by Kova, Elise
“I have a feeling you’d know if she wasn’t.”
“How?” Vi opened her eyes, looking up at the man hovering over her.
He still had the crescent-shaped scar on his cheek—a mark of his old life. All of Vi’s scars had vanished when she had been reborn in this new age. Her body was unblemished in its remade form. Some part of her envied the man for retaining his marks. Her scars had been like war medals, showing all she had survived.
“I just do.” Taavin shrugged.
“Helpful.” Vi allowed her gaze to go unfocused as her eyelids dipped closed once more.
“When are you going to reunite with her and the sword, again?”
“Once I’m confident Fiera is safe. Likely after my father is born.” The statement had an odd ring to it, since Vi knew the Aldrik who would be born wasn’t really her father—her real father was lost with an old world. Her mind knew the truth, but her emotions were still catching up. “Fiera seems ready to pop any day now. Shortly after she gives birth, there will be a blessing on the child. I’ve already asked Fiera to start letting it slip around servants that the Sword of Jadar has gone missing and lament over how it won’t be present for the blessing.”
“You intend to drive the Knights from the city, and away from Fiera, by letting them know the sword is elsewhere.”
“That’s my hope.”
“And you think the servants can get word back to the Knights?”
Vi bobbed her head yes. If Deneya was to be believed, word was getting out of the castle somehow. The most obvious break in the chain would be a servant, someone easily overlooked by most nobles.
“Everything just has to stay according to—” Vi was interrupted by a knock on her door.
“Who’s that?” Taavin whispered.
“I don’t know,” Vi mumbled. “Stay out of sight. I’ll release the glyphs if someone’s about to come in.”
He nodded, stepping into a corner of her bedroom as Vi side-stepped through the sliding screens into her sitting area. She opened the door to find an unfamiliar servant waiting there, a letter rested on a silver tray.
“Apologies for bothering you. A courier arrived with this and said it was of supreme importance.”
“What type of courier?” Vi asked, picking up the letter. It was folded into thirds, a wax blob holding it closed. There was no insignia to indicate who it might be from.
“A city courier. I have no other information, m’lady.” The young man bowed. “Good evening.”
“Good evening,” Vi replied before locking the door behind him.
“A letter?” Taavin asked as he emerged.
“Yes, and a strange one at that. It’s sealed, but there’s no crest.” Vi flipped it over. “Yullia” was scribbled on the front with the words “imperial guard” underneath. She pressed on the folds, popping the letter open like an eye. Like this, she could make out the words inside. “Not sealed well.” Vi frowned, thinking of Jayme reading her letters.
“‘I require you for a matter of grave importance. Meet me at the Hog and Bone Inn, room fourteen. Fiarum evantes,’” she read aloud.
“That’s it?” Taavin moved to her side, reading over her shoulder, confirming the answer to his question. “Speaking of suspicious things…”
Vi set the letter down on her chair, intentionally leaving it where it could be found by someone looking for her if something went awry. She grabbed a cloak from her closet and strapped a sword onto her hip.
“Wait, you can’t be thinking of going.” Taavin grabbed her wrist.
“Of course I am.”
“What if it’s a trap by the Knights?”
“Then I’ll kill them all and show them I’m not one to be trifled with. Then they’ll know their best course of action is to clear out of this city,” Vi said with all the vitriol she felt for the group.
“Think about this logically…”
“I am.”
“No, you’re acting on emotion and indulging your vendetta. You’re reaching for too much, Vi. First saving everyone, now eradicating the Knights of Jadar. Some things are meant to happen, and preventing them will be met with failure at best, or at worst…”
“At worst?” Vi prodded when he trailed off.
“At worst you could create a world where you’re not born again. Where there is no Vi Solaris.”
“If everyone I love lives long and healthy lives in that world, then so be it.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do.” Ever since her vision at the docks, Vi had come to terms with the idea of not existing herself if it meant the world was safe. If Vhalla, Aldrik, and Romulin lived on, even if they weren’t really her family, it would be enough for her.
