by Elise Kova
“Anything, fair maiden.”
“I heard a rumor you found the treasure. Is it true?”
Fear flooded his blue eyes. “I—”
“I’m sorry. Even if you had… I know, you can’t say.” Vi physically took a step back as she distanced herself from the topic. Baldair relaxed visibly. “I only thought of it now because of a story my grandmother told me when I was a girl.”
“A story?”
“A tale of a vortex, of circles, of things repeating time after time—life and death, suffering and sacrifice, all hung in this vortex,” her voice went soft and ominous. Baldair hung on every word. “She said there was one relic that could stop this vicious cycle of pain. It was the crown of the first Solaris king, bestowed on the true ruler of this land. That true king could command any loyalty, even loyalty from fate. He could bend destiny to his command.”
His eyes widened slightly.
“Though, knowing granny… they were nothing more than stories from her softening mind.” Vi shrugged and gave him a conspiratorial smile. “I merely thought, if such a power does exist… that you, a man of honor, would be the one I would want to wield it.” She paused, allowing him to be enamored with her words for one more long moment. “If you did find it, then perhaps it’s your destiny to use that power and save us all from war itself.”
Baldair continued to stare at her before quickly plastering on a fake smile. “It’s a wonderful story indeed. But I’m afraid you’re right about it being nothing more than a story.”
“No doubt. Now, is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, thank you. My stomach insists on food in short order.” He laughed lightly as they reentered the main room.
“We were getting worried.” Craig’s tone was the exact opposite of the sentiment.
“I gladly return him to you.” Vi gave a bow.
“Gladly?” Baldair balked.
“Gladly.” She winked and Craig and Daniel roared with laughter. “Excuse me, my lords.”
Vi stepped out of the room and practically bounced down the hall. She’d put the crown in his mind, and Baldair would feel the need to go and check on it, if nothing else. But perhaps he’d also want to test if her words were true.
The prince was going to lead her to the crown. Now, all she had to do was—
She stopped in her tracks.
Victor crossed the main atrium, oblivious to her presence, and headed up to the Imperial quarters. Vi didn’t know what business he had with the Emperor. But whatever it was, she could be certain of one thing: it wasn’t good.
Chapter Twenty-Five
She was being irrational.
There was no reason to think Victor’s mere presence was a foul omen. Perhaps, when the Emperor returned, he summoned all the ministers one by one to give him updates on happenings in the palace. That seemed just as logical as the next thing.
Logical.
But not accurate.
In the years she’d traversed this world, across time and back, Vi had learned to trust her gut. More often than not, it was right. Sometimes, she had the wrong response—but the gut had the right sense.
Vi gripped the golden banister, staring up the staircase that led to the highest point of the palace. Without a second thought, she continued onward. Her brain tried to wander. The stubborn organ wanted to daydream about her parents living here and her being a girl, in this palace, rushing to meet them—all the trimmings of the happy childhood she never had.
Vi pushed away the thoughts and kept herself in the moment as she entered the Emperor’s chambers behind another servant.
“Victor,” Tiberus said from a nearby room. Vi followed the flow of servants and staff into an open antechamber, where the Emperor stood among weaponry and military fanfare. “You know I am very busy right now with the festival starting soon.”
Victor’s visit wasn’t expected, then.
Vi kept her head angled away as she rounded the room to Tiberus. She held her breath as she accepted a piece of ornate plate from one of the servants undressing the Emperor, much as she had done for Baldair minutes ago. Tiberus didn’t even so much as glance her way.
“I know, my lord.” Victor’s voice was deeper than she remembered it. He was still a boy in her mind. But the person before her now had the gaze of a man who’d set his sights on a prize. “But you told me to come to you with the results of my research on your future campaigns.”
“Give that here,” a woman hissed at her.
“Sorry,” Vi mumbled.
Two blue eyes met hers. The woman tilted her head. “I don’t know you.”
“I’m new,” Vi said hastily, turning away and going back for another piece of plate. She kept her focus on the conversation.
“You have found something useful?” Tiberus continued.
“Very useful. But tell me first, where is your eldest son now?” Victor said with a gleeful note. Vi was shocked he wasn’t bouncing on his heels.
The Emperor turned to face the minister and arched a single brow. “Leave us,” he commanded.
Servants filed out of the room with their heads down. Vi had no choice but to follow or be discovered. She trailed toward the end though, letting others go before her so she could listen as the Emperor continued to speak.
“Were it not for your manner, I would presume he would be making the necessary preparations for our court dinner for the start of the festival of the sun.”
Vi rounded the corner as Victor said, “What do you know of the common girl named Vhalla Yarl?”
She barely resisted the urge to charge back. Pushing away the memories and daydreams of her own creation was one thing. Vi could keep herself focused. But hearing her mother’s name on this man’s tongue lit the spark in her like nothing had in years.
She’s not your mother.
Vi knew that. She did. But the fire in her gut did not.
“Vhalla Yarl?” Tiberus repeated. “The name is not familiar. I usually make little effort to remember the names of the lowborn.”
Vi continued to hover just outside the doorway. She folded her hands and kept her eyes forward. She was as still as a statue, even while the spark was an inferno within her.
