Vortex Chronicles: The Complete Series (Air Awakens: Vortex Chronicles)

by Elise Kova

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “I am so tired of trekking across this continent!” Deneya moaned from her bedroll.

  “Keep it down.” Despite herself, Vi chuckled. She very much shared Deneya’s sentiment. “There might still be Northerners in these woods.”

  “After two nights ago? I doubt it.”

  Two nights ago… Those had been the final hours of Shaldan. They’d heard the fighting in the distance, echoing eerily through the towering trees. Vi could almost feel the earth weeping for the deaths of its children as she’d lain staring up at the canopy with wide eyes.

  “I wonder what happened.” Vi glanced in the direction of Soricium. “How it happened, rather.”

  “One war looks much like the next,” Taavin said solemnly.

  “You’re right. At least we didn’t have to be there for this one.” Vi stared at the fire she kept burning magically between them. Part of her willed Yargen to give her some kind of sign in the flames that they were on the right path. The other part of her was afraid of what she might see. “We should get going for the day. We want to make it out ahead of the army.”

  “It’ll take them weeks to move a mass of that size,” Deneya said with a yawn. “We can get a few more hours of shut-eye.”

  “We’ve slept late enough.”

  “Lies.”

  “Don’t you want a bed?” Taavin tried to reason with her.

  Deneya just rolled onto her side, gathering more leaves under her head. “Look at this pillow, so lavish. Don’t be jealous.”

  “Deneya—”

  “Deneya is sleeping.” She snored loudly for emphasis and Vi couldn’t resist laughing. It felt good to laugh. So good that guilt made an attempt to follow it as if to ask how dare she be even remotely happy right now. But Vi shut out the negative emotion.

  There was always someone hurting in the world. Someone was suffering every moment of every day. Sometimes, that person was her.

  Vi wouldn’t feel guilty for brief moments of joy.

  “Shame that we’ll have to leave Deneya behind.” Vi extinguished the hovering fire with a thought and began rolling her own bedroll. “She was such a good companion.”

  “Indeed. Certainly did a few things along the way,” Taavin said, packing up as well.

  “What were they, again?” Vi asked Taavin with a grin.

  “You know, I can’t recall.”

  “They must’ve not been very important, then.”

  “Perhaps it’s not a shame we’ll have to leave her behind after all.”

  “All right, I’m up.” Deneya sat. “And before either of you gets smug, it’s only because you’re both that terrible at teasing. I couldn’t stand to listen a moment longer.”

  Taavin laughed and the sound was a recharge to Vi’s system. Between the tense moments of guiding fate and holding the world together with straining threads, there were still traces of normalcy—moments of pretend. These, more than anything, were the moments that kept her human.

  She vowed to cling to them until her last breath.

  Traveling so light, it took them only a moment to pack up their basic camp. Vi led the way through the forest. She knew these trees from years spent underneath them. The thought they might have been in different locations than her world never even crossed her mind.

  Even if the trees were different, she knew how to read secret signposts made by Northern scouts, hidden from Imperial eyes.

  The sun hung high overhead when Deneya stretched out a hand. “Stop.”

  “What is it?” Vi asked.

  “I hear it too.” Taavin nodded at Deneya.

  “Hear what?” Their long ears were picking up something Vi couldn’t.

  “A horse, in the distance,” he said.

  “Northern?” Deneya asked.

  “No, they’d be riding noru,” Vi said.

  “This is definitely a horse.”

  “Are there many?”

  “Just the one, I think.” Deneya looked to Taavin. He hummed in agreement with her assessment. Deneya faced Vi. “What do you want to do?”

  “Let’s wait and see who it is.”

  They crouched behind the massive trunk of a tree, hidden by shrubs and branches. Soon enough, Vi heard the clops of hooves through the forest. The rider wasn’t going particularly fast.

  A messenger? Vi wondered.

  Her eyes widened when the horse came into view, a rider slumped over in the saddle, barely keeping herself upright. Twigs and leaves stuck out of brown hair Vi would recognize anywhere.

  “What is she doing here?” Deneya hissed.

