by Kova, Elise
“Vi…” He was practically squirming with discomfort. She would have spared pity for him if she didn’t so desperately want to know what he was hiding. “Does Jayme know the Le’Dan family?”
Vi sat a little straighter in her chair. “Why?”
“Well, when I went to investigate… I found her already there. I… I’m sorry. But I followed her.”
“Go on.” Her food was entirely forgotten.
“She went around back. There was someone from the store there, unloading boxes off a cart—a Southern woman, by the looks of her long blonde hair. They exchanged some words. Jayme handed something to her. The woman handed her a small satchel in return. And then they parted.”
“Did you hear what they said?”
“No… I didn’t want to get that close.”
“Understandable. Thank you for telling me. I’m sure it was just a friend of hers.” Vi smiled, hoping to put the matter, and Andru’s clear worry, to rest.
Jayme had never spoken of the Le’Dan family. But Vi had never asked, either. In fact, she’d never inquired much about Jayme’s journeys from south to north and back. It wasn’t unreasonable to suspect she’d made some friends along the way—companions to share a table with in the Crossroads to make her travels less lonely.
“Well, I think that—”
The door burst open, interrupting her thought.
“Vi Solaris!” Ellene exclaimed, barging in without so much as a knock. “We have not seen you in—”
When Ellene and Jayme actually saw her, they froze mid-step. Both women looked from Vi to Andru, to the meal laid between them. Jayme, to her usual credit, kept her composure. Ellene, however, looked utterly shocked.
“We’re not interrupting something, are we?” Jayme asked slowly.
Vi could practically see the incorrect assumptions tallying up in their minds and she burst out laughing. “No, no you’re not.”
Andru sat rigidly in his seat, looking between Vi and her friends, and then focusing on anything else in the room
“Are you sure? Because we could come back.” A fox-like grin was creeping across Ellene’s lips.
“Andru and I are not having some sort of clandestine affair under your noses.” Vi snorted again with laughter at the notion. “Not in the slightest.”
“Wait… What?” It seemed to have dawned on him all at once what the two were hinting at. “No. No we are not. Her highness is right. This was just dinner to… to go over things.”
“And what were you ‘going over’?” Ellene waggled her eyebrows as she sauntered over to the table and helped herself to one of the leaf-wrapped pouches.
Jayme continued to hover, looking between Vi and Andru. For one brief second, Vi was worried she’d somehow heard them discussing her. But she followed shortly behind Ellene, sitting at Vi’s left and picking at some of the skewers from a nearby platter.
“Something I need to go over with both of you, so I’m glad you’re here.” Vi leaned back in her chair, food forgotten for now. “Someone is trying to kill me.”
“More than the saddle?” Ellene asked through her food.
“Yes.” Jayme was the one to answer.
“How do you know?” Ellene asked with a mix of shock and hurt.
“Jax told me, as part of the investigation, since I’m Vi’s guard. He swore me and the other warriors to secrecy over it… He doesn’t want word spreading that the Crown Princess could be in danger.”
“You could’ve told me at least.” Ellene huffed and pressed her back into her chair. “You know I wouldn’t have told.”
“She was just trying to do her job,” Vi spoke for Jayme, hoping Ellene would listen. “It’s a recent posting and all.”
“Yes, yes, I get it.” Despite what she said, Ellene still folded her arms over her chest, clearly frustrated. “Though, that explains why there were so many warriors around the bridge and halls leading to it… To think, I believed them that they were merely looking for any other structural weaknesses!” Ellene turned to Vi, the full depth of the situation dawning on her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m still here,” Vi said gratefully.
“Speaking of being here…” Jayme turned to Andru. “You know something. That’s what this dinner is about, isn’t it?”
He gave a small nod, looking anywhere but the guard staring him down. “Yes… I saw him. The attacker.”
“Tell me what happened,” Jayme demanded. “I’m clearly missing something that wasn’t imparted to Jax.”