“And if you fail in this timeline and there is no new Vi—no Champion—they’ll all be condemned to death by Raspian’s blight.”
Vi bit the insides of her cheeks and scowled at the door. “I know all this. I’ll be careful, I promise.”
“Vi—”
She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Taavin vanished, though his words lingered. They clung to her like he had, holding her in place.
Was he right? Was she overreaching?
Vi shook her head and started forward, out her door, down the hall, and out of the castle. She had everything under control. She was the one with all the power, pulling the strings.
She had nothing to fear.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Vi kept her hood up and her head down all the way to the Hog and Bone Inn. The inn wasn’t far from the main entrance of the city, a fairly straight shot from the castle. But Vi took a longer route. She wandered down side streets and sprinted through alleyways.
She glanced over her shoulders and remained as alert as possible. But the night was quiet, and she arrived at the quaint inn without issue.
The building was four stories tall, long but not particularly wide. Its storefront was well lit with two iron lanterns and she could hear the sounds of mugs clanking and music from the bar within. Not wanting to raise suspicion by lingering, Vi entered and headed directly for a back hallway.
It looked like rooms one through ten were on the first floor, so Vi proceeded to the second. Sure enough, the first room she crossed had the number eleven painted on the door. Halfway down the hall was fourteen.
Vi stood outside the door, contemplating the latch for a moment. She could mask her face with durroe, see who it was first and then come back as Yullia. She could force entry and catch them flat-footed and off-guard.
Balling her hand into a fist, Vi went for the simple and most direct approach—she knocked, and held her breath as the door cracked open.
Her eyes met a familiar dark pair. They were framed by a short-cut fringe and hair that didn’t extend past the ears. Even though the woman’s clothes were different, Vi recognized her with ease. That meant anyone else could too.
“What in the Mother’s name are you doing here?” Vi half-whispered, half-snarled. Then looked around quickly to make sure the hall was still empty. Thankfully, it was.
Zira opened the door slightly wider, and Vi took the invitation, allowing herself in. The swordswoman didn’t speak until the door was closed once more and locked. “I had to come and warn you.”
“Warn me?” Vi did a quick sweep of the room. A bed against the wall to the right, a chamber pot in the corner to the left, a dresser… the lack of things made the sword’s presence all the more noticeable. “You brought the sword back? You even made a stand for it?” Vi balked at the little wooden stand, emblazoned with a silver phoenix.
“It felt right to give it a place of honor, even when I was on the road.”
“I told you not to let anyone know you even had it.” Vi spun, advancing on the woman. The conspicuous stand was the least of her worries. “Are you mad?”
“I had to bring it with me. I wasn’t about to entrust it to anyone else,” Zira said, defensive, holding her ground as Vi intruded on her personal space.
“
Of course not, because you were supposed to take it East. By now you should’ve been past the Crossroads, by now it should’ve been long free of their reach.” Vi wanted to scream. She’d never been so angry. She never expected someone to make her feel more vicious than Jayme had.
But here they were.
“I am only here one night,” Zira said calmly, levelly, as though speaking to Raylynn during a tantrum. “Only one night to warn you.”
“You leave now.”
“Then let me say what I came to say. I’m here anyway.”
“Very well. Speak.”
“I did as you said—I went to the Nameless Company and waited. Eventually, word of my ‘death’ arrived back to me. I left the Nameless Company and traveled on the road through the deep Waste, places where the Knights of Jadar are strong. There, I learned that they’re planning an attack on the castle with forces they’ve gathered from Adela. They say they have powers beyond what we can imagine. Powers of the Pirate Queen and—”
Vi held up a hand for silence. She took several deep breaths, more like panting, to prevent herself from shouting. Her plans… all her careful plans… were coming undone because of one woman’s foolish honor and ill-thought decision.
“I know about the plan to work with Adela,” Vi said, dangerously composed.
