by Kova, Elise
“Good, because I’m tired and desperately want to go to bed and find out this was all a bad dream.” Deneya yawned for emphasis. “When I see you tomorrow, it should go without saying, none of this happened.” Vi locked eyes with the woman and gave a small nod. Deneya returned it, stepped backward, and uttered, “Wein.”
A glyph shot out from her midsection. Splitting into two, one rose vertically to the crown of her head and the other dropped to her feet. The two circles of light faded as they swirled around Deneya, as though they were wrapping her up in a magic casement. Power glittered across her skin as she stepped back through Fiera’s flames unharmed.
“Wein,” Vi repeated thoughtfully. Just like Taavin’s word, uncose, it did nothing for her.
“She received that word from Yargen before she came to the Dark Isle. It acts like a personal shield from attack. It’s most like what you know as Groundbreakers’ stone skin,” Taavin said factually, as though it were obvious.
“If you know so much, why didn’t you warn me she was coming?” Vi rounded on him.
“I didn’t think it’d happen so soon.” He lifted up his hands defensively. “Perhaps it’s your recklessness that’s speeding things up. Recklessness… like summoning me to appear before her.”
Vi cursed under her breath, working to calm the spark crackling up her spine. “I didn’t know what else to do. And when I figured out she was from Meru, I just thought…” Vi shook her head, feeling the spark abate. “I don’t know what I thought.”
“I’m sorry for snapping, too.” Taavin heard the apology in her tone. His hands clasped over her shoulders. “This is exactly what I’m trying to protect you from—what I was telling you earlier. There is variance. Very few things are perfectly identical in any of these recreated worlds. Even though there are stones in the river, the little leaves bob and sway along the water’s currents—each acting according to its own will.”
“Even so, you could’ve told me it was going to happen eventually. You could’ve prepared me so I wasn’t caught off-guard.”
“Foremost, I didn’t think it’d happen for weeks yet. And truly, I didn’t see how it would have helped you any. I couldn’t give you specifics even if I wanted to. Maybe you would’ve had this confrontation in a council room after everyone had dispersed. Or on a training field. Or in a hall one night on your way here.” He spoke with such certainty that Vi had no doubt all of those things had, at some point, happened. “All I would’ve accomplished by telling you would have been putting you on edge nearly all the time.”
“I want to know,” Vi insisted. “You want to know what I do in this timeline? I need to know what I’ve done.”
“I don’t want you to act rashly.” He smiled tenderly. But Vi only felt more frustrated. “Take things slowly. We’ll figure out the best way to take the sword when the time is right.”
When would the time be right: before or after Fiera’s death?
Vi kept the question to herself. She didn’t want to worry him more. And there was only so much she could accomplish in one night. It had been a long few days, and she was very tired.
“Very well,” Vi agreed finally. “I trust you.”
“And I trust you.” He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. It was little more than the ghost of warmth. “Now, go rest. I can feel your exhaustion.”
Vi nodded and released the glyphs.
“Do you trust me?” she whispered to the empty air. If he trusted her, he would arm her with information. But all Vi was getting were crumbs and a heavy dose of skepticism from him; should he give her anything more, she’d take it and run head-first into the end of the world.
Chapter Thirteen
“You must set them free.” Fiera slammed an open palm against the council table. “It has been long enough.”
“Weeks, it has been weeks,” Tiberus growled. His patience was visibly running thin, the man’s hair a mess from constantly raking his fingers through it. “It’s not nearly enough time to let loose those who called not only for my death, but the death of my men—and perhaps now the death of you, since you are to be my wife.”
“They are my soldiers and would never harm me,” Fiera insisted.
“Like those men on the streets would never harm you?” He arched his eyebrows.
“Those were riff-raff, not my men.” Fiera leaned forward. “All you are doing, Tiberus, is risking gratitude turning into resentment.”
