Sovereign Sacrifice

by Kova, Elise

  “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 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 and 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 e
verywhere. 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.

  Sure enough, both horses were ready. Either he’d done quick work or she’d been distracted for longer than she thought. Vi mounted Midsummer, grabbed Prism’s reins, and calmly started toward the drawbridge.

  A couple nobles and stable hands glanced at her. But Vi kept her pace unhurried, natural. She kept her shoulders back and eyes focused ahead with intensity. She employed everything she’d ever been taught to make herself appear like she was meant to be there, doing what she was meant to be doing.

  “Woah there, hold up, just where are you going?” The stable master ran out, stopping her just when she was about to cross onto the drawbridge. Vi didn’t have to feign her annoyance.

  “I’m taking the Empress’s horse to where he’ll be boarded for the next few months.”

  “Excuse me? Boarded?” The man put his hands on his hips and sighed with a shake of his head. “Why does no one tell me anything?” he mumbled.

  “Things have been a little hectic,” Vi said apologetically. “I only found out last-minute that the Empress has arranged for him to be boarded with a master of horse outside the city. Since she won’t be able to ride for a few months, given her condition, she wants to see Prism exercised and trained around young ones. That way he’ll be in prime condition when she’s ready to ride again with the young prince.”

  Was training horses to be around babies and children a thing? Vi knew it was for noru.

  “Right, right, to Ronaldo I’d bet?” Vi nodded, not having the slightest clue who Ronaldo was. “Makes sense, given he bred the bastard.” Despite insulting the mount, the man patted Prism’s neck fondly. When he spoke next, it was to the horse, “You be good now. None of that biting, you big oaf.”

  The man wandered away, and Vi left the castle and city without issue. Once in the Waste, she rode along the outer edge of Norin and back to the rocky area where the path met the sands. Vi tied off the horses and loaded their saddlebags with her supplies. For the second time, she wandered back through the tunnel, up into the dungeons, and back to the jailer’s room.

  Now, she had nothing to do but wait.

  She paced the floor. She poured out a glass of some suspect liquor to take a sip and then abandoned it. She sat for a few minutes, only to find herself unable to be still. She jumped back to her feet.

  Every minute that passed felt like a red-hot poker stabbing her palms or feet, making her fingers twitch and her steps hasten.

  She couldn’t speed up the process of Fiera’s labor. She’d risk getting in the way, or not being here when they arrived, if she left. She had to trust Deneya and Fiera… and Yargen, that this would all work out.

  Footsteps echoed down the hall and Vi sprinted to the door, sliding to a stop. The young guard she’d dismissed earlier looked at her, startled.

  “S-Sorry to keep you waiting.” He clearly mistook her eagerness.

  “It’s no trouble,” Vi said sweetly. Likely too sweet. Her voice was bordering on once-I-stop-being-kind-you-might-end-up-dead. “Merely eager to hear of the status of our Empress.”

  “That’s what I came down to tell you.” He beamed from ear to ear. “A Ci’Dan is now the crown prince of the Empire.”

  Vi tried to stop a bubble of emotion from shooting up her throat, but she couldn’t, and it burst forth as an oddly suppressed sound of joy. The man who would become the father to a new Vi had been born. Relief flooded her. It engulfed her in a feeling of rightness that she had finally, finally seen something come to pass according to plan.

  “That is truly good news.” Vi beamed. Now, Fiera would be sending the clerics away so she could get much needed rest. Deneya would be swiftly healing her. “I can only imagine the party going on up there.”

  “It’s one for the books, that’s for sure!” He laughed, quickly sobering when he added, “How about you go and enjoy it?”

  “I think you’ll have a far better time than I. Take the rest of the night off. There’s no issues here.”

  “Truly?”

  “Truly.”

  The young guard didn’t waste another second before sprinting back the way he’d come. Vi continued to hover at the entrance, waiting. She waited there until her foot began to tap, until she had to begin pacing again.

  Her watch read just shy of six when Vi heard a single set of footsteps again. She’d have to send him away once more. What excuse would she use this time? Vi was racking her brain when she emerged from the jailer’s room.

  Unnaturally blue eyes met Vi’s own. Nestled in Deneya’s arms with sweat-slicked hair and deep circles under her half-open eyes was Fiera. The woman who could always command a room with her mere existence had never looked so small.

  They stared at each other long enough that Fiera lifted her head off Deneya’s shoulder. Softly, she said, “We should go now. They’ll be searching for me soon, and we have important work to do.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  With the sun rising at their left, they rode hard through the blood-red sands of the Waste.

  Fiera was situated in front of Deneya on Prism. The saddle the horse had been initially strapped with was now attached to Vi’s mount. Apparently, it was easier to ride double on a horse without a saddle—things Vi had never learned growing up in the North with noru and stable masters always attending her.

  The Empress was mostly limp, her head tilted back against Deneya’s shoulder. Luckily, the elfin woman was significantly bigger, so she seemed to be having no trouble holding Fiera astride as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Around both of Deneya’s forearms near the elbow were brightly shining glyphs that mirrored the one around Vi’s wrist.

  Halleth maph. Stint pain. Vi focused on Fiera’s body overall. Deneya focused one spell on her body as a whole as well. And then one specifically on her nether-regions. Layered as such, Fiera should feel nothing. If she did, she was doing an excellent job hiding it. Not even the bounding of the horse seemed to bother her.

  Vi twisted in her saddle, looking behind them. Norin was already a dot far on the horizon. She lifted her free hand and uttered, “Kot Sorre.”

  Kot was a new word Vi was learning on the go, thanks to Deneya’s instruction. She remembered it mentioned in Sehra’s book long ago, but there wasn’t much on it other than it was a word that covered movement. Sorre was to push and sidee was pull.

  The words
burst from her with a surprising amount of force, enough that it had nearly startled her out of her saddle the first time she’d used them. A glyph shone in the distance where Vi directed it, pushing across the dunes. The sand slid over their tracks, covering them.

  They continued throughout most of the day. In her time, the Crystal Caverns had long been struck from the maps. But it hadn’t been hard for her as a child to suss out where they had been based on various stories, accounts, and poorly modified cartographer’s notes. Due south-southeast of Norin was a long stretch of Waste, small, nameless villages dotting the vast sands until they reached the pine forests of the South. Then there would be the town of Mossant. Further south from there were the Caverns.

  It was a general idea, but if Vi’s instincts proved correct they would be on a more direct path than the Knights of Jadar. They would get to the Caverns first. They had to.

  “We need to stop,” Deneya said, calling over wind and sand. “The sun is getting high, and we need to give ourselves and the horses a break.”

  Vi knew that the only person among them who truly needed to rest was Fiera. Deneya’s phrasing was merely kindness.

  “You’re right,” Vi reluctantly agreed. She wanted to push onward until the horses’ legs gave out and collapsed at the opening of the Caverns. But the journey was going to take at least two days, likely three, even at their aggressive pace. They had to rest eventually. But so would the Knights. No one could make the trek in one burst.

  There was nowhere to seek shelter from the sun, so they arbitrarily came to a stop. Vi dismounted first and helped Fiera down; Deneya followed. Fiera had about as much life in her as a limp rag. While Deneya set up a desert tent she’d brilliantly thought to bring, Vi gave Fiera some water from one of the two bladders she’d packed.

  “So much blood,” Vi murmured.

  “You’d be surprised how much blood a woman’s body can hold,” Fiera said between sips. “Though this is natural for after birth—so the clerics would have me believe.”