“You do?” Zira seemed honestly surprised. “They were speaking as though it was just coming together, as though—”
“Why do you think I sent you away?” Vi gripped the woman by the collar. Zira’s hands flew up, grabbing Vi’s wrists so hard the bones popped. But Vi continued to cling through the pain. “What do you think prompted the sudden urgency?”
“Unhand me,” Zira commanded, deadly soft.
Vi obliged, but only reluctantly. She spun away before she really did try to throttle the woman. Vi ran a hand over her hair, smoothing away the pieces that had escaped the taut braid she’d woven through and around a knotted bun.
“All right, listen.” Vi looked back to Zira. “We can still fix this. You take the sword and go now, tonight. It isn’t safe in this city.” Especially not with Twintle on the move. “Go back to the Nameless Company once more, wait just a week or two to make sure no one is following you, then continue on.”
“And you’ll still meet me in Cyven?”
“Yes. I’ll find the sword wherever you are, have no doubt about that.” Even now, it called to her. Perhaps it was all the work Vi had been doing to further explore and manipulate Yargen’s magic. But she felt it even more keenly than before—even with it wrapped tightly in layers of leather, even without touching it. “I’ll leave now. Wait just a little, to let anyone following me do so, then you slip out after.”
“All right.” Zira nodded curtly. “Yullia, I was only trying to—”
“I know.” Vi met her eyes. “I know you were trying to protect our Empress. But you must have faith and believe me when I say that protecting Fiera is my current, sole goal. All of this is for her, and her child.”
“Very well. I’ll trust you, and meet you in the East.”
“Good.”
Without another word, Vi stormed out of the room. She barely resisted slamming the door behind her to punctuate the conversation. She knew she’d acted rashly. She understood Zira’s motivations. She’d apologize later. Right now, she was seeing red, and sparks were crackling against her hands. Her fingers were clenched so tightly they hurt. But Vi was afraid that if she unraveled them, her spark would get loose and burn the whole place down.
Vi emerged into the cool desert air and gulped it down like a tonic that would soothe the flames raging within her. She walked several paces into the street and stopped. Tilting her head back, Vi looked at the stars above and tried to relax the tension throughout her body.
A familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. “Are you all right?”
She didn’t believe for a second that he or his smug grin actually cared about her. Luke strolled out from the inn. Had he been in the bar when she’d entered? Vi struggled to remember.
“What do you want?” Vi asked.
“Is that any way to address a lord?” He arched his eyebrows. “I think not. It’s odd to see you in this area of town, at this time of night.”
“I didn’t notice you paid such close attention to my comings and goings,” Vi said flatly.
“I think people notice what you do a lot more than you give them credit for.”
“I’m flattered.” Vi started back toward the castle. She needed to get Luke away from the inn before Zira left.
“I’m glad I could flatter you. I do hope you have a good night, Yullia. I’ll see you at tomorrow’s council meeting. I can’t wait for Euclan’s report. The Knights of Jadar are becoming so infamous, next we’ll hear about them killing ghosts.”
Vi stopped dead in her tracks. She was so focused on her general annoyance with Luke, so overwhelmed with her hatred, that Vi didn’t realize what he had been doing—stalling. She hadn’t asked the right questions out the gate. Like, why was he there at this time of night? Or, had he followed her?
Her stomach went sour. Without another second’s hesitation, Vi sprinted back into the Hog and Bone.
The bar downstairs was as cheerful as it had been when she’d left. Though three patrons who had been hunched around the corner of the bar were now gone. The hairs on the back of her neck lifted upright.
No, no, no, her mind repeated over and over.
Movement at the very back caught her eye; in the alleyway behind the inn, the flutter of a cloak rippled in the dark before the door snapped shut.
Vi dashed out the back door and into the dingy alley. Darkness clung like grime in all the corners. Two men and one woman were arguing about thirty paces away.
“… payment and then you’ll have it.”
