by Elise Kova
“You should go, too. I don’t want you traveling at night when the wolves are out.” Deneya chuckled and Vi cracked a grin. They both knew the remark was more jest than worry.
“I am the wolf.” Deneya’s smile split into a wicked smirk. “More fresh meat.”
“And more pelts.” Vi stepped away as Deneya mounted Prism. “Safe travels.”
“You as well. And good luck in there today!”
Before Vi could reply, Deneya clicked her tongue and Prism started his trudge through the snowy forest. The creaking of the cart covered any response she could’ve given. Not that Vi had any words worth saying.
Good luck in there. She needed more than luck. She needed results.
Their cabin was simple but well made. Deneya’s brawn and knack for construction was a compliment to Vi’s knowledge of architecture. It’d taken about a year to complete. But since then, they’d added onto it every summer. First it was the stables for their two large warstriders—Prism and Midsummer—and now their yearlings as well. The next year, before the summer rains, they’d replaced the initial thatching with wooden shingles of bark they’d sheared from trees. Another summer they’d laid wooden flooring inside. A different winter they cobbled the loveliest stones they could find over the hearth to make a mantle.
Inside there were two beds, a table, and two chairs. Vi walked over to the corner by her bed and lifted the sword that had been left behind in the Caverns years ago by the Knights of Jadar. She still wondered, from time to time, what the Knights said about that night. Did they recall it clearly? Or was the truth written and re-written through oral embellishments throughout time?
From their cabin, it took her about an hour and a half to walk up to the Crystal Caverns. She could do it in less time. But there wasn’t a rush to anything these days. Time had continued its steady march as Vi worked in the shadows, determined to make the impossible happen.
Vi emerged from between cliffs and stepped into the light of the snowfield that coated the base of the mountain where the path up to the Crystal Caverns began. Tracks in the pristine white blanket weren’t uncommon. There were a number of animals that continued to wander the mountainsides, even in the heart of winter. But these tracks were different, and fresh.
Someone was here.
Staying close to the rocky mountainside where there was less snow to show her footprints, Vi made her way to the tracks that led up toward the Crystal Caverns. She crouched beside the largest boulder she could find, wedging herself in a cranny.
“Durroe watt radia,” she whispered. A glyph appeared around her wrist and magic shimmered at the edges of her vision. A cloak of invisibility settled on her shoulders and she prepared herself to wait.
After about an hour, she heard the whinny of a horse and the clop of hooves over the mountain path. Her muscles had long since seized and gone numb from the waiting. But Vi remained rigid, watching. Her time in the wild had taught her nothing if not patience.
The horse came into view. The broad-shouldered rider atop wore a hooded cloak of deep blue that covered almost all of his face. Vi leaned forward, as though that would help her sight penetrate the shadow the cowl cast.
He continued forward, oblivious to her, down the path he’d arrived from and eastward—the direction one would take to the Capital. Vi waited until he was long out of sight before releasing her magic and making haste up the pathway to the Crystal Caverns.
The moment she entered, Vi pushed magic out through her feet, the crystals illuminating in response to the arrival of the Champion. She searched, but nothing seemed out of place. “Narro hath hoolo.”
The words passed her lips easily. Glyphs shone above her bundled chest, hovering over where the watch was underneath. A man with deep plum hair, bright green eyes, and a crescent scar on his cheek stood before her.
He appeared from a slowly rotating glyph that unraveled to carve his outline from the thin air. But when the light faded, he remained. In this place, with the power of Yargen in the very air, he was more real than ever.
“Good morning,” Taavin greeted her warmly, though the expression fell flat when his eyes settled on her. “What is it?”
“There was a man here.” Vi continued to look around, running her fingertips over the crystals, feeling the magic stored within them and searching for some sign of trauma.
“What kind of man?” Taavin asked, tone grave.
“I couldn’t see his face. He wore a simple woolen cloak of navy blue.”
“From the Capital?”
“He headed back in that direction. But I can’t say for sure.” Vi’s hand fell at her side. “I don’t know what he did here. I can’t feel anything different in the crystals.”
“Then whatever he did, it wasn’t anything significant.”
“It worries me, though, seeing someone come to the Caverns.”
The world had been quiet for the past fourteen years when it came to the Crystal Caverns. There had been a traveler only one other time—a Western man who arrived shortly after Fiera’s death—likely in search of the sword or evidence of what had transpired. Since then, it had been quiet. The sort of quiet that Vi had allowed to lull her into a false sense of security.
“Based on previous timelines, people tend to become interested in this place again around now,” Taavin said quietly, scanning the shimmering blue crystals.
“I know.” She had made Taavin tell her of the different iterations of the world time and again, over and over, until she knew many by heart. Vi looked down at the sword clutched in her hands. “That means there isn’t much time.”
“You’re close, and you know it.” Taavin rested his hand heavily on her shoulder. Every time she summoned him here, Vi savored the slightest of touches for how real they felt. “Perhaps today’s the day.”
“Perhaps,” Vi murmured.
Years ago, Raylynn, Zira’s daughter, had asked Vi to make her a crystal weapon. Her answer then had been no. But if the girl were to ask today… Vi’s answer would be different.
