by Elise Kova
“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.”
“How do you feel?” That was the most important thing in Vi’s mind.
“I don’t feel much of anything,” Fiera said lightly, resting her fingertips on the back of Vi’s hand and drawing their attention to the glyph around her wrist. “Likely because of these. Are they difficult to make and maintain?”
“Not really, not when you get used to them. I imagine it’s much like the wall of flame you kept to protect the sword.” The mere mention of the sword soured and silenced her. If only she’d done something more. She should’ve taken it herself and left Fiera to fate. Her staying had done no one good.
As Vi silently admonished herself, the tent went up and the three huddled in the shade.
“You should rest,” Deneya said to Fiera.
“We all should.” Fiera laid back, trying to make room. Neither Vi nor Deneya moved to take it. Within moments, she was out.
“Relax your halleth,” Deneya instructed Vi. “You should recover some of your magic as well.”
“So should you.”
“Once I kno
w she’s deeply asleep, I will.”
Vi did as she was told and they both watched Fiera. The woman didn’t even stir. Deneya relaxed one of her glyphs as well. Fiera groaned slightly in her sleep, but otherwise, no change.
“I can keep this one.” Deneya held up her arm. “Let her get some good rest. I healed most of her tissue… so what’s taxing her should only be the physical and mental exhaustion.”
Vi looked at Fiera for a long moment and then turned back to Deneya. She didn’t want to see the once strong woman so frail. “Thanks for healing her. I’m apparently shite with mending skin.”
Deneya chuckled. “It’s more of an art, that’s for sure.”
Vi drew her knees up to her chest, pulling them close and resting her chin on them. She stared out at the desert. In the middle of the day, the Waste was blindingly bright.
“I shouldn’t have let her come,” Vi murmured, thinking back to her conversation with Fiera on the birthing bed.
“Why did you? I didn’t question before, but now I’d like to know.”
“She’s studied the crystals, more than I have, with books I didn’t even think to search for.” If there was a next time… She dared think the words. She would be sure to tell Taavin to tell the next Champion to seek out tomes from the Burning Times. Perhaps her instincts to manipulate the crystals were right. She just needed to go in a different direction. “She can make a barrier that I’m hoping will be enough to keep the Knights of Jadar and anyone else out of the Caverns. If no one gets into Raspian’s tomb, no one meddles with it and he’s never set free.”
“She doesn’t look like she’s in a position to do much of anything.” Deneya sighed. “I hope she’ll make it.”
“Me too.” Vi still couldn’t look back at the woman and mother she still felt like she’d condemned to death. Raylynn would grow up without a mother because of her. Now… if Vi wasn’t careful, this world’s Aldrik would as well. Her hand had struck the chords of fate and there was dissonance all around.
“I’ll take first watch and give the horses some water.” Deneya stood. “You should get some sleep.”
Vi didn’t object. She laid back, wiggling as close as she could to Fiera in the small tent without disturbing the woman. They were face to face, and Vi reached out. With just the side of her pinky, she touched Fiera’s open palm. The woman slept on.
I’m sorry, Vi mouthed the words, not daring to say them aloud. She was sorry for so much that Fiera had and would endure. Sorry for what, regardless of what Taavin said was fated, she felt like she was taking from the world—taking from Aldrik.
But if this worked… Perhaps it would all be worth it.
Perhaps Fiera could yet be right.
Before the dawn of the second day, they crossed into the South. Shrub trees grew up from the Waste. Stubborn grasses became pine-carpeted forests as the canopy stretched higher and higher above them.
Vi still felt a rush tingling through her as the first blustery wind caught her cape, sending it flapping behind her.
“Lyndum,” she whispered.
“Pardon?” Deneya asked quietly so as not to disturb the sleeping woman leaned against her. The horses were moving slower now, due to exhaustion and the new terrain. Snowbanks were in the distance, their vast, blinding whiteness as fascinating as it was unnerving to Vi.
They were out of the harshness of the desert, but stepping into a frosty world Vi had never known.
“This was supposed to be my home in another world,” Vi confessed. “But I’ve never come here before.”
“Just who were you in this other world?”
Vi looked to Fiera. The woman’s head was tipped back and her jaw hung open. She slept more than she was awake. But every time she woke she seemed stronger than the last.
“Her granddaughter,” Vi admitted. “Well, the granddaughter of a woman very much like her. I know that’s likely impossible to believe but—”
“I don’t really think so,” Deneya interrupted. “You have the same face.”
Vi chuckled softly. “Everyone told me so. Now I got to see it for myself and… I don’t know, we seem different enough. She’s stronger than I am.”
“Self-doubt doesn’t suit you.”
“Maybe it’s not so much doubt as it is finally being honest with myself about my own limitations?”
Deneya clicked her tongue. “Humility, reasonableness, they’re good traits. Can’t argue, won’t argue. But… I’ve seen a shift in you these past few days. You were so self-assured. Now you seem like you’re doubting each step you take.”