Vi volleyed her attention between the two most powerful people on the continent. Technically, Tiberus’s say was the only one that mattered. But he deferred to Fiera in a far greater way than an Emperor should. She still didn’t know what Fiera felt for the man. But Tiberus’s feelings were clear enough in his actions.
Zira leaned over, whispering, “Do you think they’d notice if we just walked out?”
“Be my guest and risk it if you’d like,” Vi mumbled.
The whole council had been confined for at least a half hour as the debate raged on. Everyone looked uncomfortable.
Vi caught Deneya’s eyes across the table, but the woman glanced at her for only a second. The fact that it had been a week and she had yet to say anything to Vi, or act out of the ordinary, was a testament to her training from Queen Lumeria.
“You’re being utterly unreasonable.” Fiera threw up her hands. “You were the one who set out to conquer. You can’t expect the rest of the continent to roll over like Cyven.”
“I do not expect the West to handle their change in rulership with the same grace as the East.” It was a low jab from Tiberus, one that made Lord Twintle’s head turn and eyes narrow.
Vi closed her eyes and took in a slow breath. She had to work to prevent it from coming out as a heavy sigh. Fiera was all fire and passion, no doubt playing up those traits because of how easily they got under Tiberus’s skin. Usually, this enabled her to push him in the direction she wanted him to go.
“May I propose a compromise?” Vi asked, allowing the remnants of her years as a royal to seep back into her tone. She couldn’t tolerate this a moment longer.
The Emperor appeared startled she’d spoken up, but Fiera gave her a trusting smile and said, “I’d love to hear it.”
“Thank you.” Vi stood. “Your graces, I think I—we all—understand your respective wishes. My proposal is this: release the confined soldiers in several rounds in the coming weeks. The first round would be soldiers willing to put their skills to use and serve in their new Empire’s army. Also in that round would be the sons and daughters of any nobility.”
She gave a look to Twintle, remembering Luke, who was still trapped in the encampment.
“The next round would be those who do not wish to fight, but have a valuable trade skill. Put them to work and keep their hands and minds busy with rebuilding their city, so they do not think to turn against you.
“The final round would be those remaining.” Vi thought a moment, running the suggestion over a final time in her head. “If any have nefarious intentions, they will likely show their colors as they lose patience.”
Vi finished and glanced between Fiera and the Emperor. The former had gone stony faced and Vi couldn’t discern if the suggestion was pleasing or upsetting. The Emperor on the other hand was far more transparent with his emotions, giving Vi hope when he finally said, “Your new knight speaks wisely.”
“Thank you, your grace.” Vi bowed her head and sat.
“What do you say, my love?”
“It’s a fair suggestion,” Fiera finally relented. “A week between each round?”
“A month,” Tiberus fired back.
“Two weeks.” Fiera’s mouth quirked into a tiny grin. Fondness alighted in her eyes, brought out by the banter.
“Very well.” Tiberus chuckled. “Two weeks, and let none claim that Tiberus Solaris does not bend before his bride.” He stepped away from the table and everyone stood on cue. “Now, may I steal that bride for a drink before dinner?”
The royals depar
ted, and everyone in the room seemed to immediately sit straighter, a weight lifted.
“About time.” Twintle gathered his papers, shoving them unceremoniously into his folio. “Our loyal Westerners have rotted in their prisons long enough.”
“They have been kept comfortable,” Zira said firmly.
Vi remembered her time in the “containment shelter” and how quickly the once-glorious manor house devolved into squalor when crammed with soldiers who didn’t have proper access to something as simple as a bath. She wasn’t sure if comfortable was the right word.
“Comfortable? You think confinement is comfortable?” Twintle grumbled. “I cannot wait to hear just how comfortable my son has been these past weeks when he is back in his home where he belongs.”
“Luke comes from good stock. He’ll be—”
“Good day to you all,” Twintle cut Zira off curtly, striding out of the room without a backward glance.