“I should get to work.” She stepped away from him and Taavin assumed his position not far from her, leaning against a crystal. His tall form cut against the light with an agonizing handsomeness that still, even after all this time, stirred desire within her.
Her need for him didn’t cool no matter how much she wanted it to. Seeing him like this would always be bittersweet. The truth of his nature was a barrier they’d never been able to surpass.
Focusing, Vi unsheathed the Sword of Jadar, set the scabbard aside, and held the hilt with both hands. She slowly lowered it and, when the very tip met the ground, a jolt of magic burst through the Caverns. The sword was made of crystals—the raw power of Yargen given physical form in the world—so its magic slotted in with the Caverns naturally.
Uncurling her fingers one by one, Vi pulled her hands away, holding them out. Magic arced like a cold, slow-burning fire between her palms and the weapon. She could feel it wrapped tightly around the backs of her fingers, trying to collapse in on itself and return to the sword. Vi twisted her wrists and lifted her hands upward. Her muscles strained, trembling, as though she were lifting a colossal weight.
But she made her mind calm and focused. She controlled this power—not the other way around. Turning her wrists inward once more, Vi felt the last dredges of power drain from the sword. The magic wrapped around her hands, but it almost felt as though it seeped into her. Making a cage with her fingers, she brought the magic together in a ball before her. It fought against her grasp, seeking freedom.
She continued to compress the magic, forcing it inward. The pale blue of raw magic became a blindingly bright light. Sweat dripped down her neck as she focused on condensing the magic.
Pop.
Blinking into the relative dimness, Vi stared at the crystal that hovered in an aura of seafoam blue between her hands. She had drawn the magic from the sword and condensed it down into a new crystal. She let out the breath she’d been holding. Vi hadn’t dared
breathe for the first part of the process.
Twisting her right hand so the crystal hovered just above her palm, Vi lifted her left.
Just as Fiera had done all those years ago, Vi tapped a nearby crystal jutting from the ground and beseeched the magic within. It came forth as she rotated her wrist with painstaking precision. Come along now, was her silent command. Magic spun out from the Caverns, condensing into glyphs with no meaning. Perhaps they were words, but neither Vi nor Taavin could read them. So if they had meaning, Yargen kept it hidden.
She poured the power into the crystal she held. The stone’s glow intensified, but it didn’t change shape or color. Yargen’s magic defied time and space. An immense amount of power could be held in a vessel as large as the Crystal Caverns, or as small as the palm of her hand.
The lights in the Caverns began to dim and Vi slowed the rotation of her hand through the air, slowing the draw of power. Two tethers stretched out from the crystal floating above her palm—one to the Caverns and one to the sword.
“Keep going,” Taavin commanded.
“What?” Here was where she usually stopped, allowing the magic to spill back into the dimming sword and Caverns.
“Just from the sword,” he clarified. “Not the Caverns. Collect all the power from the sword and transfer it to the stone.”
“But what if—”
“We do it all again, then.”
Do it all again. He didn’t mean today’s practice. He meant the whole cycle of time they were trapped in.
“No,” Vi whispered, mostly to herself. “We won’t.” This was to be their last time. She had vowed as much to herself, to the world, even if the world would never know it.
One way or another, this vortex would end.
Vi twisted her hand and severed the trembling thread of magic that connected the crystal in her palm to the sword, lifting it away. She watched as the last of the sword’s power was extracted.
The weapon transformed into obsidian as the power drained. Once the last dredges were removed, it fell to the floor and shattered into pieces. The magic once held within the sword now hovered above her palm.
“Now, return the power to the Caverns,” Taavin commanded.
Vi spun the crystal she’d made through the air, feeling the power unravel from it.
The magic didn’t need much guidance from her to return to the crystals surrounding it. Yargen’s magic naturally sought out its own. A phantom thread pulled through her. Magic that lingered on her palms was drawn away with the rest. All at once, the crystal hovering above her palm stopped spinning and fell. It had gone dark, just like the sword.
Vi stared at the obsidian around her feet, panting softly. She jerked her head upward. “The sword is gone.”
“Make a new one.”
“I’ve never made a sword.”
“You just made crystal. You’ll merely make it in a different shape this time.” Taavin pushed away from the stone he’d been leaning against, his preternatural casualness belying the tension thrumming through Vi like the reverberations of a lightning bolt.
Vi turned back to the nearest crystal jutting from the floor. It was nearly twice the size of her. She rested both hands on the sides of the stone. She’d chosen this path; she could do this. Yargen’s magic was around her, within her.
“Easy now, just as before,” she whispered.
Magic shimmered underneath her fingertips in response.
Once more, Vi pulled power from the stone. It was easier this time. If working with the sword was like drawing from a pond of magic, this was an ocean. She had much more to work with and the magic sought her out eagerly.
Stepping back, Vi repeated the process and drew out the magic by spreading her hands. Yargen’s raw essence shone brighter and brighter, the more she pulled. How much power had the sword held? She couldn’t remember. But she doubted anyone but her and Taavin would be able to tell if the new Sword of Jadar was weaker than the last.
