V
HALLA KEPT HER
head down as she traversed the camp. There was a palpable force to the soldiers’ motions, and she slipped unimpeded through the tense bustle. The military knew of the attack, and everyone seemed to gird themselves to face what the next day would bring.
More than once, she saw soldiers stitching painted wings to their clothing, etching the symbol of the Windwalker onto their armor. Vhalla bit her lip, thinking of Tim. What had happened while she was working in the camp palace? Did all these people really think that a symbol could protect them against whatever the North could devise?
She didn’t say anything, however. She kept on her course to the edge of camp and up the rise toward the burnt track that ran around the perimeter. Vhalla wondered briefly what Soricium was like before the military. There must have been trees where the Imperial army now camped. Had it been like the capital in the South with thousands of people making their home around the fortress?
Vhalla would’ve paused to contemplate the idea, but she didn’t want to turn around just yet and give her pursuer knowledge that she was aware of his presence. Vhalla had heard a set of footsteps behind her since shortly after the camp palace. At first, she thought it was just a soldier who happened to have business in the same direction as she, but they had been trailing her too long for it to be mere chance. She clenched her fists, waiting until they had crested the rise and started on the burnt stretch—until they were alone.
She took a deep breath, bracing herself. There was only one explanation for a person tailing her. Whatever the Knights of Jadar were planning, they would not be successful.
Shifting her weight, Vhalla pivoted on one foot, raising a hand across her chest. Magic was swift under her fingers, ready to lash outward. Her whole body froze awkwardly the second her eyes met a familiar set.
“Daniel?” she uttered, confused.
“Where are you headed?” His hand rested on the pommel of his sword, but only lightly. It betrayed his training. If she had lashed out at him, he would’ve been ready. He would’ve dodged and countered before Vhalla had a chance to blink—if she wasn’t leveraging Aldrik’s depth of combat knowledge.
“Where are
you
headed?” she retorted.
“I asked you first.” It was a childish response, but that didn’t make it any less effective.
Vhalla shifted her balance, dropping her arm. “I have something I need to do.”
“Something reckless,” he clarified for her.
“Perhaps.” Vhalla shrugged. She hadn’t honestly given her course of action much thought. She only knew it needed to be done.
“Perhaps.” Daniel shook his head and chuckled, mostly to himself. His gaze was one that Vhalla hadn’t expected to see ever again. There was a deeply rooted tenderness, an admiration that made Vhalla want to remind him that she was a taken woman.
Her hand went up to her neck, grabbing for Aldrik’s watch. It was under her chainmail, and her fingers rested awkwardly atop the metal.
“I know you.” Daniel took a step closer. “You have this knack for being reckless and attracting danger.”
“So?” She took a step back. “Are you going to force me to go back?”
The Easterner laughed, shaking his head and tossing his brown hair. “Certainly not, your life is yours to live. But I will protect you, if you will have my sword.”
“Because Baldair ordered it?” Vhalla didn’t know why it mattered.
“Have I ever needed an order to be near you?” He had a point Vhalla could not refute.
“He didn’t send you?” Vhalla realized Daniel had thought she was referring to Baldair’s previous, general order of protecting her.
“Baldair?” Daniel was confused now as well. “No, I saw you in camp and decided to see where you were off to.”
“How did you know it was me?”
Daniel crossed the remaining distance and Vhalla waited. He took the half step into the threshold of personal space that was a little too familiar. He was a breath away and, were they not both wearing armor, she would’ve been able to reach out and feel his firm chest, the way the muscles curved under her palm. His hazel eyes were as warm as a summer day.
“I’ve never seen another chainmail like this.” His fingers ran along the edge of the hood.
The rough pad of a finger fell off the chainmail and onto her forehead, lightly running over her skin. Vhalla realized that nothing had changed for Daniel. Even knowing about her and Aldrik, about where Vhalla’s heart was given, he still felt a more than friendly level of ardor for her. But, as he pulled his hand away, he resigned with grace to the role in her life he could play.
It made her heart ache with a conflict.
“So, will you tell me then what you’re out here hoping to achieve?” Daniel took the half step out of her personal space.