  “Don’t ask me.” Taavin panicked at the sight of yet another thing going off-plan.

  It fell to Vi to act.

  “Durroe watt ivin,” she hissed, stepping from underneath the branches and into an illusion. Her eyes were blue, skin paler, hair lighter. She looked as generic as any other Southern soldier as she called out, “Vhalla Yarl?”

  Vhalla straightened instantly in her saddle, looking over her shoulder. She gripped the reins of the horse tightly. Her wide eyes darted between Vi and the path ahead, clearly ready to bolt.

  “Did they send you after me?” Vhalla asked warily.

  “Send me after you? Who’s ‘they’?”

  “Who are you?”

  Vi put her hands in her pockets and sighed. She glanced sideways, slowly bringing her eyes back to Vhalla. For good measure, she chewed on her lower lip, dragging out the obvious uncertainty.

  “Mother, I can’t lie to the Windwalker… Who am I? I’m nothing more than a coward.” Vi chuckled tiredly, slipping further into the character she was inventing on the spot. “I should ask if they sent you after me.”

  “Why would I…?”

  “I’m a deserter,” Vi said plainly. “Got too scared of the idea of that last great battle and fled. We all did.”

  A shadow crossed over Vhalla’s face. “We?”

  Vi motioned to Taavin and Deneya. They emerged from their hiding places with their ears hidden underneath illusioned chunks of hair.

  “We just want to go home and see our families again.”

  For a brief second, a look of disgust flashed in Vhalla’s eyes, but it faded before it could gain momentum. The woman looked back at Soricium and sighed heavily.

  “I suppose I can’t blame you. I’m barely shy of being a deserter myself.”

  “The Windwalker, you’d never—”

  “Don’t tell me what I’d never do,” she nearly shouted. Vhalla’s lower lip quivered and it was then Vi noticed her bloodshot eyes.

  Sehra lived.

  That was the only explanation for Vhalla’s presence. Aldrik had been betrothed to the chieftain’s daughter, as planned, and Vhalla couldn’t handle it.

  “You have no idea what I’ve done,” Vhalla continued.

  Vi raised her hands as if to show she was unarmed in both weapon and word. This was not the mother she knew. This was a war-weary and fragile young woman, pushed past the point of breaking.

  “Sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry.” Vhalla shook her head. “I should go.”

  “Where are you going?” Vi asked.

  “I… I’m not sure.” She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I was thinking of the Crossroads. Seems like a good place to disappear.”

  Go west by night. Vi’s own words echoed back to her. Had Vhalla left in the night, striking out for the West when all seemed lost, when she needed comfort?

  Vi had let Yargen lead her in the Crossroads when she was speaking with Vhalla. Had Yargen foreseen this meeting? There was no other way for Vi to interpret the situation. Yargen had hand-delivered the woman before her.

  And Vi wasn’t about to let her go.

  “Then, the way I see it, we’re headed in the same direction and none of us wants to be found. Why not travel together?” Vhalla was clearly uncertain, so Vi added, “It’ll be safer for all of us to travel in a larger group.”

  “I don’t
want anyone to know where I am.”

  “Who are we going to tell?” Vi motioned around her. “The army isn’t here, and a bunch of deserters certainly aren’t going back to report in.”

  Vhalla fumbled with the reins and then dismounted with a sigh. “All right. I need to walk the horse for a bit anyway so he can catch his breath. We can go together for at least a little.”

  “What made you depart so quickly?” Vi asked casually, taking a few wide steps to walk alongside Vhalla. Deneya and Taavin hung back. The young woman shot her a venomous glare. “Sorry!” Vi held up her hands. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know.” Vhalla sighed, her hands going up to the watch around her neck.

  The pocket watch-turned-necklace was almost identical in size and shape to Vi’s. But where the cover of Vi’s watch was mirror smooth, Vhalla’s watch had a sun split in half by a wing. It was a symbol Vi didn’t recognize. But if she was forced to guess, she’d surmise Aldrik had made it for Vhalla—assuming the Aldrik of this world kept similar hobbies to her father.

  Vi might not recognize the jewelry, but she did recognize the motion. Like mother, like daughter, she thought with a somewhat bitter note.