Bringing her hands together, Vi watched as the magic condensed once more into a crystal. This time, she kept flooding the stone with power. Glyphs she didn’t recognize but inherently understood appeared within her mind: grow, change, shape. They were magic given form and tied to her will, forcing the stone to grow as she commanded. Crystals jutted out from that initial seed, becoming hilt and blade. In a blindingly bright minute, a new sword hovered in the air before her.
Taking the hilt in her hand, Vi pulled the blade from the magic forge in which she’d created it. The leftover power soaked back into the Caverns. Some lingered on the sword, flooding into her. As it sank into her bones, she felt a rush straight to the head.
Her thoughts spun dizzily until her attention settled on the weapon in her palm.
“It worked,” Vi whispered in awe. A theory, inspired by a five-year-old, supported only by the existence of some black stone that had surrounded Vi after Yargen’s magic had protected her once… she’d finally proved it right.
Chapter Two
Two arms circled her waist. Vi dropped the sword, startled. A yelp became laughter that echoed off the soaring ceiling of the Caverns as Taavin leaned back and lifted her feet off the ground to spin her in place.
“Put me down!” Vi managed through bursts of laughter. Her sides hurt, though she didn’t know if it was from his crushing grip or from laughing more than she had in what felt like years.
“You did it!” Taavin’s voice bounced off every crystal as he spun her once more before setting her down. He grabbed her face with both hands and brought his lips to hers. Vi savored the feeling of his breath, hot on her cheeks, and the warmth of his palms, even if it was all over too quickly. “You did it.”
“You helped a bit, along the way,” she said breathlessly when they broke apart.
“Just a bit though.” She couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or if he realized he’d been a monumental part of her success. Perhaps he was playing along with her jest. He continued, “It’s time for you to return yourself to the world and begin enacting this plan in earnest.”
“I know.” She’d known for years it was coming. But somehow part of her was still terrified. The truth was, she might never feel ready despite all her convictions. Perhaps that’s how it was when the fate of the world hung in the balance. “Walk back with me?” Vi asked, sheathing the new sword and starting for the entrance to the Caverns. “Deneya will need to hear our next steps, too—and she’s probably been back from Mosant for at least an hour.”
“You could always summon me when you return?” Taavin asked, though his footsteps matched hers. “It’s not as though you can’t summon me there.”
“I know.” She had used narro hath at the cabin two years ago. That night, she and Deneya had returned from Mosant, where they’d found a bottle of the same spiced liquor they drank together in Norin. Taavin had laughed and reminisced with them. He’d regaled them with tales of Vi’s former selves and worlds that were both similar and different.
But he couldn’t partake in the festivities, not really. He couldn’t drink with them. He couldn’t take her to bed as Vi had discovered she’d wanted.
Vi had never allowed herself to summon him there again. The torture of seeing him, wanting him, but not having him, was something she couldn’t regularly bear.
“Is it so much to ask to stroll with you?” she asked, pushing away the ache the thoughts left in her.
“I suppose not,” he said with a soft chuckle.
They emerged into the sunlight and magic instantly shimmered around Taavin’s shoulders. That magic was a reminder of what he really was. In the Caverns, he seemed like any other man. But he was consciousness tethered to a watch and held together by a goddess’s words.
Even still, when he offered her his elbow, she took it and ignored the sensation of a thin barrier between them. She ignored that his feet didn’t leave footprints in the snow. Vi pulled him close, and savored what already felt like one of the last peaceful moments they were going to have for a l
ong time.
Someday soon… I’ll make you real, Vi wanted to say, but the words remained a vow on her heart rather than lips.
She looked down at her hand, feeling the tingle of magic still underneath her fingers. Yargen had remade her body between worlds. The goddess’s power was within her—it sought her out. It was the same power that allowed Vi to manipulate the crystals. She was determined to continue exploring the seemingly endless possibilities of the magic. What kind of last-chance-to-save-the-world Champion would she be if she didn’t at least try to push the boundaries?
It took about an hour to walk back to the cabin. The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky. They didn’t say much, though they didn’t need to—just being together was enough.
Deneya was outside, just finishing covering their cart with a tarp to keep the snow off.
“About tim—oh, you’re here too.” Her eyes settled on Taavin. “Is that a good sign or a bad one?”
“I’ll let you decide,” he quipped in return.
“I had a breakthrough.”
“Did you do it? Did you transfer the power in full?” Deneya set down her axe. Vi nodded. “By Yargen’s flame, you actually did it!” The handle of the axe had barely fallen into the snow and Deneya was clapping Vi over the shoulders. “Well, this calls for a celebration. It’s a good thing I got the roast hare.”
“Thanks to Yargen for that.” Vi’s stomach growled as if on command.
“Come, tell me everything over food.” Deneya headed right for the cabin door, holding it open for Taavin. What Vi considered a feast was already set out on the table.
“You set the table,” she observed.
“And you say I never do anything nice for you.”
“You let the food get cold is what you did.” Vi grinned at Deneya as they sat across from each other. Taavin took his place at the foot of Vi’s bed.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, princess. Let me save you from your portion.” Deneya reached over to take her plate.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’m armed.” Vi brandished the knife that was set out by her fork.
