Crystal Crowned [ARC] (36 page)

Read Crystal Crowned [ARC] Online

Authors: Elise Kova

Tags: #Air Awakens, #Elise Kova, #Silver Wing Press, #Fantasy, #Young Adult

BOOK: Crystal Crowned [ARC]
13.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Vhalla kept her mouth silent. A wolf was not a dog because you called it so. But she would give her husband hope, even if she couldn’t share it. Vhalla closed her eyes and gave herself to his reassurances. She hoped that by morning she could actually believe them.

CHAPTER 27

“Victor.” The Emperor Tiberus Solaris was removing his plate with the assistance of various servants. He stood in an open space with polearms displayed on the walls, their points still sharpened and oiled. The tiling was vaguely familiar, white marble laid at a diamond pattern. “You know I am very busy right now with the festival starting soon.”

“I know, my lord,” the Minister of Sorcery acknowledged with a bow. “But you told me to come to you with the results of my research on your future campaigns.”

“You have found something useful?” The Emperor looked at Victor through his reflection in a large mirror. His arms held straight out, the help had almost finished removing the many layers of complex plate that made up his ceremonial armor.

“Very useful.” Victor struggled to keep the apparent glee from curling his mouth. “But tell me first, where is your eldest son now?”

The Emperor turned to the minister and arched a single brow. Victor smiled calmly. It was a smug little look that breathed of arrogance and assurance. It was a bold front to put before the late-Emperor Solaris, and one people only did when they were certain that the information they possessed outweighed any potential ire.

“Leave us,” the Emperor ordered, his eyes focused on Victor. The servants cleared the room on command. Dressed down to just pants and a thick cotton tunic, the Emperor took a step toward Victor, regarding him carefully. “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.”

There was a long moment of silence while Victor clearly weighed his options for how to proceed. “What do you know of the common girl named Vhalla Yarl?”

“Vhalla Yarl?” The Emperor shook his head. “The name is not familiar. I usually make little effort to remember the names of the lowborn.”

“He has not sent one report to you about her?” Victor stroked his goatee thoughtfully. He made a show of speaking to himself. “I’m sure it just slipped Aldrik’s mind.”

The Emperor’s expression changed momentarily at Victor’s words. The royal had taken the bait.

“I am sure her name will be well known by you soon enough,” Victor assured.

“Why?” the Emperor asked cautiously.

“Your son is with her now,” Victor reported triumphantly.

“Aldrik?” The Emperor seemed genuinely surprised, but quickly waved it off. “Aldrik is not one to fraternize with common folk. I try not to get in the way of his amusements when it comes to playing his mind games with them. Keeps a healthy amount of fear in those beneath our notice.”

“If anything, she has played a mind game on him.” Victor’s tone turned serious, not wanted to heed the obvious dismissal of the topic. “Every time he comes to me, he inquires after her well-being. He trained her personally. He carried her to me following an incident, cradled in his arms and begged me to help her. He races to her side at every possible moment. We both know he has previously made some less than ideal choices off the lower rungs of society.”

“I am not worried about a child.” The Emperor folded his hands behind his back and leisurely strolled over to a window, looking over his city. “If she is a problem, I will remove her like . . . Oh, what was her name?”

“Inad?” Victor finished easily.

Vhalla recognized the name of Aldrik’s first love.

“Yes, her.” The Emperor nodded. “I appreciate your diligence now, like then, Victor, but I am not worried. Now, I think this conversation—”

“This girl is able to give you the means to conquer the Crescent Continent,” Victor interjected quickly.

“What?” The Emperor turned in place, too invested in Victor’s words to be upset by the interruption.

“That’s why I thought Aldrik would tell you. I realize you’ve been keeping your overseas visions from him, but I thought he would tell you for the sake of taking the North.” Victor sighed heavily and pressed his fingers against his temple. “But he’s so protective of the girl.”

“You have found me a Windwalker.” The Emperor’s words were nearly reverent, his excitement palpable. Then his expression darkened. “Why would my son keep this from me?”

“Harnessing the true usefulness of her power, at the least, will require her enslavement. If not her death.” Victor shrugged, as though the thought was nothing to him.

“Aldrik, my idiot son with his mother’s heart.” The Emperor sighed heavily. “Thank you for telling me this. I will have the girl conscripted into service.”