“Failure has a high price, and I’m paying it.” She had some hesitations now, what was the harm in it? “Taavin was right this whole time and I didn’t listen. I might not be able to make up for it now… nonetheless, I’m trying to be more careful.”
“Take care in deciding where to step, so when you do, you’re certain of your path,” Deneya advised. “You keep looking back. Those decisions have been made and the ink in the history books is already dry. Keep your eyes forward.”
Vi nodded, twisting the reins in her fingers. Deneya was right: forward was the only path for them now. Forward into the snowdrifts that stretched across the forest floors from the last vestiges of winter. Forward to the place where every line of fate collided.
“Now, how much longer until we’re at this town you mentioned?”
“Mossant? If we push, we might get there before the day is done.”
“Good, I’d like a bed.”
There wasn’t much conversation for the rest of the day. Each of them was dead tired. The inside of Vi’s thighs ached and her fingers had gone numb. They’d prepared for the Waste, but Vi hadn’t packed appropriately for snow and cold.
In Mossant they restocked and slept at an inn for a night. The horses had time to rest and be fed properly. They were warm and safe. It was the best possible thing for them right before their final push to the Caverns.
The main road in and out of Mossant lead to the Great Imperial Way. That was the road they had come in from. But the road they left on was far less maintained.
It was more of a hunting path. Branches reached out for them, trying to snag on their packs and clothes. The overgrowth was annoying and, to Vi, oddly comforting. Had a group of Knights come trudging through, they would’ve left their mark on the frail branches. The absence of any such tracks meant they were still ahead of the Knights—for now.
That night, they laid eyes on the entrance to the Crystal Caverns. They came to a stop at the edge of a ridge. Switchbacks led down to a valley where Vi could see they curved up and around once more to a narrow cliff.
“So, that’s it, then,” Deneya spoke first. Her breath appeared as a cloud in the fading light of day.
“That’s been the cause of my family’s shame…” Fiera murmured. The birth hadn’t been too hard on her—or Lightspinning was far superior to Waterrunners and clerics of the Dark Isle—and the Empress was far more alert after staying at the inn than she had been in days.
Set into the mountain face was a large, pointed archway carved directly into the stone. It was a gaping hole that Vi suspected was positively massive up close. Carvings of wyrms and men surrounded the archway.
Raspian.
A shiver ripped through her. She could almost feel his presence curdling in her stomach like cream mixed with vinegar. She felt the edge of his magic in the air like red electricity right before it collected into a bolt of lightning.
“How could anyone see this as something to tamper with?” Vi mused aloud.
“Men are ambitious fools,” Fiera said dryly.
“Judging from the snow, we’re still ahead of them,” Deneya observed. She sounded as uncomfortable as Vi. “Let’s get this over with.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The moon had just risen when they arrived at the entrance on foot. Their horses were tied off down the mountain, behind some large rocks and out of sight. Vi used kot to hide their footprints once more.
<
br /> Deneya went in first, followed by Fiera. Vi approached the entrance but stopped, hovering where the snowdrift met the stone pathway within. An invisible force pushed outward like the dying sigh of a dragon. She stared up at the icicles that lined the top of the archway, imagining they were teeth. Imagining they might come crashing down on her at any moment.
“Yullia?” Deneya called back. “Is everything all right?”
Nothing was right about this place. “I’m fine.”
Vi crossed the threshold. The moment her boot met the crystal-dusted floor of the Caverns, turquoise magic pulsed outward like a ripple in water. She felt magic ebb and flow from her as ripples reverberated all over the stones, bouncing off each other, reaching every corner. They illuminated the magical veins in the walls, columns of crystal becoming sources of light.
“What did you do?” Deneya asked.
“I don’t know.” Vi shook her head and took another step forward. This time, there were no other pulses of magic.
“Well, now we have some light, at least.” Fiera gave a slow turn. “It’s large enough to fit a palace in here…”
Now that she could see properly, Vi assessed the Caverns. A pathway had been cut through the center—perhaps it had been made that way from the beginning—leading to another smaller archway. The ceiling was so high above them that it was merely a hazy blue, motes of Yargen’s magic falling toward them like snowflakes.
“A palace of death,” Deneya muttered.
“What?”
“Don’t you feel it?” Deneya asked Fiera. Vi could. “This place… it’s wrong.”
“Wrong or right… let’s set up this barrier.” Vi turned to Fiera. The faster they could get out of here, the better. Perhaps, if they moved quickly enough, they could get out of sight before the Knights arrived and there would be time yet to return Fiera to the West. Vi’s heart skipped a beat, nearly tripping her on hope.
“Let’s go farther in.” Fiera pointed to the inner archway. “I need a smaller opening to attach the barrier to. I can’t just make it in the air and the main entrance is too large.”
