisted. “It’s suicide. What you’re suggesting is suicide.”

  “If you have magic that allows you to wield flames and take the faces of others, do you not also possess healing abilities beyond those of our clerics here on the Main Continent?”

  “I do…” Vi said hesitantly. Well, she didn’t. Her use of halleth still hadn’t progressed very far. But Vi suspected she knew someone who had a much better handle on it.

  “Then heal me, relieve my pain, and let me go with you. Perhaps then it won’t be suicide like you say. Give me the chance to surprise you and fate itself. Perhaps your error has been trying to save me, when I need to save myself.” Fiera settled back on the pillows, wincing once more. “This is my choice. Honor it.”

  It was a demand Vi finally obliged. She would do her best to see Fiera’s will done, and keep her alive as long as possible. Her plans might have been ruined, but she had stayed this long to be by her grandmother’s side—no, her friend’s side. She would stay longer.

  “Very well.”

  “Good. You know, you’re nearly as stubborn as I am.” The grin Fiera wore made Vi wonder if she suspected more than she let on. “Now, fetch me a quill and parchment while I still have a clear head and can focus enough to hold a quill. I wish to leave a letter for my sisters.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Vi hovered in the alcove she’d hidden in before, wearing the face of the young cleric, this time with Fiera’s letter in hand. She watched as Fiera called for the clerics and they bounded through the door, no doubt having been waiting outside the entire time.

  Demands flew from Fiera’s mouth and the healers began to flit in and out, bustling to meet her orders. Her contractions were coming closer together. She was demanding a draught to speed them further, to “get the child out” of her at all costs.

  In the chaos, Vi slipped out unnoticed.

  She walked through the halls, waiting until she was alone to release her illusion. Down a narrow wooden stair with handrails so worn by time that they were oiled to a shine, and through a side hallway, Vi let herself into Fiera’s old room.

  The smell of cinders overwhelmed her. Every heavy velvet chair and curtain was coated in the scent of incense—an aroma too potent to have faded since Fiera moved into what were now the Imperial quarters.

  Vi headed for the bedroom, remembering what Fiera had said.

  My sisters and I used to leave notes for each other…

  They had a system, she’d explained. Fiera seemed to think that once it was known that she was missing, her sisters would execute a covert search. If either of them entered the bedroom, they’d head straight for the ornately carved headboard.

  Kneeling on the mattress, Vi pushed on one of the carved suns and it slid to the side, revealing a tiny, hollow space. She placed the folded-up note inside, careful not to break Fiera’s seal, then slid it back closed. Vi didn’t know what the woman had written. But she trusted Fiera wouldn’t betray Vi’s true nature. Trusted her enough not to give into curiosity and temptation.

  After, Vi headed down to the council. They were all gathered in the chambers and, from the sounds of it, De
neya had brought in her spiced liquor for everyone to enjoy. The fact complimented her plans nicely. If everyone was slightly sauced, they’d notice oddities on a delay.

  “You there.” Vi stopped a servant as he was about to carry a carafe into the room. “Tell Councilor Denja to step out, please?”

  The boy gave a nod. After a few seconds, Deneya emerged as requested. The moment her eyes met Vi’s she strolled over, her pace quickening when she was out of sight of the rest of those gathered.

  “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

  “You didn’t like anything about me from the first moment—admit it.”

  “Sounds about right.” Deneya put her hands into the pockets of her trousers, a motion that reminded Vi painfully of Zira. “What do you need, Champion?”

  “How committed are you to this post?”

  It was likely the Knights would pin the bodies in the alley and inn on Vi or Deneya as repayment for Vi’s earlier movements against them. When Fiera vanished, there would be suspicion around that, too—especially since Vi and Deneya would vanish alongside her.

  At best, Vi hoped Fiera’s letter would absolve them both. Perhaps the royal family would strive to save face by keeping Fiera’s disappearance a secret, claiming she died on the birthing bed as they had in Vi’s time.

  But by now, Vi knew better than to hope for the best.

  She had to plan for the worst.

  “Lumeria instructed that I was to keep an eye on the events of the Dark Isle, specifically surrounding the Crystal Caverns,” Deneya said somewhat cautiously. “Though how I do that, specifically, is up to me.”

  “Excellent. The Crystal Caverns are just where we’re going.”

  “Excuse me?” Deneya balked.

  “I don’t have time to explain in detail.”

  “When do you ever?” She sighed heavily.

  “But we’re going tonight. How good are you with halleth ruta?”

  “Quite excellent, if I do say so myself.” Deneya puffed her chest slightly.

  “Superb. You’ll be the one to heal Fiera, then.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I can stop her from feeling pain with halleth maph, but my flesh mending needs work. You’ll need to go up there as soon as the room quiets following the birth, masquerade as one of her servants or clerics, heal her, then sneak her out. Meanwhile, I’ll be readying us to go. I’ll take the Empress’s warstrider and—”

  Deneya grabbed her shoulder, shoving her against the wall. Vi blinked, seeing stars for a moment. The world came back into focus with Deneya’s face right before hers, their noses almost touching. The woman was much stronger than Vi had given her credit for.

  “Stop, and explain this to me properly if you want my help.”

  “The Knights of Jadar got help from Adela’s pirates. I underestimated them.” Accepting fault was a bitter pill, but the more she did it the easier it became, and the faster Vi moved on from it. “There was a morphi and a Lightspinner. The morphi got off with the blade before I could stop her. The Lightspinner is dead.”

  “Bloody pirate queen,” Deneya snarled, though not at Vi.

  “If we don’t go after them tonight, we might not get to the Caverns before they do. We can get a head start because the Knights need to detour to get the sword from Adela. If they get to the Caverns before we do, Raspian is free. It’s over.”