“If I may advise you . . .” The Emperor motioned for Victor to continue. “Be patient. The two are fire and air. Aldrik can be untamed, as you know, and she can barely control her magic at present. I think there will come an opportunity for you to use her to your advantage.”

“Or I will see one made,” the Emperor remarked. “Victor, I am thankful to have such loyal servants such as yourself. It is a refreshing change from my last Minister of Sorcery.”

“There is one more thing, my lord,” Victor added, his eyes shining with manipulation. “One more thing; to make her truly the key to your conquest across the sea, I will need something from the North to unlock the caverns.”

“A small price for what you promise. I will see that we acquire what you need.”

“It is a treasure of Yargen, of the variety Egmun procured—an axe made of crystal. If I have it, I will see that you witness the true power of the caverns.” Victor barely hid his giddiness, even as his words held more than one meaning.

“Consider it done. And report back to me with any further knowledge you gain on the girl . . . and my son.”

“Of course, I am nothing if not your most obedient servant.” A mad grin spread triumphantly across Victor’s face the second he’d turned away from the Emperor.

 

That expression, the wicked glee, was what Vhalla woke to. She didn’t wake screaming or thrashing, but her whole body ached, and her head hurt as though she’d run a marathon in her sleep. The sun had yet to rise, and the canvas above her was a hazy and dull blue. Aldrik’s arm wrapped around her middle, and, judging from his deep and steady breathing, Vhalla knew he had yet to stir.

Vhalla didn’t wake him. She stayed still and quiet, trying to dissect the dream. She turned it over in her mind and picked it apart. Victor had played them all. He played on their hatred of each other, their distance. He knew Aldrik well enough to know that the prince would never fully trust his father. He knew the Emperor didn’t think Aldrik ready for his plans for the Crescent Continent.

Aldrik didn’t want to use the word “Bond” to describe what had happened between her and Victor, but Vhalla could offer no other alternative. She was Bonded to Victor. She had him within her. The madman, the monster who had stolen her magic. Vhalla was deeply connected with the one person in the world she truly wanted to kill.

Jax’s suggestion echoed within her. Perhaps if she could manipulate the Bond, she could help them with the knowledge she could glean, with the powers she gained over the crystals.

With the sun, Vhalla began to feel a rise in other emotions, a dark sea that raged in the back of her mind stirring to life. She rolled away from Aldrik, unable to endure his tender touch a moment longer.

“Vhalla?” he mumbled, pawing at the empty space she left.

“Go back to sleep,” she demanded quietly. “There’s still time yet.”

Aldrik opened a single dark eye, looking up at her skeptically.

Vhalla forced a smile onto her lips. When he still seemed insistent, she rested a palm on his shoulder. “Just the bathroom,” she lied.

How far she had come
. She, the library girl who was notorious for being a bad liar, was believed by the silver-tongued prince. Aldrik closed his eye and mumbled something about her coming back soon. Vhalla tugged on her chainmail and left him, hoping he could endure the disappointment of discovering her absence.

A barren land greeted her. The bloodshed from the previous day was still visible in the distance. Carrion birds picked at the remnants. Vhalla turned her eyes away from it and looked southward. That would only be a small portion of the destruction she’d reap. She’d turn Victor’s power against him and take the world from under his feet.

She stood staring at the destruction before her until people began to stir.

Aldrik said nothing about her morning walk as they rode. He attempted to strike up various conversations with her, but none sparked, and he was left talking around her to Jax or Fritz. Elecia was equally quiet, her eyes heavy on Vhalla.

But Vhalla ignored them all. She kept her eyes trained on the great, distant horizon that she suspected would be her final battle field.

They marched through lunch into the afternoon, finally striking camp at dinnertime.

Vhalla sat at their shared campfire for a few moments as everyone eagerly dug into their portions. She passed her meat from hand to hand, and then passed it off to Jax. The man regarded her with concern but didn’t say anything.

“You hardly ate,” Aldrik said when she stood.

“Not hungry.”

“Where are you going, Vhal?” Fritz asked from across the campfire.

“To spar.” Someone would be willing to help her relieve the nervous energy that crawled under her skin.

“You should eat more.” Aldrik caught her wrist.

“I told you, I am not hungry.” There was an edge to his voice that only she seemed able to hear. It was an awful grating sound that didn’t appear to bother anyone else.

