Vortex Chronicles: The Complete Series
Page 129
Borrowed time, a voice seemed to whisper from somewhere within her.
Yes, I’m on borrowed time, Vi thought in reply, touching the watch around her neck. Her body was a gift from the goddess, one she’d eventually have to return for the world to be saved. The thought should panic her. Vi felt as calm as the tall, still trees of the forest. But the thorny thoughts snagged her like the underbrush as they pushed deeper into the Twilight Forest.
“How do the morphi feel about Lightspinning at this point in time?” Vi asked. Taavin looked to Deneya.
“What?” Deneya glanced between them. “I haven’t been on Meru in a few decades. How am I supposed to know?”
“One way to find out. Durroe watt ivin.” A ball of light appeared above Vi’s open palm. It reminded her of the orbs she and Sehra would make when she was first learning her magic. Lifting her eyes from the illusion, Vi looked around the forest, waiting.
Deneya and Taavin both took a step closer. The three of them stood back-to-back, watching for any signs of movement. Collectively, they held their breaths until Vi dismissed the shining glyphs above her hand.
“I suppose they don’t have as hard of a stance toward Lightspinning as they did in the world we left,” Vi observed.
“Further proof that Ulvarth hasn’t begun closing in on them,” Taavin said bitterly.
“Let’s keep going.” Vi started off in no direction in particular. “We’ll meet a Morphi sooner or later.”
By late afternoon, their wandering intersected with the main road through the Twilight Forest and the three continued along it. There were no posted signs anywhere along the way, so they merely kept walking, hoping to be found. After about two more hours of wandering, they came to a bridge across a stream.
Vi paused, her hands on the worn stone, looking out over the water that flowed down and away toward the cliffs they’d climbed earlier.
“What is it?” Deneya asked.
“I wonder if it’s the same stream we stayed near the last time we were here,” Vi said thoughtfully, looking to Taavin.
“Perhaps, though I’ve had enough of that cave for several lifetimes.” He grimaced. The man’s mood only seemed to sour the longer they were on Meru. Vi couldn’t blame him. This forest, this land, was a place of memories for them both—good and bad mixed together.
“Let’s make camp soon,” Vi suggested. “Get off the main road again and find somewhere that looks dry enough.” She tilted her eyes skyward, peering through the break in the trees. “It looks like it’ll be clear night, so we don’t have to worry about rain.”
They hiked for one more hour and then did as Vi suggested, breaking off the main road and finding a space between several trees where they could set up camp. Vi ignited a fire using juth starys, yet again, her Lightspinning didn’t seem to summon the morphs. As night fell they split some of their hard baked bread.
“I’d love to get my hands on some more of the crackers Sarphos gave us,” Vi said through her food.
“The ones he magicked to fill an empty stomach?” Taavin clarified and Vi nodded. “That’d be nice.”
“Who’s Sarphos?” Deneya asked. “And what’s this about magic crackers?”
“Sarphos is a morphi we met the last time we were here.” Vi chewed thoughtfully. “He was the younger brother of one of the people we’re looking for now… though I have no idea if he’ll be around yet.” It should feel stranger to think about someone not being born, Vi thought to herself. But it had become quite normal. “He could use the magic of the shift to make a cracker that filled you up as if you’d eaten a meal. That power is one of the reasons why I think they could use the shift to make a fake crystal crown.”
“I don’t want any shift crackers.” Deneya scrunched her nose. “But I would give my sword arm right about now though for some rovash.”
“Rovash?” Vi asked as Taavin made a satisfied noise.
“I’d almost forgotten,” he said wistfully. “I only got to eat it on high holy days.” Taavin looked to her. “Rovash is a celebratory roast—giant spotted pheasant stuffed with dates, figs, and bread left over from the temples’ holy celebrations.”
“Cookeries would bake it slow over root vegetables.” Deneya sighed wistfully. “If I’d known it’d be so long until I had it again, I would’ve bought a whole bird just for myself.”
“You would’ve exploded,” Taavin said with a small smile.