“I think the less you know the better,” Vhalla decided after only a moment’s debate. She set out once more for her destination; there wasn’t any time to waste.
“That sounds ominous.” Daniel walked at her side.
Vhalla stared at the structure they were approaching. It
was
an ominous sort of night. The full moon stared down at them like one wide eye of the Dragon of Chaos that lore said it contained. The closer they neared to the ruins of old Soricium, the more prominent the feeling of being watched became.
It was a feeling that exactly mirrored one she had felt before in the Crossroads, when a Firebearer’s eyes lingered on her for far too long. But they were half a continent away from that curiosity shop now. It was far more likely that the eyes Vhalla felt were those of a waiting enemy.
The ruins were larger than Vhalla remembered. They seemed to almost double in size from one end of the scorched earth to the other. Now they towered taller than any single building she’d ever seen—that wasn’t the palace—and Vhalla felt dwarfed by its presence. The trees and roots that were gnarling their way through the stone seemed to only penetrate so deep. Under the crumbling façade was a deeper layer of smooth stone, much like she’d seen in Soricium.
“Has anyone ever gone in?” she asked Daniel. It wasn’t his first tour so she thought he may know.
“In? No.” He shook his head.
Vhalla paused at the tree line, staring into the yawning darkness created by the canopy of the jungle. Even the light of the moon couldn’t penetrate to the forest floor. The last time she had gone into this jungle she had come out with almost nothing.
Clenching her fists, Vhalla took a step forward, deeply grateful for Daniel’s presence.
She began walking around the building, running her hand along the stone. It was a sorcery unlike any she’d ever felt. Most magic Vhalla had ever encountered seemed to move. Firebearers crackled and radiated, Waterrunners ebbed and flowed, Groundbreakers were vibrant and colorful in their sorcery. But, this—
this
was a pulse rooted to something much deeper than any Channel Vhalla had ever encountered.
Even Daniel had fallen quiet. His eyes were on high alert, and he scanned the treetops and forest floor for any sign of an attack. Vhalla felt the hair on the back of her neck rise, the feeling of eyes becoming so great that she paused to shift into her magical sight and listen on the wind for any breath of enemies.
It was silent.
The forest was so chillingly still that Vhalla turned and peered over her shoulder, desperate to see a sliver of moonlight from the way they had come. The thick brush had already closed in around them, blotting out any view of the Imperial camp beyond. As if the forest was a hungry beast that had swallowed them whole.
There was nowhere to go but forward, so Vhalla pushed on. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but as they rounded the back end of the structure, Vhalla barely contained a sigh of relief and a groan of frustration. All she could see was more of the same. More magically shaped stone defending the building’s contents from everything—even the trees.
She stilled, repeating the only facts that she knew about the axe.
Achel slept in a stone tomb
. Judging from where Za had been focused, Vhalla was certain that this was the “stone tomb” she had been referring to.
The Gods watch over what is theirs.
She turned her face upward. Vhalla squinted through the edge of the canopy where the trees couldn’t encroach upon the top of the structure. High above was the great eye that peered down upon the whole world:
the Gods
.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Daniel hissed as she planted her feet against the rock.
“We have to go in through the top,” Vhalla whispered in reply, her feet already by his head.
“Vhalla, if you fall—”
“Falls can’t hurt me, remember?” Anyone else would have likely been dissuaded from tackling such a tall climb. But Vhalla found herself breathing easier with each pull of her arms, with each footing she found that brought her upward. The air was freer up high than in the inky blackness of the jungle floor. Climbing toward the sky was freedom.
Daniel was a cacophony of noise the moment he tried to ascend as well.
“Daniel!” Vhalla tensed, stalling on a narrow ledge. He created enough clanking to alert anyone who was even remotely close to their presence. He was too encumbered by his armor to go further. Vhalla sighed softly, knowing what needed to be said. “You can’t follow me.”
“Vhalla!” he protested with genuine panic.
“You said it yourself: if you fall, it won’t be good.”
“I want to go with you.”
“Don’t make me watch another man I care about fall.” The words escaped before she gave them any thought, just unfiltered truth.
