by Elise Kova
Aldrik showed the nearly final list to his father.
“Where will the Windwalker go?” the Emperor’s eyes drifted to her, nothing but utter distain held within them.
“Do we want her in the palace?” Baldair asked, ignoring the tension. “To relay information from within?”
“That is certainly one useful place,” Raylynn thought aloud.
“Where do you want to be?” Major Zerian turned to Vhalla, with everyone else’s eyes following.
“I will be wherever I am most useful.” Vhalla glanced at the Emperor, wondering if there was a right and wrong answer to the question.
“Of course you will be.” Major Zerian had the makings of a weathered smile. “I am asking because the place you will be most useful is the place you want to be.”
“I don’t want to Project. I want to fight.” There was no question in Vhalla’s mind.
“What?” Daniel was surprised, and he wasn’t alone.
“Really?” Baldair asked.
“I was brought here to give insight, or entry, into the palace. I have done the former, and with these current circumstances, the latter does not seem necessary,” Vhalla addressed the confused and curious looks. “I think I will be of more use on the field.”
“I have been itching to see a legendary Windwalker twister,” Jax commented with a smirk.
“We do not know how this battle will end, what will need to happen after. We may still need entry into the palace; it seems foolish to risk the life of the only person who can grant it,” Craig pointed out.
Vhalla frowned. It made sense, but she wasn’t exactly fond of Craig for suggesting it in that moment.
“I think we should let her fight,” the Emperor announced. Everyone was surprised, other than Vhalla and the princes.
He would want her to fight, Vhalla mused darkly. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had some “accident” planned to occur in the chaos of battle.
“If she fights, she fights with me,” Aldrik proclaimed, clearly having a similar thought. There was a small threat in his tone, daring anyone to question him.
Even the Emperor remained silent.
“Then she fights with you,” Major Zerian voiced the final decision.
Vhalla heard Aldrik take a breath and hold it as he leaned over the paper they had been working on. She watched as his hand moved, squeezing the name of his future bride in a small space next to his. The ink dried and, just like that, it was done.
The following days passed easier than expected. Vhalla had never expected to find peace, nevertheless happiness, at the end of the world. But that was the only way she could describe the feelings that had taken root in her chest.
Preparing for war was exhausting work. She spent nearly every day Projecting, and when she wasn’t, she was at Aldrik’s side lending her insights to planning the army. The majors seemed to have accepted her as one of them and listened to her thoughts even when Aldrik wasn’t part of the conversation, even when he was off tending to something else. It was bold, but they displayed few issues in accepting her as the prince’s voice in his absence. Aldrik encouraged it by deferring to whatever she’d decided.
The Emperor did not bother her or Aldrik either. Vhalla was not delusional enough to think that he too had accepted her. It was far more likely that he had been so scorned by Aldrik and the majors’ fondness of her that he was licking his wounds quietly. Or, scheming. Likely both.
Vhalla noticed the majors’ eyes on her watch more than once. But no one asked. The same was not true for Fritz. He babbled and gawked over it every time Vhalla went to visit him.
She decided not to tell the Southerner about Aldrik’s proposal, merely writing off the token as a gift. Fritz didn’t question, and Vhalla felt guilty for taking advantage of his blind trust. Something about it all remained impossibly unreal. It was still a dream, a pretense, a make believe that she would one day marry Aldrik.
At night, the prince would assure her otherwise in every way he knew how, in ways Vhalla hadn’t even conceived were possible.
The closer the final day came, one more thing began to creep up between her every thought. On the eve of the battle, it was all she could think of: the axe. She knew it existed, she could feel it in her bones, and Minister Victor had asked her to retrieve it. If it was as powerful as he claimed, then the last thing Vhalla wanted was for it to fall into the wrong hands.
She hadn’t noticed she’d been staring into space until a palm rested on her lower back. Vhalla jumped in surprise. Aldrik stood at her side.
