by Elise Kova
She pushed her feet harder into the earth as red lightning cracked once more, striking the forest ahead. Every leaping step she took had Vi’s free hand pressing into her side, where the flesh felt like it was tearing open anew. She was too freshly healed to be fighting and fleeing.
Taavin slowed. He was wheezing, too, his hand grasping at his shirt above his chest. Vi slowed her pace, looking back to the horses.
“Taavin, we—”
“I know,” he hissed. Glancing over his shoulder, he looked back at the horses quickly closing the gap between them. “Durroe watt radia. Durroe watt ivin.” He turned forward again, keeping close alongside her, the rings of light he’d summoned condensing around his finger. “Keep running, and don’t look back.”
Vi heeded his words, running with all she had. Taavin, for his part, managed to keep stride. But every five steps he seemed to stumble, then every three.
“Taavin—” She looked to his face with worry. His eyes were hazy and unfocused. Was he going to make it to the forest? What would happen if the Swords caught them?
“Keep, going,” he panted. “We’re almost there.”
As they ran, nearly at the trees, Taavin’s arm swung out, pointing. A tiny glyph still spiraled around his finger. Vi watched as a nearly identical copy of her and Taavin sprinted off at an angle.
An illusion.
The horses continued to charge, shifting course to chase after their fabricated copies. Taavin’s illusions vanished into thin air as the mounted men and women overtook them. One of the knights let out a cry of frustration as Vi and Taavin plunged into the welcoming embrace of the tree line, and into the dark unknown that was the Twilight Forest.
Chapter Three
The moment her feet hit the mossy, wet earth of the forest, Vi moved faster.
She’d grown up in the jungles of Shaldan, spending her childhood leaping and swinging from branch to branch. The feeling of damp brush and leaves under her feet, the sounds of rain muffled by the leafy canopy—its familiarity was a balm to her panic. She felt more comfortable with trees above and around her than she had in months in the desert and open sea.
There had been a road that led into the forest, but her and Taavin continued to ignore it. Instead, he struck out between the trees. From the corners of her eyes, Vi watched him move. Since entering the forest, her footing had become surer, while his stumbles were happening with greater frequency.
Taavin didn’t even so much as glance her way. His face was etched with a fierce determination that unnerved her. Not just because she’d never seen the expression on his features—but because she was afraid of what would happen when that expression vanished. It was the look of a man who was going to run himself until his body gave out. She took a half step closer to him so she’d be there if he fell.
Vi glanced back, looking to where the riders had been. The rainclouds had blotted out the moon, leaving them very little light to see by. She found herself hoping for the cracks of the ominous red lightning to catch a quick glimpse of the knights or Fallor, but there was no such luck and she didn’t dare summon a fire.
With every winded breath, the ache in her side ran deeper. Vi pressed a hand into the still-healing wound, wondering how recently Taavin had ripped it open. The pain seemed to spread, shooting straight up into her head.
“Taavin—”
“I know.” He slowed his pace, chest heaving with panting breaths. He was faring no better than she. “Looks like I was right…”
“About what?”
“None of them will dare to come into the Twilight Forest,” he wheezed, slumping against a tree. Vi was ready, reaching out to support him. But the moment her hand brushed feather-light against his side, he winced and let out a long hiss.
“Your ribs.” Vi pulled her hands away, looking at the place Fallor had made contact. “Let me see.”
“Let’s get out of the rain first. We may be able to find shelter closer to the cliffs—an overhang, perhaps.”
They pressed onward, albeit at a slower pace. Vi was soon dragging her feet and Taavin was leaning against every other tree to catch his breath.
“We have to stop. We’re not going to make it much longer.” She scanned their surrounds for options.
Ahead, the trees gave way for a small stream. Vi looked up and downstream, searching for any sign of Fallor or the Swords. But there was none. In fact, they seemed to be the only life in the forest, the world still other than the whisper of water. Taavin took a step down onto the slick rocks.