Another man I care about
, she watched as it sank in on his face. Vhalla’s expression likely mimicking the surprise his hazel eyes carried. Vhalla swallowed. “Go back to the camp side, wait for me there. If I’m not out by the time the sky begins to lighten, get Aldrik.”
“Do not keep me worrying for that long,” he demanded.
“I won’t.” Vhalla watched as Daniel started back for the Imperial side of the ruins.
She turned back to the rock. It was uncomfortable beneath her hands, as though it rejected her every touch. Finding places for her feet gave the sickening feeling that she was putting the soles of her boots on someone’s face. It wasn’t a hard climb, but the disgust the ruins seemed to radiate toward her made it take longer than it should.
When Vhalla crested the apex of the structure, the moon hung right above her. She panted softly from the exertion of the climb, but her eyes focused on the dark spot in the middle of the roof she now stood upon. Vhalla walked over, shuffling her feet toward the hole to peer over the edge.
She gasped sharply. The moonlight flowed through the oculus only to be dashed upon hundreds of points, fracturing it into starlight in a swirling microcosm of raw magic. This was the power that was being kept inside the thick stone wall of pure earth. Vhalla crouched at the ledge, gazing down. The bottom did not seem very far, if she could land easily with all the crystals below.
Inching to the edge, she took a breath and stepped off. The moonlight faded quickly and Vhalla welcomed the air beneath her, easing her fall onto a large crystal. Which she proceeded to slip off of and land awkwardly.
Vhalla rubbed the back of her head where it’d hit against a stone—a less than graceful descent. The domed ceiling above her seemed to glow with magic. But it could be her eyes playing tricks on her. Blinking the haze away, Vhalla pulled herself to her feet.
Every crystal she touched radiated power. The second her feet or hands brushed over the stone it shimmered and sparked to life with a color as ancient as the glacers in the tallest mountains of the South. She felt the magic reaching out to her, twirling around her fingers, inviting her to use it. For all the power the room held there was one thing that drew her attention.
Achel was unimpressive in its size. It was no longer than the length of Vhalla’s forearm. The flat hilt had been wrapped in thin leather strips that were now brittle with age.
But the blade
. It shone wickedly, and the whole thing seemed to be carved from a single shimmering stone. It radiated a power so deep that it grated against Vhalla’s bones.
Crystal weapons were real
.
There was nothing else in the structure. Only the crystals growing from every wall, all reaching toward a center pedestal in which Achel rested. The blade of the axe was embedded in the crystal beneath it.
Vhalla approached slowly.
There was no sign of foul play; if anything, that made her more leery. It was so beautifully enticing to her magic that it gave her a nervous edge. It radiated power that felt like Aldrik’s, which gave Vhalla the sensation of his skin on hers. Her eyes fluttered closed a brief moment.
They opened again quickly at the returning feeling of someone’s stare. She peered over her shoulder nervously. There was no one there; it was just crystals. In fact, she had no idea how she would get out of the room.
Vhalla stared at the axe in a heated debate with herself. Reaching out a hand, she hesitated.
What if it was far more protected here than it could be anywhere else?
Her trembling hand caused the tip of her finger to brush against the hilt and magic flashed brightly.
Forced to cover her eyes as the whole room lit up, Vhalla blinked stars trying to get her sight back.
“Leave it.” The voice was ghost-like, faint, chilling, and oddly familiar. Scraps of magic floated through the air, drifting like shining feathers made of silvery moonlight.
She was no longer alone.
Across the room from her was a woman dressed in tight black leathers that hugged her generous curves. A long scarf was piled around her shoulders and head, dyed a deep crimson color that reminded Vhalla of the robes the crones wore. The only part of her face that was visible was two glowing ruby eyes.
Vhalla wanted to ask the woman who she was. She wanted to plant her feet and prepare to fight. But she couldn’t seem to move a muscle.
“Leave the blade; do not take Achel from its tomb,” the woman repeated, the scarf muffling her voice. She raised a hand, runes that Vhalla had never seen before glowing ghostly white above her arm. Vhalla was vaguely reminded of the strange magic that the Chieftain had used. But this woman didn’t look like a Northerner. From the tan skin around her eyes and stray hair falling from under her head wrap, she looked Western—
perhaps
.