“Go to bed,” he commanded softly. Aldrik misunderstood her distraction for exhaustion. “This is the last night, and you need all the rest you can get.”
“What about you?” Vhalla asked, glancing to make sure no one was close enough to hear.
“I will be burning the midnight oil.” Aldrik shook his head. “Not sleeping is back to normal for me.”
“Not anymore,” Vhalla was eager to correct him.
“Perhaps you are right. Normal has become actually sleeping through the night.” Aldrik grinned.
“I’m ruining you,” Vhalla jested lightly.
“How dare you make me sleep and take care of myself,” he replied in mock anger.
“Is it really alright if I leave?” she asked, looking at how busy the room still was.
“We all have to sleep eventually. Some of the others have already shut their eyes.”
“When will you?” she asked.
“Soon.” He glanced away.
“How soon?” Vhalla could tell when her prince was avoiding her.
“Perhaps by dawn.” Aldrik shook his head. “Don’t wait for me.”
“Fine,” Vhalla sighed with a glance at the Emperor. She had hovered at Aldrik’s side for long enough. She wasn’t about to push their luck any further by demanding he always disappear with her, that they not so mysteriously retire at the same time.
Aldrik’s shoulders dropped as he became more intensely focused on the work at the table before him. Vhalla stepped away, and the majors who still lingered gave her respectful nods. The Emperor ignored her departure entirely.
Vhalla was opening the door to Aldrik’s room just as a slightly rumpled Baldair was departing his. She’d missed his prior departure from the group. Vhalla paused to give him a small smile.
“Hello, Vhalla.” He yawned.
“Hello, Baldair.” She lingered, noticing how the prince paused.
“Vhalla.” Baldair glanced down the hall. “I may not have another chance to say this ...”
“What is it?”
“Good luck.” The words were simple enough, but they had a depth of meaning. “And keep yourself alive.”
“That’s the plan.” She grinned tiredly. “And you also, Baldair.”
Just when Vhalla thought the conversation finished, Baldair spoke, “I would miss you.” “Huh?”
“I would,” he insisted. “If something happened, I would miss you.”
“Baldair, your affections are a little late,” Vhalla laughed softly.
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” He ruffled her hair, his palm resting a moment on the crown of her head. “Over these past weeks, you’ve become a part of the family, and I kind of enjoy having you around.”
“Kind of ?” She couldn’t resist.
“Mother, woman, take the compliment!” He put his hands on his hips and chuckled.
“I enjoy your company too, Baldair.” Vhalla smiled. They had come a long way. “Now that you’ve stopped tormenting me about your brother.”
“Yes, well ...” He ran a hand through his hair. “I thought I was being helpful, for both of you. But you’ve inspired such changes in him. He’s not the man he was just a year ago, and I must admit that we have you to thank for it. I’ve never seen him like this before, and I’m sorry for trying to halt its progression.”
“I’m not upset with you.” Vhalla realized he was waiting for her verdict.
“I’m glad
,” the prince spoke earnestly. “I think when we are back at the palace, I would like to get to know you again, Vhalla.”
“Oh?” She arched her eyebrows.
“I have known you as a library girl that made for some amusement at the expense of my brother.” She snorted and he continued, “A soldier, an addition to my brother’s Legion. Then, as my brother’s ... lover.” He coughed over the last word.
“It’s like you have never seen your brother with a woman,” Vhalla teased.
“I don’t normally! It’s—weird! He’s not supposed to be this warm and kind creature,” Baldair protested. The light moment faded quickly as his cerulean eyes fell to her chest.
Vhalla glanced down insecurely, seeing the source of his attention. Her hand quickly went up to the watch that was now a familiar weight at her throat.
“I’d like to get to know you better, that’s all,” Baldair said thoughtfully. “As the woman who my brother has deemed worthy.”