“Death by rovash would be an honor.” Deneya grinned in return.
“Maybe we can all get some together… when this is all over,” Vi said almost timidly, the thoughts from earlier still exercising their strong hold. Her companions fell quiet.
“What happens, when this is over?” Deneya asked delicately. None of them had ever discussed the topic aloud. It felt taboo. Like if they even uttered anything about the world being saved, it wouldn’t come to pass. “You put Yargen back together with all her pieces like some divine puzzle and she beats Raspian into submission, heralding a new Age of Light. There’s much rejoicing and a saved world … Then what happens?”
Vi looked to Taavin. He gave a tiny shrug. “Your guess is as good as ours. We’ve never made it that far before… never made it this far, even.” He finished the last bite of his meal and looked at his hand, flexing his fingers. She wondered if he, too, was imagining the crystal skeleton within him that held his consciousness and gave him life.
“We should go to bed,” Vi suggested abruptly. “Got a long day ahead tomorrow.”
“Of what? More wandering?” Deneya said smartly, stretching out on the leaves they’d piled up as pallets.
“If that’s what it takes.”
“Would you like to sleep?” Taavin asked, touching her arm lightly and summoning her attention to him alone. “I can take first watch.”
“No, you go ahead, I don’t mind. You sleep less than the rest of us anyway.” Vi smiled. He looked surprised, as if he hadn’t realized she’d noticed. His expression softened a corner of her heart.
How could I not notice? she wanted to ask. She noticed, just as she noticed he ate less than the rest of them but could go the longest without tiring. She’d cataloged every little thing about him—from the way he ran his hands through his hair when he was deep in thought, to how he tapped his foot when he drank alcohol. She’d visually traced his figure like lines of a map so that she’d never forget how to get him back again if the world took him from her.
“All right, wake me if you feel tired.”
“I will.” Vi squeezed his hand and leaned in to plant a soft goodnight kiss on his mouth.
He settled down on his palette and held her gaze for a good while. They stared at each other through the firelight, as though communicating telepathically. Though Vi was left wondering what, exactly, he was thinking.
And when his eyes closed, she was left with nothing to do but peer into the dark void of the forest around them.
The night passed uneventfully. Vi sat with her back against a tree, scanning the woods. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually her eyelids began to feel heavy. They dipped closed, staying shut for a little longer each time.
A rustling sound came from behind her and Vi’s eyes shot open.
She stood, whirling in place to find herself face to face with a spear pointed at her throat. Behind the blade were the steely gray eyes of a young girl with two golden buns behind each of her ears.
“State your business, Lightspinners,” she demanded. Skeptical, forceful, though not outright brutal. This was not the same harshness that Arwin had greeted her with in Vi’s world.
Deneya and Taavin were on their feet, but Vi held out a hand, both silencing them and stopping their movements. She leveled her eyes with the girl and gave her a smile.
“Hello, Arwin.” Arwin’s eyes went wide at Vi’s use of her name. Then they narrowed as she thrust the spear forward threateningly. The girl opened her mouth to no doubt question, but Vi spoke over her. “Please take us to your father.
We have business with King Noct.”
* * *
Vi was fairly certain that she and Noct were the only comfortable people in the throne room.
Arwin had been eying them sideways since they first met and she reluctantly agreed to take them to the Twilight Kingdom. Taavin was understandably uncomfortable in this place. Even if he knew this was a different Twilight Kingdom than the one they had last interacted with, it was hard to forget old conditioning. Deneya looked fascinated, but was very clearly aware that she was an outsider in this world of glittering twilight.
But Vi stood easily. She’d been here before, in this very room, standing in front of this very man. Though he’d admittedly looked somewhat older then. The beard had been thinner in her world. That must be what it was.
This time there were no children playing in the courtyard to consume his attention. He’d stood when they entered and regarded them as a monarch would. Then, he settled himself on the throne.
“It is not common for Lightspinners to come demanding me.” He shifted. “Are you from the Queen?”
