Chosen Champion, page 16
part #2 of Air Awakens - Vortex Chronicles Series
“What is it now?” Jayme asked, looking up at her.
“I want to learn how to use a sword.”
“Didn’t Sehra’s warriors train you when you were younger?”
“The basics… But I focused more on archery.” Vi made a quick mental note to ask Taavin if there was a way to craft a bow with mysst. “You said you’ve grown up practicing with the sword—surely you can teach me something.”
“I’m sure I can.” Jayme stood, retrieving her sword and scabbard from just inside their tent. She unsheathed it, moonlight catching on the blade. “Here—”
Vi waved it away. Jayme took a step back, confusion on her face. Vi took a step, facing her. Her heart beat in her throat, but she wasn’t entirely sure why.
“You’re risking a lot for me, on faith. There are things I’ve told you about my magic, but there’s a lot you still don’t know.” She sighed softly. “I’m tired of keeping this secret from my friend.”
Jayme said nothing, merely watched and waited.
“Mysst soto larrk.” Vi stretched out her hand before her. It wasn’t as seamless as Taavin’s had been when they last sparred in the pit.
Taavin—thinking of him made her ache. It would be some time until she could summon him again, being around Jayme. Vi pushed down regret at the notion that she should’ve kissed him when she had the chance before she left.
Instead, she focused on willing the strands of light to spin from her glyph, outlining a sword similar to Jayme’s that condensed into existence. It filled with color, solidifying as Vi wrapped her fingers around it. She felt the magic still entangled with her fingers. It was as though she wore little rings around each finger, connecting to the sword, and as long as she grasped the hilt, it would remain real.
To Jayme’s credit, she didn’t so much as flinch. She stood calmly as Vi demonstrated a power that she should not have, and that Jayme had never seen before.
“Well, that’s a useful skill if I ever saw one,” she said, finally. Jayme approached slowly, looking at the blade. “May I touch it?”
“Yes…” Vi watched as she ran the pad of her thumb perpendicular to the edge of the sword, inspecting its sharpness.
“It’s real.”
“Only until I let go,” Vi clarified.
“What magic is this?” Jayme’s eyes flicked up to hers. “I’ve never seen it before.”
“Sehra taught it to me.” It wasn’t entirely untrue. “Those beyond Solaris possess magic like this, I’ve been led to believe.”
“Well, then, this will make teaching swordplay easier.” Jayme walked away, spinning her rapier in her hand in fluid movements.
Something wasn’t quite settling right with Vi. “You’re not… afraid?”
“Should I be?” Jayme arched her eyebrows. “This magic, fire magic, any other magic. You’re still Vi Solaris, and will always be—nothing can change that.” She settled her grip on her sword. “Now, we’ll work on stance. One foot forward, the other back, like this.”
Vi tried to follow Jayme’s demonstration. But her mind was elsewhere. She should be happy to be accepted unconditionally, even with her Lightspinning. But the fact seemed so… impossible.
“Now, lunge!” Jayme cast one arm backward, the other forward. “This is a rapier blade, so you’re not going to be flailing it about like a two-sided, heftier sword. You’ll need to use finesse.”
Vi tried to mimic her movements, pushing the worrying thoughts from her mind. She had the road to Norin to learn as much as she could from her friend. Even though tonight was quiet, Vi was certain danger lurked ahead, and she had to be ready with every dawn from here on to fight it.
Chapter Nineteen
Two days passed uneventfully.
They’d woken early and set out on the road, stopped at any well they passed to replenish their water, and walked until the sun set or their feet couldn’t carry them any longer. At night, they’d hungrily eat through rations. Despite Jayme’s prior warnings, the Waste seemed void of life and hunting was proving difficult.
They still worked to practice swordplay, but were more exhausted after each day of walking. On the eve of the third day, Vi’s feet were so blistered that Jayme refused to teach her and, instead, they sat around the fire they’d finally dared to make for the sake of warmth before calling it an early night.