“Be careful.” Vi quickly leapt to his side. Her arm wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him to her and stabilizing him.
“You’re sure-footed.”
“I grew up in a jungle, remember?” Vi helped him across to the giant boulders she assumed he was heading toward.
Just as Taavin had suspected—or hoped—the terrain had become rockier the closer they got to the cliffs that met the sea. The banks of the stream became giant boulders that jutted out from the earth. Downstream, Vi could see more rocks than trees.
They made their way toward one particularly large outcropping, a dark gap betraying a space just wide enough for them to squeeze through.
“In here?” Vi asked.
“It’s the best I’ve seen and we should get out of the rain.”
“Let me go first and make sure there’s enough room.” Vi guided him toward one of the two giant boulders on either side of the opening, stepping away from his side only when she was certain he was stable enough to stand on his own.
Squeezing herself into the opening, Vi tip-toed into the dark before allowing a small flame to kindle above her palm. The passage grew so narrow, she was certain she’d have to give up and turn back. But the flame illuminated a more open space ahead, and somehow she managed to twist the curves of her hips in just the right way to pop through with only a small wince.
Sure enough, it was a small cave, formed by four massive rocks leaning against each other. It would barely be large enough for the two of them—but it was dry and certainly well hidden.
It’d do.
“Come on in,” Vi called back. “I think there’s enough room.”
Taavin appeared as he side-stepped between the rocks. Vi reached out, offering a hand and helping him through the rest of the way. He emerged with a sigh of relief, immediately leaning against the rocky wall opposite, hand splayed on his chest where Fallor had used his body as a springboard.
“Sit, and let me see,” Vi repeated her earlier demand.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, as if pain wasn’t written on his face in large, block letters.
“Quit being stubborn.”
He finally obliged her, sinking down the wall until he was seated. His legs extended until his toes hit the opposite wall, knees bent. Vi crouched at his side, twisting until she found a way to somehow sit comfortably and not be in his lap at the same time.
Her hands paused at the hem of his shirt, the fabric still slick with rain and clinging to every curve of his muscle. Vi raised her eyes slowly to his.
“May I?” she whispered.
“Go ahead.” The words were stronger than hers, but far from what she’d call confident. He was as nervous as she was. This was uncharted territory for them both.
She wasn’t undressing him. Well, she was. But not really. It was for medical reasons.
Her racing thoughts had her heart matching pace as she slowly lifted the shirt, exposing the tan skin beneath. His flesh was bumpy, thanks to the chill of the cave and the exposed damp. Vi continued to ignore the cut curves of his muscles and the line of hair trailing down to and underneath his trousers—an easy task the moment her eyes landed on his ribcage.
“Oh, Taavin…” she breathed.
He winced as her fingers lightly brushed the deep bruising that splotched his skin. “It’s that bad?”
“It looks like you had a small mountain crush you.” Vi lowered the shirt slowly. “I’ve used halleth before but—”
Vi narrowed her eyes slightly. She’d been about to say the same thing. But that didn’t mean she appreciated him beating her to the punch. As if reading her mind, he wheezed laughter.
“I could tell.” Taavin hid a wince between his words. The fight and flight had stolen their focus from their injuries and ailing bodies; it seemed that the pain was settling in on him now, just like she hadn’t noticed her aches until they’d slowed their pace in the woods. “The wounds that had been inflicted on you—you tried to heal them with halleth—it was clumsily done. The skin was all knotted and scarred in a way that was going to give you trouble long-term. I was forced to rip them back open and set them correctly.”
That confirmed her suspicions about why she still ached so badly.
“I was learning on the run,” Vi said defensively. “We haven’t had a chance to go over halleth yet. And Firebearing doesn’t cover any kind of healing other than cauterizing wounds.”
“You’re alive—that means you did more than enough,” he said, trying to soothe. “With Fallor on your tail, I assume those wounds were from Adela?”
Vi gave a small nod, lips pursed.