  “I know you didn’t mean to upset me,” Vhalla continued. “I left because…” she trailed off, and just when Vi had given up on the woman speaking again, she continued, “because I found out something that made a part of me feel as though it were dying.”

  “Dying?”

  “It’s hard to explain.” Vhalla smiled weakly. “My heart exists beyond myself. My life is not wholly my own. And the parts of me that were in another’s hands were crushed in an iron grip.”

  The cryptic words told Vi two things. The first was that she had been correct in her assumption about Sehra’s engagement. The second was a little less clear, but Vi was certain Vhalla was referencing the magical Bond forged between her and Aldrik all those months ago.

  She wasn’t surprised to see the young woman dancing around the topic. Bonds were rare and precious things. Knowledge of them could be used against the sorcerers who formed them.

  “I think I understand,” Vi said delicately.

  “You do?”

  “Maybe?” Vi gave Vhalla an encouraging smile. If Vi hadn’t been there the night Aldrik returned south, if she didn’t have fate’s full picture, then she likely wouldn’t have grasped all the layers to what Vhalla was trying to say. “At the very least… I have some idea of what it feels like to have a vulnerable part of yourself existing outside your skin.”

  Vi didn’t know if it was her or Yargen who felt the sentiment more keenly. Despite herself, her eyes drifted to Taavin.

  Vhalla’s intention to walk with them “a little” melted into the rest of the day. Vi didn’t dare point out that Vhalla was now setting up camp with them.

  “Are you sure you want to stay with our motley crew?” Deneya asked.

  “Don’t scare her away,” Vi scolded with a laugh, and a quick glance at her friend to say she wasn’t entirely joking.

  “It’s funny,” Vhalla murmured, focused on her bedroll. “I thought I wanted to be alone. But it turns out, it’s nice to have some company.”

  “We’re honored to hear it. Traveling with the illustrious Windwalker—”

  “Can you…” Vhalla trailed off, straightening away and looking out into the dark forest. “Can you not do that?”

  “Do what?” Vi was honestly confused.

  “That ‘illustrious Windwalker’ bit. I’m not illustrious. I’m not… I’m not anything, right now.”

  Vi opened and closed her mouth, struggling to find words. The self-deprecating statements had been ongoing throughout the day, peppered through their conversations. One side of her wanted to smack and shake the woman, shout at her that this wasn’t Vhalla Yarl at all. The Vhalla Vi had known was proud, and strong, and self-assured, but gentle to boot. She was everything a daughter aspired to be.

  This Vhalla was meek and soft-spoken, oozing out between the cracks of a thin-shelled, tough exterior. This Vhalla believed every horrible thing she said about herself and more. They were the words of a young woman trying to find her place in the world and doubting at every turn.

  For all her words frustrated Vi, they also softened a part of her heart to the point of aching.

  “You’re wrong.” Taavin was the one to speak. Vhalla was clearly surprised that the man whom had been silent for most of their journey today spoke. “I won’t even apologize for saying it plainly. You’re wrong, Vhalla Yarl.”

  “What do you—”

  “Know? What do I know?” He arched his eyebrows at her and chuckled with a small shake of his head. “When it comes to matters of importance, I know a fair bit.” Taavin picked up a stick, poking at Vi’s fire before throwing it in. “I come from a—uh—faraway town.” That was certainly one way to describe Risen. “In this town, there’s much lore surrounding fate, destiny, and the red lines of the Mother that link us all.

  “Our stories teach that everyone on this earth has a purpose and a role to play. Their choices guide them to key moments in this grand, shared story. Even—no—especially you.”

  Vhalla continued to stare at him, eyes shining in the firelight. She sat, settling herself in her bedroll. “I can’t, or won’t, argue with your stories. I’ll see you all in the morning.” Clutching her pack to her chest, she rolled over and pretended to go to sleep.

  Deneya slapped Taavin’s shoulder. “You jerk, you upset her,” she scolded with a whisper.

  “I was just trying to help!”

  Vi ignored their conversation, staring at Vhalla. Whatever she felt for the woman, Vhalla was on her own journey, just as Vi was on hers. She couldn’t lose sight of what she must do.