“Give it to me now,” the man on the right snarled.
Vi didn’t have to wonder what “it” was, given that the woman was holding the sword.
“Drop it and I’ll let you live,” Vi lied. She was going to kill them all.
The three turned. Vi’s heart dropped though her stomach at the sight of the woman. Across her forehead in place of eyebrows were three faintly glowing dots.
A morphi. There was a morphi in Norin.
“Juth c—”
“Juth mariy.” The man on the right stopped her magic, shattering it before it could form. He said to the woman, “Go, they know the deal.”
The woman holding the sword leapt into the air and the dark wings of a large crow stretched out between the pulses of magic. The Knight of Jadar stared, slack jawed, as she flew away. He blubbered, trying to make sense of what he had just witnessed—until the other man uttered a quick, “Mysst soto larrk,” and cut his throat then and there.
“They said a ‘strange sorcerer’ was here,” the pirate said with a smile. “I assume you’re one of Lumeria’s?”
Vi didn’t even dignify him with a response. “Juth calt.”
The man crumpled, dead on the spot. Yet another from Meru who hadn’t considered all the creative ways Yargen’s words could be used. She looked upward, scanning the dark sky. But the morphi was already gone with the sword. And that meant—assuming “they could pay” as the pirate had said—it would be in the Knights’ hands before dawn.
Cursing aloud, Vi rushed back inside. She ran past the doors and up to the second floor. The door to Zira’s room was slightly ajar. Vi pushed it open to confirm her worst fears.
Zira lay dead on the ground in a pool of her own blood.
Vi was transfixed by the body, bile rising in back of her throat. It wasn’t for the gruesome way in which she’d died. But for what it meant.
Yargen will come for her life.
You can’t save everyone.
Some things are meant to happen.
Every terrible phrase Taavin had uttered in caution seemed to echo up through Zira’s gaping mouth. The woman’s wide eyes judged every inch of Vi for not heeding them.
The
floorboards slammed into her knees as Vi collapsed. Her shoulders hunched and she dug her nails into the wood, feeling it splinter beneath her nailbeds. She exhaled ragged breaths, somewhere between tears and screams.
Chapter Twenty-Six
She had to move.
She had to pry herself off this hard floor and keep moving. The Knights were likely to investigate, especially when the sword was delivered short of one of their own and one of Adela’s men. But Vi was still barely managing to breathe. Her thoughts were jumbled.
“Narro hath hoolo.” The moment Taavin’s shoes blinked into existence, Vi blurted, “I messed up. I should’ve listened to you, to my father. I messed up.”
His knee met the ground before her, his knuckles hooked her chin, and Taavin slowly raised her face to his. “Tell me how this happened.”
It was a soft command, but a command nonetheless—as if he somehow knew that she needed his tenderness, but she also needed orders. They might be the only thing that kept her moving through the shakes that were still trying to take control of her limbs.
“Zira, she came back, the Knights, Adela’s men—” Vi stopped herself short, her eyes following Taavin’s to the dead body in the room. She restarted, “The letter was from Zira. I came here and met her. She’d learned of the Knights’ plot involving Adela and came back to warn me—for Fiera’s sake. She brought the sword with her.
“I told her to leave… but I was too late. I don’t know if the Knights followed me, or if they’d intercepted the letter and read it. For all I know, one of Adela’s men was the courier who delivered it—she seems to be good at using letters to her benefit.
“But by the time I realized, it was too late.”
“They killed Zira and took the sword,” he finished what she couldn’t say.
“Yes… There was a morphi who flew away—a crow. I’m sure they’ll bring it back to wherever the Knights are waiting and Adela will have her rubies and they’ll have the sword. Assuming she doesn’t just take it for herself.”
Taavin shook his head. He turned away from Zira, stood, paced to one end of the small room and back. He shook his head again, and again before grabbing it and letting out a groan as if he were in pain. “I thought… I really thought this was it. I let myself believe.”