The other councilors gathered their things quietly, the tension in the air slowing their movements to a glacial pace.
“What a mess,” Zira mumbled.
“Empire building is rarely tidy.” Vi stood. “At least we found an acceptable solution.”
“One can only hope they both think it’s acceptable come morning.”
“What about Kahrin? Will she be out with Luke?”
“No, she’ll likely get out with the tradesmen. She’s the daughter of a miner to the north of Norin and became a Knight seeking glory. I think she’s had enough of fighting for one lifetime.” Vi could only hope that was true. The fewer angry Knights of Jadar she had to contend with, the better. Zira sighed. “I really do hope this is the last of it. Fiera needs to focus on planning her wedding… it’s coming up soon.”
“Yullia,” Deneya interrupted them. “May I borrow you for a word in my office?”
“Certainly.”
“This way.” Deneya started out the room. Vi shrugged at Zira as if she had no idea what this could be about, then followed the minister down the hall and into a closet-like office. She closed the door behind them, locked it, grabbed Vi’s hand, and uttered, “Durroe sallvas tempre.”
A glyph formed between their locked palms.
“You certainly have my attention.” Vi looked between their hands and Deneya’s face.
“I didn’t want to risk anyone else overhearing.” Deneya’s grip was firm and unflinching. “I’ve been thinking about what you said and I must ask, what is your goal here?”
“I already told you, I—”
“Yes, agent of Yargen or some such.” Deneya shook her head. “What are your goals as that agent—Champion, rather—acting on behalf of Yargen? What are you hoping to achieve?”
“To protect—”
Deneya pressed her free palm to her forehead and sighed. When she spoke again, it was with the same tone Vi would use to explain a difficult concept to a child. “I understand all that. You’re here on behalf of Yargen, protecting the sword. Our goals really aren’t that different.”
“I doubt they would be,” Vi said cautiously.
“If you’re truly are here on behalf of the Goddess, it’s my duty to assist you. Tell me how I can do that.”
“Information,” Vi said after a moment. “You’ve been ingrained in this world longer than I have. I need information on people, specifically the Knights of Jadar and those associated with them before the fall of Mhashan. They’ve already begun moving against the sword.”
Deneya thought about this, humming softly. Then, as if her mental tally came up with the same answer Vi already knew, she gave a nod. “They haven’t been too pleased with Fiera’s engagement.”
“If their attack on the street is any indication.”
“That’s only the start of the whispers I’ve heard.”
“Oh?”
“Information gathering is part of my duty to the queen. I go out at night and sit in taverns. Most don’t recognize me, so I hear murmurs of the citizenry. Some seem content—they’re happy the war is over. But others are more in line with the thinking of the old king. They’d rather burn than bend the knee. They see Fiera doing so as the ultimate betrayal.”
“Foolish…” Vi mumbled. They couldn’t see, or were willfully ignoring, that Fiera’s engagement was likely what saved them all. And was possibly the ultimate sacrifice on her part—to be married to a man who had conquered her land for the sake of her people.
“I’m sure the rumors will get worse when the soldiers are set free. A lot of the Knights are still in there. I’ll work on procuring the full roster of names for you.”
“Thank you,” Vi managed, somewhat surprised by the sudden kindness. “Let me know when you have it.” Vi moved to leave, but Deneya held her hand firmly, almost yanking her back.
“Be careful,” Deneya said solemnly. “Getting close to the royal family without having eyes on me took me years. You’ve ascended swiftly and publicly… They’re already whispering about you.”
“I’m not worried,” Vi lied. In fact, she was suddenly very worried. This whole time her eyes had been on Fiera, at the expense of noticing who had their eyes on her. “I have this under control.”
* * *
Vi hefted the Sword of Jadar overhead and brought it down in a vertical slice. She slid her feet to the side, dancing around an unseen opponent, drawing the blade in a side slash. She stepped back, shifted her grip, and thrust forward into a lunge. Her movements were slow and deliberate, more meditation than combat.
