Rise (11 page)

Vidar placed his hands on my shoulders, rubbing them. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’ll be better once Anders returns with my medallion.”

“Did Grei Heks give it to you?”

“Yes. It was a gift to protect me from Morlet. It’s imperative that he doesn’t know I’m alive.”

My suspicions were confirmed. “How are you and Anders tied to all of this?”

His hands slid down my arms, instantly calming me. “I’ll show you.” He led me out of the main room, across the bridge, and to his bedchamber. He built up the fire and then searched his bookshelves. “Here it is,” he said, pulling out a small wooden box that had been hidden behind several books. Sitting on his bed, he patted the spot next to him.

Something shifted between us, and I no longer felt nervous around him. Instead, his friendship soothed me. I sat down and he opened the lid. Inside, a sapphire roughly carved into the shape of a ball rested on a white handkerchief. He lifted the stone, placing it on the palm of my hand.

The light sparkled on the polished sapphire, reminding me of Morlet’s eyes. “It’s beautiful, but what is it?”

Vidar lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Everything,” he responded, flinging his arm over his eyes. “It means everything.”

The stone felt warm, as if it had a life of its own. It began pulsing slow and steady, a soft glow emanating from the middle, growing until the entire sapphire shone brightly. “It recognizes I’m a Kriger, doesn’t it?” I asked, captivated by the blue light that somehow felt familiar.

“Yes.”

I carefully placed the stone back in the box and closed the lid. I lay on my stomach next to Vidar, waiting for him to explain.

“Grei Heks gave it to me,” he said. “It’s a sapphire infused with a sliver of magic. It allows me to properly identify a Kriger. Although, I’ve been doing this for so long, I can feel a Kriger’s power. The stone also allows me to communicate with Grei Heks—similar to the way you do with Morlet.”

“But you yourself have no power?”

“No, none at all.” He sighed and moved his arm down so he could look at me. “Today, in the kingdom of Nelebek, only two witches exist. Grei Heks and Skog Heks. They always have to be balanced with one another. When they’re not, something happens to right the wrong and create balance again.”

Thunder boomed. I hoped it didn’t start raining until after Anders returned. He shouldn’t have to travel through treacherous conditions on my account.

“You look tired,” Vidar commented.

Laughing, I said, “Haven’t been sleeping well.” I rested my head on my arms. “How are you involved with the Krigers?”

His penetrating blue eyes stared at me. “Like you, I’m faced with a destiny whether I want it or not.”

“What about Anders?”

His eyebrows drew together. “What about him?”

“He’s an assassin who considers you his best friend, as close as a brother. How does he fit into all of this?”

“He’s cursed like you and me. He won’t be free until the twelve Krigers defeat Morlet.”

“Who cursed him?”

Vidar chuckled. “Hard to say.”

“What was he doing in the capital the day I met him?”

“Why are you asking me? Why don’t you ask Anders?”

I wanted to scream that Anders never spoke to me and refused to answer any of my questions. “Was he there on a mission? Or for some other reason?”

“He was checking on the Krigers,” Vidar admitted.

“Aren’t they locked in the dungeon?” He nodded. “Was he going to rescue them?”

“He can’t.” Vidar rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand, facing me. “The Krigers are in cells that have a magical ward on them. Only a
Heks
or someone with power”—he looked pointedly at me—“can break the ward.”

My stomach dropped. “Why don’t they free each other?”

“The ward prohibits them from accessing their powers while in the cells. You can free them so long as you’re not in there with them.”

“And you’re going to ask me to break into the fortified castle and rescue the Krigers, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not going to ask you. I’m going to train you. And when you’re ready, I expect you to save your fellow Krigers. Because then, and only then, can the group of you link your powers together to defeat Morlet. Once he’s gone, we’ll all be free from his tyranny.”

“Why doesn’t Grei Heks save them?”

“When she created the twelve Krigers to defeat Morlet, she greatly diminished her own magic. She rarely leaves her home.”

My eyelids were getting heavy. “How do you propose I make it through the night? Are you going to tie us together again?”

“Speaking of which, you never told me about Morlet’s visit. You simply said he came here to see you. Was that the only reason you were so afraid?”