“I told Jax the truth,” Vi insisted.
“Just not the whole truth.” Her friend knew her too well.
“The man we’re fighting isn’t entirely… human.”
“What is he then?” Ellene was a mix of horrified and excited. The latter worried Vi slightly.
“He’s a monster, from far away—across the sea.”
“Like the Crescent Continent?” Ellene asked.
“Like that… Yes.” It was a miracle Andru had believed her. Vi didn’t want to push her luck with her friends by going too far into the details. How could she tell them the world was ending? “Andru is helping me investigate how such a creature may have arrived.”
“I’ll ask my mother, see if she knows anything,” Ellene offered. Vi was certain Sehra had already been consulted. But she knew her friend merely wanted to be of help. “And Darrus, he may have heard something in the city.”
“Don’t spread word of our investigation too far,” Vi cautioned, thrumming her fingers on the table. “We don’t want to alert my attacker to our movements… or Jax or my tutors—they’ll tell us not to worry over such things and put me under even tighter scrutiny for fear I’ll be reckless.”
“But you are reckless,” Jayme muttered.
Andru gave a snort of amusement at her final sentiment. Jayme and Ellene both turned their heads in shock at the noise. He coughed, looking away.
“That sounded like something Romulin would say, is all…” he mumbled.
“So we’re all in on this, then,” Jayme said finally, slowly, her eyes on Andru.
“Yes. All of us,” Vi affirmed. They would see Andru was a friend soon enough. She had to have faith in that. “Thank you all for it.”
“It’s what we’re here for.” Ellene squeezed her hand. “And in the meantime, when we need a break, we can focus on winter solstice activities!”
Vi gave a small nod and smile. She felt marginally better getting everyone on the same page. Even if they might not be able to do much, having some path forward was enough, for now.
Tomorrow, and every day between now and the solstice, she would be working with Taavin.
If she was truly going to survive the threat of an elfin’ra, he would be the one to equip her with the knowledge on how to do it.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Vi was with Taavin whenever she could find a moment alone, which was more often than she would have expected.
They spent time working on her technique. He guided her through finger placement, and how he formed the glyphs in his mind. Vi watched his hands, skilled and effortless, as they moved through the air. She listened to his words so carefully that they resonated in her sleep.
For the first time, it was as if she had a real magic tutor who knew what to do with her.
When Vi wasn’t with Taavin, she spent the hours scouring her maps and notes for the location of “Eye-owe.” And when that ultimately yielded no results, she sought out Andru, Ellene, Jayme, or all three. The ladies still expressed skepticism about Andru in private, but they made a good-faith effort to give him a decent chance. Vi took it as a good sign when Ellene felt comfortable enough to open up about the fact that she had finally agreed to dance with Darrus.
On the morning of the winter solstice, Vi woke early.
It was still dark when she got out of bed. The world had become chilly in the mornings and the floor was icy on her feet. But she knew it would warm significantly as soon as the sun crested the horizon.
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Vi dressed in the clothes the tailors had made special for the occasion. Her Southern tailors had insisted that she should be in a dress befitting the Crown Princess on a ceremonial occasion. Vi knew she had to look the part, but she also enjoyed the winter solstice and wanted to be able to participate in the festivities. She’d won everyone over by pointing out that while it was important to pay homage to her Southern roots, she should also show respect to her Northern hosts.
What was crafted was a compromise of the two fashion sensibilities.
On top, she wore a golden shirt fitted to her torso with a tall, wide neck. The shirt split at her hips into a front and back piece that draped down to below her knees, reminiscent of the tabbards the Northern warriors wore. A tightly fitted white undershirt had long sleeves that reached a point over her hands, hooked to her middle fingers with small rings. Her legs were covered with a patchwork of lynx leather, tucked into knee-high boots.
Underneath it all, the watch was warm against her skin. She’d grown so accustomed to its weight that the idea of removing it now seemed virtually impossible. In her mind, it had become synonymous with the newfound confidence she was still working on building in her magic.