  Right now, her eyes settled on the strap of the bag Vhalla was holding. She was never without that pack, always keeping it close and clutching it whenever one of them drew near. Her heart began to race, and with every beat, Vi heard a resounding yes.

  The axe was in that bag. Vhalla had taken it with her. All Vi had to do now was wait for the opportunity to take it from the lone, unguarded Windwalker.

  They traveled together, all the way to the Crossroads.

  There wasn’t much time for plotting or planning on the road out of fear that Vhalla would overhear. But Vi assumed her companions were aware of the situation. She hadn’t been patient when she’d made her move to take the crown. She would be patient now and move slowly and methodically.

  “It’s good to be in civilization again,” Deneya said with a stretch. “I want to bathe for days.”

  “Me too,” Vi said, glancing at Vhalla. She’d grown quiet as they’d neared the city. “I suppose this is where we all part ways. No questions asked, just like you wanted.”

  “And your secret is safe with us,” Taavin chimed in. “No one will hear you’re in the Crossroads from any of us.”

  “If I even stay here,” Vhalla said quickly, a little too forced. She was definitely planning on staying here, at least for a little. “Thank you all for the company. The journey somehow seemed faster with you all.” Vhalla reached up and took her second pack from where it was strapped to the saddle. “You can have the horse.”

  “Are you sure?” Vi asked.

  She nodded. “I stole it after the last battle.” Deneya roared with laughter that cracked a grin on Vhalla’s face. “So I recommend changing the leathers from military issue, at least.”

  “We will.” Vi took the reins. “Thank you for this gift.”

  “Take care, all of you.” Vhalla waved and headed down a side alley.

  “Follow her,” Vi said with a glance at Taavin.

  “Meet back at our shop?”

  She nodded. The man stepped away and ducked behind a rubbish pile. She could see a ripple in the air when he emerged from his hiding place, now invisible. Vi only caught the faint distortion because she knew what to look for.

  “Deneya, you still have the measurements for the axe?”


  “I do.”

  “I need you to make or procure one as soon as possible for me to shift.”

  “On it.”

  Deneya departed as well and Vi went back to their shop alone. She tied the horse in the back alley, setting out water. Then, she brought their supplies to the apartment upstairs. It was evening when her friends returned.

  “She’s sleeping in an alley with one eye open,” Taavin reported.

  “We can make that sleep heavier with loft not.” Vi held out a hand for the axe Deneya was holding. The woman passed it over.

  Holding out the weapon, Vi encased it in a pulse of magic. It had been a long time since she had used the shift, and the magic felt rusty. On her third try, she finally got the weapon perfected into something she was convinced could fool Vhalla.

  “It’s unnerving watching a non-morphi do that,” Deneya murmured.

  “Don’t worry, it’s the last weapon—you won’t have to see me use the shift again.”

  “I wouldn’t say I was worried…”

  “Taavin, lead us to her.” Vi remained focused. Her fingers itched with yearning for the crystal weapon. She was close to it, terribly close. The axe was the final piece that would make everything fall into place.

  Cloaked with durroe, they proceeded through the Crossroads as unseen specters. Her heart raced with every twist of the back alleys and maze-like streets. Behind every turn could be Vhalla and the axe. Any moment could be the last when she felt this insatiable yearning, this intolerable incompleteness.

  Taavin came to a full stop.

  “She’s not here.”

  “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know.” He dropped hands with Vi and Deneya. The illusion vanished from around them and Taavin frantically searched the empty alleyway. “She was here. I saw her fall asleep.”

  If Vi had been in Vhalla’s shoes, she’d have kept moving. She’d sleep in spurts and always look over her shoulder. She wouldn’t linger in the same place for longer than she had to, and she would change her appearance at the first opportunity.

  Even after all this time, it still seemed she was her mother’s daughter. Yet Vi had failed spectacularly at using that to her advantage.

  With a grunt of rage, Vi spun, punching the wall of the building next to her. A singe mark was left behind from the crackle of flame around her fist, but her skin wasn’t split. There wasn’t even a bruise.