“He has not sent one report to you about her? I’m sure it just slipped Aldrik’s mind.” Victor paused and Vi could almost imagine his wicked grin widening. “I am sure her name will be well known by you soon enough.”
“Why?” Tiberus asked cautiously.
“Your son is with her now.”
Why was Victor doing this? Vi kept her thoughts level. Was this to spite Aldrik out of a vendetta he’d long held against the prince for being the magical favorite? Or could it be more?
Victor knew by now that Vhalla was a Windwalker. Taavin’s reports on the whisperings of the Tower had told Vi that much. All the sorcerers of the palace were abuzz with the presumed presence of a Windwalker.
If Victor was mentioning Vhalla to the Emperor, it could mean that he was trying to convince Tiberus to go hunting crystal weapons now that they had a Windwalker in their pocket. Victor was trying to make Tiberus the next Jadar, and convince him to use Windwalkers to get the crystals.
Vi had to switch the crown as soon as possible.
“Aldrik?” Surprise was apparent in Tiberus’s voice. “Aldrik is not one to fraternize with—”
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” The blue-eyed woman was back, grabbing her elbow and yanking Vi away from where she hovered in the doorway.
“I was waiting to see if the Emperor needed anything,” Vi said, wrenching her arm away.
The woman’s fingers snapped back around Vi’s arm and she yanked again. They were back in the main room. Several curses nearly flew off Vi’s tongue. Cursing the woman was better than splitting her in half. “You were eavesdropping.”
“I was not.”
“Foul girl!” The woman was a blur as she slapped Vi. She blinked, dazed. Vi had taken worse strikes, but this one was utterly unexp
ected and caught her off-guard. “I know what it looks like when one of your ilk is eavesdropping. It’s why I don’t have the likes of you up here.”
“The likes of me?” Vi rubbed her cheek. Clearly, this woman was the mother hen of the Imperial domain. She’d been lucky not to run into her sooner.
Her eyes raked over Vi. “Dirty shoes. Windswept hair. Basic robes. Tell me and tell me honestly, were you appointed up here today or is this some clever little attempt to see the Emperor and his family up close and personal?”
“I was appointed,” Vi said. As if anyone would be honest in this situation.
“If you’re lying, I will have the guards cut out your tongue and hang it with the laundry.”
“The guards won’t do that,” Vi blurted before she could stop herself. The woman only seethed further.
“Tell me who appointed you and you won’t have to find out what the guards will and won’t do.”
“I was appointed by—”
“She was appointed by me,” Victor said from the entrance to the Emperor’s personal armory. “She’s attending me today, to assist me in getting ready for the Imperial events this evening.”
“Minister.” The woman stepped away from Vi and bowed her head. “I am compelled to regretfully inform you that I caught her listening in—”
“Surely you were mistaken,” Victor interrupted in a tone as icy as his magic. “She is one of my most loyal servants in this palace.” He approached her. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, my lord,” Vi ground out, bowing her head.
“Good, come along then.” Victor started for the door and Vi was helpless to do anything other than follow. She kept a few steps behind him on the stairs. Magic sizzled on her fingers, on her tongue. Even though there was a good distance between them, she felt ensnared; she was looking for the most immediate escape. Victor startled her when he spoke. “They hate us.”
She kept silent, which forced him to glance over his shoulder.
“They hate us, sorcerers, because they don’t understand. And what they don’t understand, they fear. And what they fear, they seek to snuff out of this world.” She pursed her lips, letting him soliloquize to his heart’s content. “But I’m not like them. I do not fear what I don’t understand.” He reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped, turning to face her. Vi looked down at him, remaining a few steps away. “I do not understand what you are. But I do not fear you.”
“You should,” Vi whispered ominously.
A smirk cracked his lips. “No… you’re like me, just a few steps ahead on this journey, aren’t you?”
“More than a few.” Vi’s chest tightened to the point of quivering. He saw her. Somehow, out of everyone, Victor had been the one to see right through her. He could see she wasn’t like the rest. Until now, Taavin had been the only one to peer into the corners of her that no one else could see. Vi hated that Victor, of all people, would be the second to do so.
Let him see your sharp edges, a voice whispered to her. Let him see you have achieved what he can only dream of—an evolution from the shell of humanity that holds him back.
Vi’s hand tightened around the banister.
“As far as I’m concerned, you work with me, or you are against me.” He took a few steps back, giving her additional space. Vi didn’t move. “The choice is yours.”
At that moment, Baldair emerged from the side hall, nearly stumbling right into Victor. “Oof—Excuse me, Minister!”
“The excuse lies with me.” Victor took a step to the side and Vi saw the mask of a kindly sage slip over his features with the deftness of an actor’s well-practiced costume change. “I shouldn’t get in the way of determined princes.”
“I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Baldair shook his head and his gaze met Vi’s. She held it. He backed away as though he were staring down a monster.
“Is everything all right, my prince?” Victor glanced between her and Baldair.