  Deneya looked at her with her brilliant, purple-ringed eyes. Vi could almost feel her prodding, poking into her brain for the slightest hint of a lie. She must’ve found none, because Deneya released her.

  Vi eased away from the wall, rolling her shoulders. “Help me?”

  “What did you say I told you once? The other me in that other world of yours… Seek me out, and my sword is yours.”

  “Well, is it?”

  “Yes.” Deneya nodded. “Lumeria put me here to watch over the Caverns. I’ve been here for decades and you, in a few months, have accomplished more than I could toward that end. I’m aligned with you, Vi, before all others.”

  “Good. Then pack lightly, but make sure you have all you need. We won’t be coming back. After, get to Fiera. She knows of Lightspinning and about Meru. You won’t surprise her.”

  “She does?”

  Vi ignored the woman’s shock. “She does. When you get her stable, meet me at the entrance to the dungeons.”

  “Very well.” Deneya was clearly still skeptical about the whole plan—which Vi hardly blamed her for—but she didn’t question further.

  They parted ways and Vi returned to her room, rummaging through it for a pack and two bags. She loaded the pack with basic clothes and supplies. On the way through the castle, she ran to the guards’ storerooms for a few salves and potions, then the kitchens for rations, filling the other two bags with as much as they could carry.

  Vi headed for the dungeons next. She cursed her luck that the same elderly man as before wasn’t stationed at the entrance. It was a young guard whose name Vi couldn’t remember. She stashed the bags behind a sculpture two hallways up and then sprinted back down, gulping air to catch her breath so she wasn’t winded.

  “Report,” Vi commanded as she strode into the room.

  “Captain!” The man jumped, stuttering over his words. “Nothing new to report. All is quiet.”

  “How many do we have jailed?”

  “Currently, just three here.”

  “Their crimes?”

  “Unruliness… a servant charged with castle theft… one of them is suspected of being a Knight of Jadar.” He read off a list.

  “No issues from them?” The guard shook his head. Vi forced a gentle smile. “Then I think you should go upstairs and enjoy the festivities.”

  “Pardon?”

  “It’s not every night an heir is born. Go, celebrate with the rest for three hours.” She hoped it’d be enough time to get Fiera through. If not, Vi would figure out something else when the time came. “I’ll take care of things here.” Vi punctuated the sentiment with a conspiratorial wink.

  “Are you sure?” The man was already headed for the door.

  “Absolutely. Go on, have fun, time’s ticking.” Vi glanced at her watch for emphasis, and when she looked up, he was gone. She counted down a minute before following behind him, backtracking to her supplies, and then returning to the dungeons.

  Down into the darkness, Vi wound through the mazes of cells. Even though she’d only been down this way once, Vi walked with confidence. Her mind had instinctively made a map of the area.

  With the key Zira had entrusted her with, Vi opened the cell door and pushed the cot aside. She summoned a mote of flame, and her courage with it, before stepping down into the inky blackness of the underground tunnel.

  The rapid beating of her heart slowed as Vi ventured further down the path. The tunnel was rough-hewn—cut out from the rock in some places and mortared with stone in others. Every now and then she had to duck underneath a rotting support beam, or side-step so her and the bags could fit through. But the pitch black of the tunnel’s entrance was far more intimidating than the tunnel itself.

  There was only one path and it felt like forever. Eventually, much as it had with Erion’s escape route, Vi saw the first traces of pale moonlight on the rock. She extinguished her flame and stepped out onto a wide ledge that overlooked a small ravine with the ocean on the other side.

  To her right, the cliff stretched upward, peaking at the rich area of town. To her left, the path continued down and away from Norin—out of sight, thanks to the large wall that still bordered the sea on this side. The walkway would be wide enough for a horse, Vi decided as she made her way quickly along it.

  She went down far enough that she could see how the path wound through the rocky outcroppings of the cliff, hidden by archways and overhangs, twisting around large boulders, before the path finally blended into the open Waste at the far southern edge of the city.

  Armed with this information, Vi sandwiched her bags between two large rocks a
nd sprinted back the way she came.

  By the time she arrived at the stables, her side ached and her lungs were burning. Even having worked to keep up her stamina by training with the soldiers, Vi could tell the past few months had been relatively easy on her. She felt soft in places she hadn’t in what seemed like years.

  “How to get the horses…” Vi murmured, hovering in the shadows near a side door to the castle.

  People streamed in and out of the main hall. There were guards everywhere. She could go into the city and steal a random horse. That would certainly be easier.

  But Vi didn’t want any horse. She needed a warstrider—no, two warstriders. The beasts were bred for long, hard rides through the Waste’s sands. They had the size and stamina to support two people and supplies with ease. They were her best chance of getting ahead of the Knights.

  Vi had a black and white warstrider mare named Midsummer she’d inherited from Zira. The woman wasn’t able take the horse with her, given the circumstances of how she’d left the castle. The creature had been a gift from Fiera and was almost as impressive as the Empress’s all-black stallion, Prism.

  “All right,” Vi said with conviction. If she couldn’t convince herself this half-baked lie would work, then how could she expect anyone else to believe it? “Let’s do this.”

  During the next lull in the flow of people, Vi strode out into the stables focusing on one boy who was busy keeping up the tack room.

  “You there.” He turned to her, looking exhausted. “I need my mount saddled, as well as the Empress’s, and taken out. Plain leathers, please. Nothing ceremonial.”

  For a brief second it seemed like he was going to inquire further. But either he was too tired, or Vi’s rank was too high for him to question. The boy nodded and began going about the request.

  Vi glanced down the stables. The stable master was hunched over his ledgers, intermittently barking orders at the others. Word must have spread like wildfire of Fiera’s labor and some of the nobles who had longer rides were coming into town.

  “All set,” the boy said, before dragging his feet toward the stable master for his next task.