“I would like to get to know you better as well,” Vhalla softly replied. He knew, she was certain of it. He knew Aldrik’s make as well as she did and, even if he didn’t know the watch was an engagement token, the younger prince held a poignant awareness that it was significant. That things had formally changed with it.
“I’ll see you then.” Baldair clasped a hand over her upper arm. “As we celebrate victory.”
Vhalla smiled and nodded, watching as he walked away. The expression didn’t drop from her face until she was in Aldrik’s room alone.
Victory, the word spun in her head. Tomorrow they would battle against the North’s last stand. She clutched the watch so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
Resolved, Vhalla turned to the window. No one could see her; they would stop her if they did. Vhalla donned her chainmail and pulled up the hood. She pushed open the shutter and slipped out into the night, quickly walking away from the camp palace.
She had one night. She had until dawn when her prince would return to bed looking to curl against her. Vhalla had to defend their victory. Somewhere in the darkness, an axe that could cut through souls waited.
VHALLA KEPT HER head down as she traversed the camp. There was a palpable force to the soldiers’ motions, and she slipped unimpeded through the tense bustle. The military knew of the attack, and everyone seemed to gird themselves to face what the next day would bring.
More than once, she saw soldiers stitching painted wings to their clothing, etching the symbol of the Windwalker onto their armor. Vhalla bit her lip, thinking of Tim. What had happened while she was working in the camp palace? Did all these people really think that a symbol could protect them against whatever the North could devise?
She didn’t say anything, however. She kept on her course to the edge of camp and up the rise toward the burnt track that ran around the perimeter. Vhalla wondered briefly what Soricium was like before the military. There must have been trees where the Imperial army now camped. Had it been like the capital in the South with thousands of people making their home around the fortress?
Vhalla would’ve paused to contemplate the idea, but she didn’t want to turn around just yet and give her pursuer knowledge that she was aware of his presence. Vhalla had heard a set of footsteps behind her since shortly after the camp palace. At first, she thought it was just a soldier who happened to have business in the same direction as she, but they had been trailing her too long for it to be mere chance. She clenched her fists, waiting until they had crested the rise and started on the burnt stretch—until they were alone.
She took a deep breath, bracing herself. There was only one explanation for a person tailing her. Whatever the Knights of Jadar were planning, they would not be successful.
Shifting her weight, Vhalla pivoted on one foot, raising a hand across her chest. Magic was swift under her fingers, ready to lash outward. Her whole body froze awkwardly the second her eyes met a familiar set.
“Daniel?” she uttered, confused.
“Where are you headed?” His hand rested on the pommel of his sword, but only lightly. It betrayed his training. If she had lashed out at him, he would’ve been ready. He would’ve dodged and countered before Vhalla had a chance to blink—if she wasn’t leveraging Aldrik’s depth of combat knowledge.
“Where are you headed?” she retorted.
“I asked you first.” It was a childish response, but that didn’t make it any less effective.
Vhalla shifted her balance, dropping her arm. “I have something I need to do.”
“Something reckless,” he clarified for her.
“Perhaps.” Vhalla shrugged. She hadn’t honestly given her course of action much thought. She only knew it needed to be done.
“Perhaps.” Daniel shook his head and chuckled, mostly to himself. His gaze was one that Vhalla hadn’t expected to see ever again. There was a deeply rooted tenderness, an admiration that made Vhalla want to remind him that she was a taken woman.
Her hand went up to her neck, grabbing for Aldrik’s watch. It was under her chainmail, and her fingers rested awkwardly atop the metal.
“I know you.” Daniel took a step closer. “You have this knack for being reckless and attracting danger.”
“So?” She took a step back. “Are you going to force me to go back?”
The Easterner laughed, shaking his head and tossing his brown hair. “Certainly not, your life is yours to live. But I will protect you, if you will have my sword.”
“Because Baldair ordered it?” Vhalla didn’t know why it mattered.
“Have I ever needed an order to be near you?” He had a point Vhalla could not refute.