“No, we’re not,” Vi said, not so much as glancing at Deneya. The king didn’t need to know there was a member of the Order of Shadows in his throne room. Deneya’s business wasn’t to spy on the Twilight Kingdom, anyway. “We’ve come from the Dark Isle.”
“The Dark Isle?” Noct tilted his head to the side. “Two elfin and a human, all Lightspinners, from the Dark Isle?”
Vi had anticipated this skepticism. She’d encountered it before. But this time she knew exactly how to handle it.
“I am Yargen’s Champion,” Vi said confidently. “I have come from very far to collect that which is my birthright. I know that, deep within your palace, you hold a crystal scythe. It was bestowed on your family to keep safe until the Champion came seeking it.”
“H-how?” Arwin stuttered, taking a step back.
“How, indeed.” Noct smiled, his eyes shining. “How could you have come across that information?”
“I told you, I am the Champion.” Vi put on the air of mystery she used when giving advice or fortune to those on the Dark Isle. Her voice was a deep whisper, her words shrouded in an air of knowing beyond that which mortal minds could comprehend. At least, that was how she hoped it sounded. “I have seen across time and space. I know Yargen’s will and have heard her voice. I have witnessed the red lightning that heralds the end of days. Before this world is torn asunder, you must give me what I seek.”
“All very impressive.” Noct was unfazed. It’d take more than some lofty words to impress those on Meru, who were accustomed to more fantastical magics existing around them. “But your long-eared friends here could’ve known the truth from ages ago and told you.”
“Elfin live long lives, but not that long,” Taavin countered for her. “Give her the scythe and you will see that she speaks true.”
Noct still looked unconvinced.
Vi chewed on the inside of her cheek, keeping her expression passive. In her time, the tears in the shift had been enough to convince Noct that she wielded a mighty power. If he didn’t give her the scythe, what proof could she offer him of her abilities?
Luckily, the scythe wasn’t her only mission here. There were other reasons Vi had sought out the Twilight Kingdom. One of them might just serve her now.
“Your highness, may we speak in private?”
“I will not leave your side with these strangers, Father,” Arwin said firmly.
Noct was clearly intrigued by the request. “Approach me, and whisper what you have to say in my ear.”
Vi ascended the dais and crossed to the throne. She leaned forward, cupping her lips around the king’s ear. Arwin inched closer, her hands on her spear, ready to attack. Vi didn’t point out how foolish the girl’s protectiveness was. If Vi had wanted to kill Noct, he’d already be dead. Instead, she whispered.
“Your daughter Arwin favors a boy named Fallor—or will soon, if she does not already. But he will betray the trust of your family. He will gain and take the knowledge of your sacred shift to Adela. They might have already gotten to the boy. Keep us here and I will use my knowledge as Champion to protect your daughter and your throne.”
Vi straightened away, Noct watching her carefully. She took two steps backward, bowed once more, and stepped off the dais to wait for his verdict.
The king stroked his beard, eyes settling on his daughter for a long moment.
“We shall go to the scythe now, and see if your words are true about your powers. If you are who you say, I will trust your other claims, and you and your companions will have rooms in the guest wing to stay in for as long as I see fit to host you,” he said finally.
Vi bowed once more, a smile creeping onto her face as she did. Her fingertips nearly crackled with the phantom memory of the scythe in her hands.
Chapter Eighteen
Noct led them down a series of halls and a familiar winding stair into a council room that Vi knew all too well.
The walls were stone, with vertical tapestries running from floor-to-ceiling depicting morphi champions standing victorious in battles. Weapons hung between the tapestries, the low light of the glowing stones above the center table gleaming off their polished edges. Taavin inspected one of the hanging pieces.
“Is this the battle of Marthas?” he asked, breaking the silence with genuine curiosity.
Noct paused, clearly startled, but a sincere smile spread across his lips. “Why, yes it is.”
“Marthas… when the elfin’ra finally surrendered?” Deneya had joined Taavin at the wall.
“Just so.”
“I didn’t realize there were morphi there.”