I didn’t want to reveal anything about the strangely intimate encounter.

His eyes narrowed. “You can tell me. I’ll help however I can.”

“He still wants me to go to his castle.”

“What did he do to entice you this time?”

How did he know Morlet had done something different? I shook my head and yawned, wanting to end this conversation.

Vidar got up and took the box over to the bookshelf, putting it away. “Just know that Morlet has been around for a century. He’s very good at manipulating people to get what he wants. Always remember that, and whatever you do, don’t trust him.” He turned and faced me, rubbing the back of his neck. “When he visits you, how does he appear?”

I fidgeted with the edge of my sleeve. For some reason, revealing that Morlet had shown me his face felt like acknowledging I’d done something wrong. “He’s always wearing a black cape.” Which was true.

“Well,” he said, coming to stand before me. “His magic is probably depleted after reaching all the way out here to visit you in your dream. It takes much less effort on his part to bring you to him.” He rubbed his face. “I’d like to try and catch a few hours of sleep. Would you mind staying in here tonight?”

I didn’t want to sleep in his room; however, I understood why he wanted me to. Considering all he’d done for me, it was the least I could do.

***

The sound of people talking roused me. Opening my eyes, I found myself in Vidar’s bed, wrapped in his arms, my head on his chest. Thunder boomed in the distance.

“We’ll discuss it later,” he whispered. “Go before you wake her.”

Realizing Vidar wasn’t talking to me, I flew to a sitting position and twisted around. Anders stood in the doorway, dripping wet from the light rain.

“How’s my father?” I asked. Anders turned and trudged away without acknowledging me. Wanting to speak to him, I went to climb out of bed.

Vidar’s arm tightened around me, and he tapped the end of my nose with his finger, capturing my attention. “You’re adorable in the morning.” His lips curled into a slow smile. “I slept like a baby. How about you?”

Both of us were fully dressed and lying on top of the blankets. Obviously, nothing had happened, but I didn’t want Anders to get the wrong idea. I shoved away from Vidar and scrambled out of bed. “I slept just fine, thank you.”

“Morlet will try to communicate with you again as soon as he’s strong enough. I’d recommend not napping.” He sat up and stretched.

“I’ll make sure I’m near Anders and the medallion.”

“That won’t work.” Vidar ran his hands through his rumpled hair. “The medallion is mine, and I’m supposed to wear it at all times.” He pointed to the door handle where the necklace hung. “See, Anders already gave it back to me.” Vidar got up and took the medallion, placing it around his neck so it rested against his chest. He glanced at me and chuckled. “Guess you’ll just have to sleep with me from now on.”

I rolled my eyes. “You should be so lucky.” I hurried from the room, eager to talk to Anders about my father.

The light rain picked up, turning into a heavy downpour. I ran to my room and changed into a clean pair of trousers and a thick shirt. When I entered the main room, Vidar was kneeling at the hearth, nursing the flames back to life. Banging came from the kitchen, so I headed in there. Anders had his back to me while he stirred something in a pot hanging over a small fire.

“I’m glad you made it back safely,” I said. “Were you able to find my father? Is he well?” Hopefully, Papa had not gotten worse. I held my breath, waiting for Anders to answer.

“I just returned,” he mumbled, not bothering to look at me while he spoke. “Can I at least eat before you bombard me with a thousand questions?” He shook his head. “I forgot how much you love to talk.”

Sitting down at the table, I drummed my fingers on the wooden surface. This was my father we were talking about. He was the only family I had. So no, I couldn’t wait for Anders to do something so trivial as eat. I started tapping my foot.

After using a wooden ladle to scoop some white mush into a bowl, he sat across from me and ate, not once looking in my direction.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked. Another thought occurred—maybe my father had died and Anders was afraid to tell me the news. “Is my father … ” I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

He glanced up with fierce brown eyes and said, “Your father is fine.” Then he went back to eating, studiously ignoring me.

“Now that we’re all here,” Vidar said as he came into the kitchen, “we need to talk.” He went over to the pot and scooped some white mush into two bowls. After handing one to me, he sat down. “Anders isn’t the best cook,” he loudly whispered, “but at least it’s warm.” Taking a spoonful, he elegantly ate the food.