On the third day, the town they’d been waiting for finally came into view, and they arrived by nightfall.
Inton had its own road branching off the East-West Way that led into its heart. It was perhaps only ten—no, sixteen on counting—buildings large. One was a large manor-type house, its high wall the type Vi had come to associate with the aesthetic of Western nobility. No doubt it belonged to whatever lord maintained this small town’s existence. There were two or three smaller houses, what looked like a sort of shared-living dwelling, then the other buildings needed to support those living in the town, such as a tailor and a smithy.
“I wonder if they have an inn,” Vi mused.
“We need to save our coin for supplies.”
“I brought enough to do both.”
“Of course, the crown princess would leave with a small bank in her pockets.”
“Yullia, remember?”
“Even in private?” Jayme arched her eyebrows.
“Especially in private, or how else will we be accustomed to it in public,” Vi reasoned.
“Fair… So then you’re just a wanderer, Yullia, on the move with a small fortune jingling your pack.” Jayme shook her head. “That’s believable.”
“Maybe my parents are insanely rich.” Vi was more mindful of where she was placing her feet. The stones of the road off the East-West way were worn, uneven, and rutted from centuries of cart wheels passing over them without much maintenance.
“Well, they are, technically.”
“Yes, but Yullia’s parents aren’t the Emperor and Empress.”
“You are truly a master of disguise,” Jayme said dryly. Vi snorted with laughter. “Mother, you know you’re in a small town when the inn, general store, and bar are all condensed into one.”
Vi looked up at the building that had captured Jayme’s attention. Sure enough, the bottom floor looked to be half-shop, half-bar—very likely the only source of entertainment in town. The upper floors had the letters I-N-N painted between the windows that lined it.
Inside, there was every manner of supply imaginable: food, home goods, crafting materials. There was a bladder that could have been for water or lamp oil. There were glass jugs of varying shapes and sizes that reflected her face—and that was a sight.
Her hair was a bird’s nest. The plaits she’d attempted to weave into it had snarled into knots around the nape of her neck. Vi raised a hand, teasing it lightly, but everything just seemed to tighten at the prodding.
She couldn’t stop a giggle.
“What?” Jayme asked, stepping over from the shelf of roasted nuts she’d been eying.
“I’m a mess.”
“You stink, too. Let’s see if we can get a bath with our room for tonight.” Jayme continued up to the counter.
“You’re not exactly sweet smelling yourself,” Vi muttered.
The counter stretched between bar and store, but no one was positioned behind it. They both craned their necks, looking through an open back door. After seeing no one, Jayme lightly rang a small silver bell set out on the counter.
“Hello?”
There was some grumbling, movement, and a wiry-haired old man emerged. The whole of his head was white, and his beady eyes were magnified behind a pair of thick spectacles.
“Oh, you two are new,” he said in a weathered voice.
“Yes, may we purchase a room for the night?” Jayme took the lead. “We’d also like to purchase some supplies.”
“Right, right…” The owner opened a heavy ledger. “Just let me know what you need and I’ll tally it all up.”
“We’ll take six of the jerky…” Jayme moved as she spoke, beginning to collect the items. “… six of these biscuits… This is for water, right? One of these, then…”
Vi left her to it, wandering the shelves toward the empty bar. The sparse bottles—dull with dust—were a contrast to the brightly polished and well-stocked bar that had been in her room at the hotel. It reminded her of her brother and his hand in her escape.
How was he handling it now? There was a dull ache in her chest as his words, begging her to stay, returned loud and clear in her mind. She was doing the right thing, she was certain of it. So… why did she feel guilty?
Movement distracted her. Vi turned, looking out one of the windows. The glass was far from perfect, distorting the bird that had perched on the windowsill. She walked over slowly, so as not to spook the animal.
It was a an eagle—ruddy in color—with pristine plumage, bright eyes, and the strangest circular marking on its brow. Vi leaned forward and the bird swiveled its head to look directly at her. Deep intelligence reflected in its eyes.
“V—Yullia?” Jayme called over.