“Vhalla, please,” he encouraged.

“I will eat what I please!” She wrenched her hand from his grip. A frown crossed her husband’s face, an expression that Vhalla couldn’t endure. It swayed her mind into more familiar territory. “I just . . . want to work on my swordsmanship.”

Vhalla vanished before any of them could say anything else—hunting down the first partner she could find.

One parry, two, repeat
; the pattern rang through her head in time with the steel vibrating in her hand.
Turn, dodge, duck, lunge, kick
, she was getting better. The unsuspecting swordsman had claimed he would be all too honored to be the Empress’s practice for the night, but he’d bit off more than he could chew against the Windwalker.

Five exhausted partners later, Vhalla sheathed her sword. Sweat rolled off her face, and she panted heavily, but she was no closer to feeling satiated. Victor’s energy still churned underneath her skin.

The next day, her head began to hurt on and off. She could feel Victor’s presence, like a shadow clinging on her back, and it was becoming more and more difficult to sort her emotions from his. This Bond was unlike anything she had felt with Aldrik.

Damn crystals
.

The forest grew denser with each passing day, and the ground began to turn into hills that would later become mountains and valleys. Vhalla kept her eyes down for most of the day, silent, focusing on keeping Victor’s magic contained within her.
Closer
, she realized. Each sway of the horse was bringing her closer to her goal.
Shouldn’t she feel happier?

Happiness was illusive, and her dreams began to occur more regular. No, they weren’t dreams. They were memories. And their assaults were more aggressive than it had ever been with Aldrik.

 

“What’re you gonna do about it, huh? Man witch?” a boy, barely old enough for a coming of age ceremony, taunted. “Gonna use your magic on us?”

Victor, no older than thirteen, stood with his back against a wall. Based on the construction of the buildings, he appeared to be somewhere in the capital.

“Yeah, magic boy, let’s see it.”

Victor scowled and ran his thumbs over the tips of his fingers. “You wouldn’t want that, I’m warning you.”

“Warnings?” The first boy glanced between his two friends. “I think he’s scared.”

“I’m not scared of a Commons,” Victor swore. “You should be scared of me.”

“We’ll see.” The boy cracked his knuckles and swung.

Victor dodged and put his hand on the boy’s chest. Ice covered his torso, rendering his arms mostly immobile from the elbow up. The second boy stepped forward, and Victor repeated the process with confidence.

“Don’t want to fight me now?” he asked the remaining riff raff.

The last boy shook his head.

“Hey, hey.” He held out his arms and placed his palms on the half frozen children. The ice vanished into the air. “Look, we can all still be friends.”

Two just chattered, while the third looked too horrified to speak.

“I need you to remember two things though . . . The first is to never think you’re better than a sorcerer—ever again.” Victor patted what had been the leader on the shoulder, grinning brightly.

“The second is to remember that you belong to me now.”

The boys, the alley, faded away like black smoke. There was only the young Victor before her, as arrogant and triumphant as his adult counterpart.

He looked up at her, and Vhalla was frozen, helpless to do anything.

“Now, you’ve been very naughty, raiding my mind,” the boy spoke slowly. “Let’s see what’s in yours.”

Vhalla felt him. She felt his magic like icy fingers peeling back and penetrating the depths of her mind without her consent. He probed her, taking what was most precious to her.

“No . . .” Her protest was weak, his magic already within her.

A young woman with a mess of hair sprinted through the darkness, a new world building under her footsteps. She put her shoulder to the Imperial library’s door and pushed. Vhalla willed it to stop. She wished for nothing more than to stop the replay of her life before her eyes.

“There he is.” Victor’s voice echoed in her ears. “Let’s see, did you find him attractive then?”

Vhalla remained silent, trying to hide her emotions. But she felt the echo of her dream self. The way Aldrik had first captivated her with his unconventional appeal. Victor felt it too; she knew he did by the satisfaction in his voice.

Other books

Crack of Doom by Willi Heinrich
Boundary by Heather Terrell
The Bass by Moira Callahan
The Vanishing Season by Anderson, Jodi Lynn
Mink River: A Novel by Doyle, Brian
The Unseen by Alexandra Sokoloff
Midnight in Europe by Alan Furst
The Last Victim by Jason Moss, Jeffrey Kottler