I stirred mine, not really hungry.

“While you were gone,” Vidar continued, “Morlet visited Kaia in her dreams. He has to know someone is helping her. It’s only a matter of time until he discovers we’re still alive.”

Anders put down his spoon and observed his friend. “How is this possible?”

“I spoke with Grei Heks. She said he’s feeding off Kaia’s power.”

Anders rubbed his face. “So now what?”

“We need to train Kaia. Then we’ll rescue the Krigers.”

“I’m not sure she’s ready,” Anders said. “She’s only sixteen.”

Vidar smiled. “True, but she’s not like other girls. She’s special.”

Both of them spoke as if I weren’t in the room. I pushed away from the table, not caring to hear any more of their conversation, and walked out of the kitchen. The walls felt confining, suffocating. I needed some time alone to sort through my thoughts. I left the house, crossed the bridge, and climbed down the tree. I stepped out of the trunk, the rain pounding on the ground. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, letting the cold water wash over me. Papa was okay. Morlet hadn’t captured him nor had my father’s illness taken him.

My clothes were drenched, but being alone in the forest in the pouring rain was liberating. I could almost forget Anders’s degrading words:
I’m not sure she’s ready. She’s only sixteen.
Neither Anders nor Vidar looked much older than I was. Granted, I wasn’t an assassin skilled in the art of killing. However, I was more than capable of taking on a larger opponent and winning. After all, I’d been training my entire life for this—I just hadn’t known it.

The sound of raindrops hitting the leaves and branches soothed me. On a whim, I decided to try to find the lake with the large waterfall. Heading east, I had difficulty seeing more than a few feet in front of me. Thunder boomed and lightning sliced across the sky. After five minutes of walking, my hands pulsed with acute pain, almost knocking me over. It was stupid to have come out here all alone during a storm when I was so unfamiliar with the area.

Closing my eyes, I thought back to what Anders said at the pond. I raised my hands out before me and slowly turned around, searching for some sort of pull. The only thing I felt was the rain pounding on my body and the throbbing in my hands. Squinting, I searched for an animal or someone lurking nearby. Nothing.

The ache intensified, and I fell to my knees, crying out. My arms shook, and I glanced at my palms, expecting to see them on fire. They appeared normal, but the cool rain did nothing to soothe them. The ground beneath me suddenly gave out, and I dropped into the earth, screaming as I fell through darkness.

I slammed against a hard surface; a sharp shooting pain pierced my right leg. Luckily, my head didn’t hit anything. The only light came from the opening through which I had fallen, a good ten feet above me. My clothes were soaking wet, and cold seeped into my bones. Taking a deep breath, I moved my foot in slow circles. My ankle was sore, but not broken. Relieved, I bent my knee and discovered it too was just bruised.

My father told me there were hundreds of underground caverns throughout Nelebek. Some of them opened up to the middle of the world, causing people to disappear forever. I would have to use the upmost caution searching for a way out.

Standing, I yelled in case someone above could hear me. No one came. The rocky floor sloped to my right, so I headed in the opposite direction, hoping there was an exit. Sliding one foot forward to ensure the ground didn’t suddenly open up, I shifted my weight, and then slid my other foot forward. It was slow going, especially since my leg was sore. The farther I moved from the small opening in the cavern’s ceiling, the darker it became until complete and utter darkness took over.

It smelled of damp sulfur like the pool Anders and I had bathed in. I shook my head, not wanting to think about the assassin right now. It was eerily quiet—the only sound coming from my feet. The darkness started playing tricks on me. I kept imagining someone grabbing me from behind. Balling my hands into fists, I continued on.

If I reached a dead end, retracing my steps would be difficult, if not downright impossible. This reminded me of being stuck in the closet when I was younger. Since my mother died in childbirth, there was no one to care for me when my father went to work. At first, he left me with a neighbor who had six children of her own. Papa never talked about it, but I got the impression she didn’t take very good care of me. He started leaving me home alone to fend for myself when I was only four years old. When
soldats
came to search the apartment building, I would hide in the secret closet my father built, staying in the dark, cramped space until he returned in the evening. Often times, I’d go all day without food and water.