“Many don’t.” Noct chuckled, but the sound wasn’t warm or amused. It was sad. “Much of the morphi’s contributions to and alignment with the Kingdom of Meru has been expunged from common memory.”
The battle of Marthas, Vi silently repeated to herself. For a moment, her vision was hazed as what felt like memories played before her eyes. Memories Vi wasn’t supposed to have but found bubbling to the surface all the same.
The elfin’ra gathered on the large island in the watery center of Meru’s great lagoon. She could see the men and women surrounding them as if she’d stood there as well, the queen banishing them off to a distant isle and beseeching Yargen for the strength to seal them away. Vi felt her words as much as heard them—no, she didn’t feel it, someone else within her did.
Help came in the form of the last Champion.
“That’s Arnoch, isn’t it?” Vi said faintly. The attention was now on her. “The warrior depicted,” she clarified.
“It is.” Noct’s smile widened. “Impressive that you know your morphi history. Now, excuse me a moment.” He stepped around the table and disappeared through the door in the back of the room. Arwin lingered, eyes on Vi and hands glued to her spear.
“How did you know that?” Deneya asked.
“Yes, how?” Taavin repeated, much less amused than Deneya.
“I read it in the Archives when I was there, long ago,” Vi lied. She knew she hadn’t read it. But she couldn’t describe the imagery she’d seen. She didn’t even know where it’d come from. Just laying eyes on the carefully stitched picture sparked something in her that wasn’t entirely her own. Luckily, she didn’t have to elaborate further. Noct returned with the scythe, tightly wrapped in familiar purple velvet.
Arwin looked between them, but unlike the last time, the girl wasn’t bold enough to question her father.
The king placed the weapon on the table and undid the knots on the ropes holding the velvet closed. Even knowing what she was about to see, Vi’s heart raced in anticipation. She was ready for the familiar shining crystal, glowing with the power of the gods. It wasn’t until that moment that Vi realized she still carried the loss of the crown with her. She needed to feel a fresh surge of Yargen’s essence in her veins.
Without hesitation, she reached out a hand to the blade.
The
hazy light that surrounded the weapon drifted over her hand and up her arm, before fading completely into her skin. The magic consumed her vision as though a tide of power was rising from within. Vi drew on it further, allowing herself to drown in this now familiar sensation.
The world came back into focus washed in darkness. She recognized the feeling of standing in another place and time. The future sight hadn’t entirely been expected, but she welcomed it; Vi wasted no time in looking at her surroundings. She was on a cliff-side, a quaint town in the distance.
She squinted, looking at the town, specifically. Mosant? Her eyes fell on what was certainly the bell tower for the goddess’s chapel there.
Vi turned her head to her right, where people stood. As usual, she couldn’t hear what was being said. A group on horseback were mounted before a windmill. Vi watched as an old woman stepped out to greet them and was rewarded with a sword through her eye.
Vi’s attention shifted to the vaguely familiar, mustachioed man holding the sword.
The world continued to oscillate in and out of focus. The next person to gain clarity was a young woman, hunched over in her saddle. The men were untying ropes around her and they hoisted her down. Her head was hung, but Vi didn’t need to see her face. She knew that brown mass of unruly hair anywhere.
The Knights of Jadar had Vhalla Yarl in their clutches.
Vi tried to step forward. Moving through the vision was like trying to swim through a thick jelly. Yet she wanted to keep up with the men as they carried Vhalla into the open windmill. Shackles with embedded crystals were around her wrists and she put up no fight as she was thrown onto sacks of grain.
The door closed behind them, and ended what limited view Vi had been given.
No one said anything. But when Vi’s consciousness returned to the Twilight Kingdom, just the breathing of her companions seemed loud.
“What did she do?” Arwin squeaked. Vi lowered her gaze to the pool of velvet on the table. A pile of obsidian shards and black dust was cradled in its luxe embrace. “She just touched it, and… now it’s gone.” Arwin inched closer to her father. The heel of her spear tapped on the floor with her shaking hand.