“He didn’t send you?” Vhalla realized Daniel had thought she was referring to Baldair’s previous, general order of protecting her.
“Baldair?” Daniel was confused now as well. “No, I saw you in camp and decided to see where you were off to.”
“How did you know it was me?”
Daniel crossed the remaining distance and Vhalla waited. He took the half step into the threshold of personal space that was a little too familiar. He was a breath away and, were they not both wearing armor, she would’ve been able to reach out and feel his firm chest, the way the muscles curved under her palm. His hazel eyes were as warm as a summer day.
“I’ve never seen another chainmail like this.” His fingers ran along the edge of the hood.
The rough pad of a finger fell off the chainmail and onto her forehead, lightly running over her skin. Vhalla realized that nothing had changed for Daniel. Even knowing about her and Aldrik, about where Vhalla’s heart was given, he still felt a more than friendly level of ardor for her. But, as he pulled his hand away, he resigned with grace to the role in her life he could play.
It made her heart ache with a conflict.
“So, will you tell me then what you’re out here hoping to achieve?” Daniel took the half step out of her personal space.
“I think the less you know the better,” Vhalla decided after only a moment’s debate. She set out once more for her destination; there wasn’t any time to waste.
“That sounds ominous.” Daniel walked at her side.
Vhalla stared at the structure they were approaching. It was an ominous sort of night. The full moon stared down at them like one wide eye of the Dragon of Chaos that lore said it contained. The closer they neared to the ruins of old Soricium, the more prominent the feeling of being watched became.
It was a feeling that exactly mirrored one she had felt before in the Crossroads, when a Firebearer’s eyes lingered on her for far too long. But they were half a continent away from that curiosity shop now. It was far more likely that the eyes Vhalla felt were those of a waiting enemy.
The ruins were larger than Vhalla remembered. They seemed to almost double in size from one end of the scorched earth to the other. Now they towered taller than any single building she’d ever seen—that wasn’t the palace—and Vhalla felt dwarfed by its presence. The trees and roots that were gna
rling their way through the stone seemed to only penetrate so deep. Under the crumbling façade was a deeper layer of smooth stone, much like she’d seen in Soricium.
“Has anyone ever gone in?” she asked Daniel. It wasn’t his first tour so she thought he may know.
“In? No.” He shook his head.
Vhalla paused at the tree line, staring into the yawning darkness created by the canopy of the jungle. Even the light of the moon couldn’t penetrate to the forest floor. The last time she had gone into this jungle she had come out with almost nothing.
Clenching her fists, Vhalla took a step forward, deeply grateful for Daniel’s presence.
She began walking around the building, running her hand along the stone. It was a sorcery unlike any she’d ever felt. Most magic Vhalla had ever encountered seemed to move. Firebearers crackled and radiated, Waterrunners ebbed and flowed, Groundbreakers were vibrant and colorful in their sorcery. But, this—this was a pulse rooted to something much deeper than any Channel Vhalla had ever encountered.
Even Daniel had fallen quiet. His eyes were on high alert, and he scanned the treetops and forest floor for any sign of an attack. Vhalla felt the hair on the back of her neck rise, the feeling of eyes becoming so great that she paused to shift into her magical sight and listen on the wind for any breath of enemies.
It was silent.
The forest was so chillingly still that Vhalla turned and peered over her shoulder, desperate to see a sliver of moonlight from the way they had come. The thick brush had already closed in around them, blotting out any view of the Imperial camp beyond. As if the forest was a hungry beast that had swallowed them whole.
There was nowhere to go but forward, so Vhalla pushed on. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but as they rounded the back end of the structure, Vhalla barely contained a sigh of relief and a groan of frustration. All she could see was more of the same. More magically shaped stone defending the building’s contents from everything—even the trees.
She stilled, repeating the only facts that she knew about the axe. Achel slept in a stone tomb. Judging from where Za had been focused, Vhalla was certain that this was the “stone tomb” she had been referring to.