Around her wrist was a glowing glyph. Vi had learned how to make and sustain narro hath so well that she could now slide it from her fingers to her wrist like a bracelet, that way she could move her hand with it staying in place. Which was good for a morning like this, when she couldn’t lose time.
“Juth,” Taavin said from over her shoulder.
Vi paused, closing her eyes. She summoned the symbol in her mind, drawing every line with precision. When she opened them again, her hands continued to move through her hair, carefully weaving braids.
“Calt.”
She repeated the process, summoning a new symbol to her mind. Taavin had stressed how summoning the glyphs needed to be second nature. Not only did she need to know them as they appeared in her book. But she needed to know how they changed, slightly, to adapt to her own internal voice—that was where mastery came from. Or so he claimed.
“Mysst,” Taavin said from over her shoulder.
Vi paused, watching as circles formed and lines intersected them behind her eyelids. Mysst, to craft.
“That one you’ll find useful…” Her eyes flicked up, looking at him in the mirror. He hovered in his otherworldly way, not quite solid, not quite ghostly, right at the edge of her closet. “We should focus there more. You can use it to make shields and weapons of light. Now that you have a better handle on juth, it’s a logical progression.”
“In theory,” she corrected for him. Taavin arched his eyebrows. “I have a better handle on juth in theory. We haven’t been able to do much practice…”
“Yes, well, you said you’d find a training ground for that soon.”
“I’m trying,” Vi mumbled, tying off a braid. Luckily he didn’t press. Vi had a suspicion that Taavin didn’t doubt how hard it was for her to concoct reasons to do anything in her structured life.
“What is it you’re getting ready for?” Taavin’s voice audibly shifted when he was no longer asking as her tutor but her friend.
“Today is the winter solstice. It’s a big holiday here in Shaldan.”
“What do you do?” He walked over to her side.
“It starts with a ritual to Yargen at dawn… then merriment—singing, dancing, performances, shopping—until the final ritual of the day at dusk.”
“That sounds like heaven.” Taavin’s eyes fluttered closed as he spoke.
Vi’s hands stilled, falling from her hair. She turned to look at him. The room was dim, a few candles her only light to see by. He radiated light that couldn’t seem to touch her world. It didn’t reflect off her mirror or the shine of her wooden walls.
It was as though he only existed in her mind.
“Do you like to dance?” he asked, opening his eyes again.
Vi looked quickly back to her mirror, pretending she hadn’t been inspecting him in his moment of thoughtful longing. “I like it well enough, I suppose.”
“Is it difficult?”
“You don’t know how?” She turned back to him, surprised.
“I’ve never had a partner.”
“You don’t need a partner to dance.” Vi laughed softly. “You can do it alone.”
“No one has ever taught me.” He shrugged.
“You’ve never felt so merry at the sound of music that your feet just moved on their own?” She was hardly one to talk. Vi was not one to be swept away by a beat. But it had happened once or twice.
“I have not had many reasons—until lately—to feel merry, Vi.”
Until lately. The words stuck with her, shining like the light that surrounded him. Vi swallowed, facing him. They talked so much now, but it felt like even more was going unsaid. There was no logical explanation for the feeling, but it put a lump in her throat.
“Perhaps I can teach you some time?”
The tiniest of smiles crossed his mouth. His eyes were soft, tender almost. A welcome change from the hard-as-gemstones man she’d first met.
“I’d like that.” There was a soft knock on her bedroom door. Vi looked between Taavin and the source of the noise. “You should go.”
She should. But all she wanted to do was stay and teach a man made of light how to dance.
“I’ll summon you tonight. It’s quiet after the festivities. We can go over mysst,” she whispered hastily.
“I’ll be waiting.”
Vi kept her eyes on his face as it disappeared. She felt the strands of light release from her fingers, knots of tension in her magic relaxing. He was gone, as though he’d never been there at all. And it was that impermanence that put an ache in her chest.