“What happened to you on the way here?” he asked, daring to ask the question that must have been on his mind since he found her on the beach. “I spoke with you on that balcony not more than—”
“Two, three, maybe four weeks ago,” Vi murmured. It felt like a lifetime to her as well. Being unconscious for a large chunk of that time certainly didn’t help.
“Something has changed since then.”
He was right. Something had changed. Jayme’s betrayal had awoken a darkness in her that Vi worried she’d never be free of.
“Vi, what is it?” he asked softly, emerald eyes shining in the firelight. Did hers shine as brightly? Or had they dulled with the dust of the long road she’d traveled?
“It’s nothing.” Besides being trapped in the dark prison of my thoughts. “It took a lot to get here. That’s all.”
He opened his mouth to speak again and Vi knew what he was going to ask. He’d want details. He’d probe for information she wasn’t ready to give. Those events were still lost in the depths of the black waters sloshing in the hole in her chest.
“It seems to have been the same for you,” Vi countered. His turn to look away. “The Swords of Light, the strong arm of the Faithful, are after you?”
“Led by Lord Ulvarth, no less.”
“Their leader?”
“Yes. Knight of the Sun. Lord of the Faithful. Beloved by Yargen. Sole attendant to the Voice.” Taavin enumerated Ulvarth’s titles, each more bitter than the last.
“That’s a mouthful… Not that I’m one to talk.” Taavin gave a small grin at her jest, one he quickly abandoned. “He was there, wasn’t he?”
“He was,” Taavin said. “At the front.” The firelight danced on his skin, casting long shadows. For a man who was filled with the power of light, darkness seemed to love him.
“They want to bring you back to the Archives of Yargen, don’t they?”
“As soon as they can. I don’t think it’s public knowledge that I’ve escaped yet. If word gets out, Ulvarth stands to lose his rank and title—or the people’s faith, at the very least.”
She was slowly piecing together the parts of Taavin’s life from bits of information he’d dropped like breadcrumbs in a vast forest. A man who was the head of a holy order—who’d ordained the Queen of Meru by his hand. But a puppet for others, a captive to keep under control so that Ulvarth could have power over arguably the strongest organization on Meru.
Her heart ached for him as her blood boiled with rage at the Lord of the Faithful.
“Why does Adela want you? Because you’re a Solaris?”
At the mere mention of Adela, Vi’s midsection ached. “The elfin’ra have put a bounty out for me,” Vi answered simply.
“And Adela will capitalize on anything, even the end of the world.” Taavin cursed under his breath.
She’d even capitalize on the lonely heart of a gullible princess, Vi thought bitterly. But she kept her mouth shut.
“Vi, what is it?” Taavin’s palm cupped her cheek, summoning Vi’s attention back once more from the demons lurking in her heart. “Let me help you,” he said gently.
“You’ve done enough.” It was her turn to take care of him now. And Vi didn’t want to give Jayme another thought or word. Doing so felt like letting the traitor win. “We should plan our next move. You have Lord Ulvarth after you, and I have Fallor—Adela by extension—after me. It’s a lot to deal with.”
“Our next move is to wait.” Taavin shifted, wincing again as his hand fell from her face. Vi caught it, not wanting to let go his warmth just yet. She felt far too cold on the inside to lose his touch.
“We have to keep moving. We’re not safe here.”
“This is the one place we have a chance to be safe,” he insisted.
“Why?” Vi remembered his mention that they wouldn’t “dare” follow them into the forest.
“Because we’re in the Twilight Forest, which is under the protection of the Twilight Kingdom.”
“Twilight Kingdom?” Vi repeated.
“The Twilight Kingdom is inhabited by the morphi, those who command the power of the shift.”
Twilight Kingdom. Morphi. The shift. Her head was spinning, trying to take in all the new information at once. “What’s the power of the shift? Is that another discipline of magic on Meru—like Lightspinning?”