“Yes?” Vi straightened and heard the flapping of wings outside the glass. She looked back and confirmed the bird had indeed taken flight at her sudden movement.
“Shall we go upstairs?”
“Sure.” Vi adjusted her pack, glancing over her shoulder. “Did you see that bird? It was huge.”
“I missed it,” Jayme said through a mouthful of food. She handed Vi a candied lemon peel.
“Looked like an eagle.”
“Not impossible, though hawks are more common out here in the desert,” the old man interjected. “You’ll see them from time to time.”
“It was beautiful, whatever it was,” Vi murmured, looking back to the window. But the bird was long gone.
Vi fell back onto the plush bed, looked at her pruned fingers, and proclaimed, “I am exhausted.”
“Yes, but it’s good to have had a chance to wash everything, and kind of the owner to allow us to use his laundry supplies.”
“I thought I would dry up in the desert; after today I think I’ve had enough water until we get to Norin.” First there had been laundry, then scrubbing themselves—it took nearly an hour to work a brush through her hair, and Vi hadn’t missed the opportunity to soak tension from her aching muscles in a hot bath.
“You won’t be saying that three hours into tomorrow.” Jayme sat on the other side of the bed, swinging her legs.
“That may be true.” Vi fought a yawn.
“Speaking of… We should get some sleep.” The yawn was contagious, and it was Jayme’s turn. “We won’t have a real bed again until Norin.”
Vi laid back and snuffed the candle on the table opposite the bed in the same motion. She expected sleep to come quickly, but found herself staring up at the ceiling as her eyes adjusted to the moonlight streaming through the open window. Her body was tired and her mind had never felt more awake.
It wandered down every possible mental pathway—her mother, brother, and father. She thought about Taavin and barely resisted the urge to try to sneak out of bed to summon him. Vi turned her head, looking at the back of Jayme’s on the pillow opposite. What would it feel like to have Taavin there?
“Jayme,” Vi whispered.
“What?” she grumbled sleepily.
“Are you awake?”
Something between a sigh and a yawn. “No, I’m good at sleep talking.” A pause. “Yes, I’m awake, what do you need?”
“Have you ever lain with a man before?” Vi asked softly.
Another painfully long pause. Then Jayme twisted in bed, shifting under the covers to face Vi. She hoped the moonlight would hide her blush, now that Jayme was looking at her.
“This, coming from the princess who has ‘no time for romance’?”
“I didn’t—don’t—have time for it. I was just… wondering.” Vi’s tongue wouldn’t cooperate. Now that she’d started the line of thought, all she could think about was lying curled in bed with Taavin.
“Well, like I told you before, I haven’t had time myself for relationships. I’ve been too busy.” Jayme’s eyes blinked slowly, sleep tugging at the lids.
“Some say a relationship isn’t necessarily required for certain aspects.” Vi folded and unfolded her hands over her stomach.
“You think I’m a loose woman?” All exhaustion and sleep fell from her friend’s voice, replaced by hurt and tension. Vi turned quickly.
“No, no. I just meant that I heard—”
“Commoners spread their legs whenever they please because they have no land or titles to uphold?” Jayme rolled her eyes at Vi’s silence. “Of course you have. Let me be the one to break it to you, Vi: even some nobles will do that. Just as there are many who won’t. It’s all the same—low or high born. We all struggle through the same shite, have the same needs, and all do our best to live with what life hands us as best we can.”
“Right…” Vi looked back to the ceiling. “Sorry if I offended you,” she said softly.
“You didn’t.” Jayme rolled back over and Vi hoped she was telling the truth.
“I really am.”
“You really didn’t.”
Another long silence stretched between them, which Vi’s mind used to wander down the path of clandestine meetings. It struck a different memory, tangentially related to Jayme. Something Andru had said during a dinner that now felt like forever ago.
“Did you manage to see your friend in the Crossroads?”
“What now?” Jayme glanced over her shoulder, barely pulling her head off the pillow.