“Come in,” Vi called, finishing up her braids as she emerged back into her bedroom. She was finding it easier and easier to switch back and forth from talking with Taavin to engaging with the rest of the world. It was a necessary skill to ensure he remained her secret.
“You look beautiful,” Jax said from the doorway.
“Good thing my face healed, right?” Vi remarked, pausing to rub the bridge of her nose lightly. She wondered if it had set correctly.
Jax laughed, then had the decency to look guilty for it. “I meant your clothing, not your face.”
“I told you I wasn’t insane for wanting to go a little untraditional.”
“By all standards… it’s certainly something no one would dare call traditional,” he appraised. “But it’s a very nice merger of North and South.” The statement was punctuated with a yawn.
“Too early for you?” Vi grinned. “It’s not much earlier than we used to get up for our magic lessons.”
“Yes, well, we haven’t had those in some time thanks to Sehra stealing you from me for lessons.” Jax glanced at the window. “Speaking of Sehra, I believe I saw her headed down.”
“Is it that late already?” Vi jumped from her seat.
“Not late, perfectly on time.”
They walked down together through the tree fortress, across the same pathways and passages Vi had traversed more than a week ago to get to the Mother Tree. The barrier she had to scale was completely gone. In its place were pathways of fresh grass lined by woven roots, and patches of flowers nursed to bloom by the tender hands of a Groundbreaker. As far as Vi could tell, there was no sign or suspicion of her earlier trespass.
Jayme was waiting for them on the outer edge.
“Good morning, princess.” She gave a small bow of her head. Even in her nicest dress clothes, attending a sacred event, her sword was still strapped to her hip.
“Good morning.” Vi ignored decorum and pulled her in for a close hug. “And happy solstice.” She felt the woman relax in her arms.
“Happy solstice to you as well.” Jayme gave her a pat on the back.
“This is your first time, right?” Vi linked arms with her friend, walking toward the tree.
“Yes, I usually
stay in the capital or go home over winters.”
“How is your father doing?” Vi asked delicately. The opportunity to broach the topic of Jayme’s family wasn’t frequently afforded; speaking about them upset Jayme terribly, and while Vi had no desire to trouble her, she wanted to make plain that she cared. “Have you heard word since arriving?”
“Mother says he’s well.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Over the years, it had come out that Jayme’s father was ailing… some constant, chronic problem. But Vi didn’t know any further details. The only solace Vi took was that he had grown sick long before the White Death made landfall. So there was no suspicion of the deadly plague being the cause of his illness.
Her father’s sickness… Friends made on the road… Her ambition to become a guard… It suddenly struck Vi just how little she actually knew about her friend. There was the same sickening feeling that accompanied the realization about Andru’s knowledge of Romulin.
“Happy solstice!” Ellene ran over from her mother’s side, throwing her arms around them both and interrupting Vi’s thoughts before they could run away from her. They echoed the sentiment back. “I thought you were going to be so late you’d miss it.”
“The sky is barely turning colors.”
“Yes well, we need to—”
“Ellene, your place,” Sehra called over to her daughter.
With that, the rest of the room fell into their places as well.
Sehra and her wife, Za, stood before the statue of Dia and the Mother, Ellene sandwiched between them. There was a ring of men and women around them, and Vi stood with them. She recognized some of the others in her circle like dignitaries, nobles, and even a Crone of the Sun. Vi tried to peer under the woman’s over-sized cowl, but could only see the lower half of her face, as was customary. It was rare to see crones in the North… perhaps she’d come with the same caravan as the old woman in the market.
Behind them, around the edge of the room, was everyone else. Still a small group, so mostly important people in Northern society and to Sehra. Of them, Vi only recognized three—Jax, Jayme, and Andru. Quite a few leaders from the outer townships of Shaldan had come to Soricium this year, it seemed, so the usual attendees from the fortress had been edged out.