Soon enough, Deneya would arrive to go over the list of Knights she’d procured. And before then, Vi needed to speak with Taavin.
She went to put the blade on the table, pausing. The vision of the Champion splitting the staff remained ever-present in her mind. How had he known how to do that? Vi tried to push the question from her mind, uttering, “Narro hath hoolo.”
“You’re back here again.” Taavin looked around.
“Yes. I’ve been doing just as you asked for the past two months and laying low.” She stared at the sheathed weapon on the wall. Despite herself, the memories of the last Champion still lingered. “Taavin… do you think there’s a way to manipulate the crystal?”
“Why do you ask?”
“My last vision… the last Champion split the staff. Do you think I could split the sword?”
“We’re trying to preserve Yargen’s power, not split it,” he needlessly reminded.
“What if—”
They were interrupted by Deneya emerging through the flames at the entrance to the small room. The woman’s bright blue and purple-rimmed eyes darted between them.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“It’s all right. Tell me what you’ve found?”
“You’re not going to like it.” Deneya frowned. “The Knights of Jadar are picking right back up where they left off. Nearly all of them.”
“How so?”
“They’ve been gathering at Twintle’s house at odd hours.”
“When?”
“In secret, at night… I’ve reason to believe they’re meeting right now.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Vi started for the flames. “We should go and see what they’re—”
Taavin stopped her by grabbing her hand with his ghostly grip. Vi swung around to face him. Her heart began to beat faster, already knowing what he was about to say.
“No.”
“But—”
“No,” Taavin said more firmly. “Our goal is not the Knights of Jadar.”
“The Knights of Jadar are trying to take the sword. They’re likely plotting it right now. Knowing what they’re scheming will only help us.”
“She has a point,” Deneya muttered, and Vi liked her that much more for it.
“You know why you can’t.” Taavin leveled her a look that told Vi everything.
She couldn’t, because her rebirth wasn’t yet assured. She hadn’t given the watch to Vhalla Yarl yet. So there was no guarantee of a new Vi Solaris, a new Ch
ampion, if she failed.
If she failed.
“What if this is what I need to do for us to succeed, and I’m not, because we’re being so cautious?” Her words were softer than she expected, nearly pleading.
“What we need to do to succeed is keep the sword safe.”
“And if we know what the Knights are doing, then—”
“I don’t want to see you risking your life. I can’t live with that knowledge,” he added, softer. Vi hated his tenderness and how it quelled her frustrated anger.
“Hello.” Deneya waved, drawing both of their attention. “Yes, hi, I’m still here.” She smiled broadly. “How about this? If you can’t go for… whatever reasons the Voice has, I’ll go in your stead? I’ll just keep watching them as I have.”
“A fine suggestion,” Taavin said. He had yet to release Vi’s hand.
Both eyes were on her. Vi bit the insides of her cheeks, but finally said, “Fine, go now… and let me know what happens.”
“They’ll be none the wiser, I promise! Wein!” Deneya dashed through the flames, gone as quickly as she’d come.
Vi stared at the fire, her hand still in Taavin’s. When he finally released it, it fell limply at her side.
“What is my purpose here?” she whispered.
“To protect the Crystal Caverns.”
“Is it?” Vi spun, rounding on him. Fire was alive in her, burning down her arms, cracking into life around her knuckles. “Or am I just a vessel shepherding us into another repeat of the world’s end?”
“Of course not.”
“Then you must let me act. The Knights of Jadar are gaining strength while I help Fiera pick out flowers for the Cathedral of the Sun and minstrels for the reception. They are going to act against my family for generations. They will kill her if I don’t stop them.”
“Your only focus should be the sword,” Taavin reminded her gravely. “What happens to everyone else—Fiera, Zira, Tiberus—is not your concern.”
“They are my family!”
“Your family is gone and will never come back!”