“Yes, of course!” Baldair chuckled. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me… I have a bottle of wine I’ve been saving for something special and I think the festival celebrations will be just that occasion.” He retreated quickly and Vi descended the last of the stairs with forced slowness, not wanting to look like she was ready to race after him, even if she was.
“Even the prince fears you on instinct,” Victor said to her in whispered awe, so that none of the servants passing them would hear. “I’m right. You are the woman from all those years ago.”
Vi glanced at him from the corners of her eyes. So many had written off her similarity to a young woman they’d once met to faulty memory. Just a bit of insistence, and her agelessness had thrown them off her trail. But not Victor.
“I know you are.” He took a step forward. “I feel your magic. It is the same.”
“You cannot comprehend what I am. My being was not made for a mind like yours.” The words resonated from deep within and Vi followed their will on instinct.
“It’s the crystals, isn’t it? They gave you this power. They have made you ageless.” He stepped forward, encroaching on her personal space and staring down at her. “What else do they enable you to do?”
“More than you could possibly know,” Vi sneered up at him. She turned to leave.
“Help me find them. Work with me. I am not Egmun. I will be a willing student.”
Vi froze, then slowly turned to face him once more. “I would see this world burn again before I worked with you,” she whispered.
The man before her was nothing more than an extremely gifted sorcerer. He had a sordid history. He had experienced triumphs and pitfalls, most of which Vi didn’t understand.
He was as flawed as any other human and just as capable of great and wonderful deeds.
Except in Vi’s world, this man had murdered the people she called family. In Vi’s world, he’d nearly cost her parents everything… just as he had in various ways across every other world, according to Taavin’s recollections.
This man wasn’t a stone in the river. He was a glacier, cold and unfeeling. That was how she would treat him.
“Then it is to be war between us,” he whispered ominously and, for one brief second, Vi wondered if this moment had been an opportunity to guide him into more than the hateful man she had always heard him to be. Was it her insistence that he was wicked that pushed his wickedness over the edge?
“It has always been war.” Vi put her back to him and strode out of the Imperial quarters. Her feet were hasty beneath her, but her head was held high. This wasn’t a retreat. She was keeping two steps ahead of him.
Two became four.
Four became six.
She slipped into the back passages and began to run. Vi sprinted through the darkness, into the depths of the palace, keeping in a scream.
Though what she longed to scream about, she didn’t quite know.
Vi slowed her feet and took a breath. She side-stepped behind a tapestry and emerged in a hall that led to the wine cellars. The soft clank of a lock disengaging in the distance caught her attention.
So, Baldair really was heading to the cellars.
“Durroe watt radia,” Vi breathed and felt invisibility slip over her as she moved forward. “Durroe sallvas tempre.” A glyph wrapped around her other wrist, masking the echo of her footsteps.
Light danced on the barreled ceiling ahead as Vi emerged into a large, underground wine cave. The walls on all sides, three floors down, were lined with casks. Most seemed new and well-tended. But farther down, the shelves became cluttered with cobwebs and caked in dust.
At the bottom floor, the barrels were locked in vaults. The wine was kept prisoner down here, most likely for its own safety. Some vintages had been exclusive to the Solaris family for generations. One bottle could be worth a fortune.
Baldair stood by a vault in the far corner. He held a torch in his hand and peered through the bars into the inky blackness.
“It’s safe,” he murmured. “No one has
come for it.”
Vi walked over, standing behind him, just far enough away that he wouldn’t feel her breath on his shoulder. She followed the prince’s gaze to the bottom left corner. The cask there looked like any of the others. Vi wouldn’t have thought anything was different about it if not for the prince’s sole focus on one, single barrel.
“And no one will use it,” Baldair said firmly, walking away. The light of his torch retreated with him, enveloping her in darkness. Vi watched as that mote of flame danced all the way up along the walkways and out the entry high above.
“You’re the wisest of them all,” she whispered.
Baldair likely didn’t even understand what the crown truly was. But he did understand that some powers were not meant for mortal hands. She pulled the iron key from her pocket and slotted it into the lock on the vault door.
It fit perfectly.
Vi extended her sallvas glyph to envelop the whole vault as she unlocked the door. Iron on iron squealed loudly as she swung open the bars. But Baldair was none the wiser, if he was even still close enough to hear at all.
She knocked on the barrels. Sure enough, the one in the lower corner sounded hollow. With a grunt and brute force, she pulled out the barrel. It was lighter than a wine cask should be and there was no sloshing liquid within. The top was nailed on clumsily, as if it had been removed once by an unskilled hand.
“Juth calt.” Glyphs flared around the nails, splintering the wood. Pale blue light washed over her face as Vi peered down into the barrel. Her pulse quickened; her breath hitched. She reached forward without hesitation, like reaching for a lover, a child, a part of herself that had been missing for eons.
Her fingers closed around the crown. The light brightened in intensity until the world went white.
She stood in a room beyond time. It was blindingly bright, yet she could see perfectly. Heat washed over her, but she was quickly cooled by unseen breezes.
A window was cut from the brightness. Vi looked through it, out onto the greatest map she’d ever seen. Hills and valleys rolled into plains and mountains. All kinds of people occupied these lands, making them their own. Cultivating them with the magic she’d bestowed on them.