Taavin’s eyes fluttered closed a moment as he took a shallow breath. He looked exhausted and Vi knew she should let him rest. But it was hard to do that when information that might keep them alive hung on his tongue.
“It is. But I admit… I don’t know much. The shift is a forbidden topic for the Faithful.”
“What makes it forbidden?”
“You saw the markings on Fallor’s brow?” he asked. She nodded, remembering the glowing dots that he’d covered with grease paint when she’d first met him. “Those are the mark of the morphi. The Faithful teach that they—the morphi—are turning their backs on Yargen by anchoring themselves in the twilight—neither darkness or light. Because of this altered existence, they can shift reality—which is an affront to Yargen’s goodness.”
“That sounds like a more religious than logical reason.”
“It likely is.” Taavin let out a soft sigh, eyelids drooping. “As I said, I know little of this power. Only the morphi possess it, and they guard the secrets of the shift with their lives.”
“Is it because of the shift that Fallor can become an eagle?” Vi asked. “He’s shifting the reality of himself—his nature—into that of an eagle?”
“That is my understanding, yes. Physical change is just one of their skills. They can also distort or break Lightspinning magic.”
“That’s what he did in the field, to break your illusion?”
“Yes.”
“So how does this Twilight Kingdom protect us, if Fallor is one of them?” Vi kept her focus on the pressing matter of their survival rather than any questions on magical theory.
“He’s a morphi… but the Twilight Kingdom holds no love for him. He’s a famous exile from their lands, forbidden from entering their territory.”
“And the Faithful won’t follow us into the forests because the shift magic is anathema to them?” Dislike of the morphi still seemed an arbitrary and ill-founded prejudice, but if it protected them, she wouldn’t complain too much about it.
“More or less.”
“Can we seek refuge in the Twilight Kingdom?”
“No, we’ll rest here until I can recover.” Taavin rested a hand lightly on his ribs. “Which may be some time since we’ve lost the contents of my trunk.”
“Sorry…” Vi muttered. It had gone up in smoke with the rest of the shack.
“It’s all right. I didn’t have much left anyway after traveling for a good week.”
“If we can’t seek refuge, can we at least restock in the Kingdom?” She couldn’t blame Taavin for wanting to keep a low profile, given who he was. But surely she could at least go and get what they needed?
“No. The Kingdom is protected by an impenetrable shift. Even if you could get through… you shouldn’t.”
“But I can—”
“The enemies of our enemies are not our friends in this case. Neither of us should venture to interact with anyone from the Twilight Kingdom.” He spoke as though it were a declaration. Vi bristled at the tone but didn’t object. He knew far more about Meru and its nuances than she.
“Why would they have a reason to be hostile to us?”
“For the same reason that I will not heal myself with halleth… The feeling of hatred is mutual between the Faithful and the morphi. If they sense Lightspinning in their lands, we will be hunted. We conceal ourselves here in body and in magic.”
Which meant they weren’t really safe at all. Vi turned toward the narrow entrance they’d squeezed through. The rain still pounded outside, perhaps intent on raising the water in the small stream and flooding them out like two rats. In the distance, thunder rolled.
“Raspian is getting stronger…” Taavin mumbled, his eyes finally closing for slumber. “The end of the world is drawing near.”
Vi remained silent, allowing Taavin to slip off to sleep.
She didn’t bother worrying him with the fact that this was the second time she’d seen red lightning.
Chapter Four
The first thing Vi felt was the reassuring warmth of someone next to her.
The soft dripping of the cave filled her ears. Wet plops thrummed a rhythm underneath the echoes of the quietly babbling stream that ran by the entrance. The world was far quieter than when she’d gone to sleep.
Vi slowly opened her eyes, her attention drawn immediately to the man at her side. The gray light washed out his features and darkened his hair nearly to black. It clung with grime and sweat around his face, the natural waves of it almost clumping into curls. Slowly, Vi raised a hand, lightly pushing his hair away from his eyes.