“Andru said you met with a friend in the Crossroads… a blonde woman.”
Jayme stared at her and yawned. “I have no idea what he’s talking about. Must have the wrong person. Now, go to sleep, Vi.”
Vi sunk her head back onto the pillow and Jayme did the same. Her eyes drifted closed, then open again, and closed once more. No matter how hard she tried to quiet her mind, it refused. But her body was stubborn, demanding some form of rest, and Vi fell into a twilight-like sleep…
Time had passed.
She wasn’t sure how much, but Vi could feel that it had. The moonlight in the room had shifted, dimmed somewhat. That meant the moon had dipped on the other side of the inn; dawn wasn’t far. Vi shifted in bed, sinking further into the warm blankets. The ropes beneath her creaked.
The floorboards across the room mirrored the action.
Vi opened her eyes slowly. Her heart pounded, waking her with a rush of panic. There was someone in the room with them. Vi was certain she’d locked the door after coming in from the bath. Had they climbed through the window?
She shifted again, pushing Jayme with her foot. The woman groaned softly as a shadow took over Vi’s side of the bed. Vi took a deep breath. She wasn’t about to go quietly to some assassin in the night.
Throwing the covers off the bed, Vi brought her legs under her.
“What the—” Jayme was now awake, but Vi’s attention was on the man wrenching off the blanket she’d thrown at him.
Vi held out her hand. “Mysst soto—” She froze, the chant stalled, magic dissipating with nowhere to go, as she locked eyes with Fallor.
Chapter Twenty
Fallor was like a mountain in the small room. His clothes were sun-bleached and windswept. A thick, ruddy beard clung to his cheeks and accentuated the white of his teeth, exposed by a mad grin.
He looked like he was about to rip her to pieces with those giant hands of his.
Vi held out her hand, readying her magic again. But before she could even start the chant, Jayme lunged.
She plunged her hand into his gut. Vi didn’t expect the man to even feel it, but Fallor let out a large exhale of air. If he was stunned, it was only briefly. He lifted his hands, balled them together, and brought them down over Jayme’s head.
But Jayme was too fast; she spun behind him and grabbed her sword from the table. Vi heard the blade ring against the sheathe, startling her back into motion as Fallor’s attention was split between them.
“Mysst soto larrk.” Vi held out her hand, closing her fingers around the sword that formed there. Her practice with Jayme had made the magic faster, more confident, and the blade feel even firmer in her hand.
“It really is true, then.” Fallor laughed.
“Haven’t I heard that before?” Vi growled back. “I think from the last assassin who tried to kill me.”
“I’m not an assassin and I certainly don’t want to kill you. You’re worth far more alive. You’ve no idea the bounty they have on your head.” He took a step forward.
“Take one more step and I put this blade through the back of your skull.” Jayme said from behind him. From her vantage on the bed, Vi could see the woman had her blade on the back of the man’s neck. Fallor only grinned wider at the threat.
“You think you have this under control?”
“I think you shouldn’t underestimate us,” Jayme answered for them both.
“We’ll see!” Fallor doubled over, pushing himself back and into Jayme. Her sword went over his head before she was pinned against the table on the opposite wall.
Vi took her chance, lunging for him. Every combat tutor she’d ever worked with told her the same thing: when an opening presented itself, the living took it, and the dead never had the opportunity to learn better.
She was mid-air as Fallor straightened. His hand came out of nowhere, clasping around her wrist and pulling the blade over his shoulder. She hung, struggling against his grasp, but his muscles were like iron. He took a step away from Jayme; Vi heard wheezing at the same moment Fallor tightened his grip, a pulse of foreign magic rippling through Vi’s body.
The sword vanished.
“Little Lightspinner, you think your magic is a threat to me?”
“Who are you working for?” Vi demanded, looking in his pale eyes. Whatever that magic was, it wasn’t anything she knew. Which meant… Fallor wasn’t from the Solaris Empire.
“The pirate queen herself.” Fallor beamed from ear to ear as Vi’s blood turned to ice.
