Water's Wrath (Air Awakens Series Book 4) (42 page)

“We should head home.” Cass noticed Vhalla considering her horse and had the same idea.

“We should.”

They tied up the last of their supplies to the saddles, and Vhalla adjusted the hood on her head, suddenly conscious of her own existence. Reona huffed, annoyed that her big secret actually had to remain just that.

A scream rang out through the quiet town.

All three girls turned to the source of the sound. A commotion was being raised at the far end. Vhalla glanced to Cass.

“Reona, stay here with the horses,” the elder sister ordered.

“I’m coming.” Vhalla fell into step by the eldest Charem girl. Cass gave her a nod and did not question.

A crowd was quickly gathering at the main entrance to the town. People of all shapes and sizes poured into the street to see the source of the commotion. Judging by the size of the group, everyone who lived in the area was likely there. Cass squinted over people’s heads. Vhalla had no hope of seeing, even on her toes. They pushed around the side to one of the storefronts. Standing on some wooden boxes, they could finally see the source of the fuss.

It was then that Vhalla realized how true the princess’s words had been.

“Jon, Jon! What, what is wrong, Jon?” a woman blubbered, stepping forward from the semi-circular crowd. A man had walked, judging by the footprints, through the mountain snow, and he had come a very long way. He wore the bloodied and torn uniform of a palace guard. Blood no longer oozed from the gaping wounds in-between his plate. It had crusted and frozen.

His head tilted to the side, weighed down by a rock that jutted out from his eye.
No, it wasn’t a rock
. Vhalla’s eyes widened. The crystal shone unnaturally in the light of the afternoon. Blood coated the man’s face from where the magical object had been shoved through. His other eye shone red, and his skin had turned to leather. Whoever this man had been, he was no more.

“I have been sent.” His voice echoed, raspy and hollow, across the silenced crowd. “As a messenger, from your new sovereign.” The crystal glowed ominously as he spoke, everyone stared in horror.

“I fought for the old regime, for the wicked Emperor Solaris, oppressor of power. For my loyalty, I was justly put to death, as were all who stood with the dying sun.” The man’s body did not move as he spoke; it was as rigid as a corpse, save for his jaw. “The family Solaris is dead. The Emperor died a screaming death. He has been flayed, his entrails set out for the birds and his skin used to make our lord’s first banner. His lady wife followed him after. The sons Solaris perished to hand over their succession rights to our lord’s divine right to rule. Their bodies have been quartered and fed to dogs.”

Vhalla’s hands rose to her mouth.
Baldair
, was her only thought. The idea of Victor disgracing the remains of the golden prince gave her a sickening mental image. An image that she would use as kindling to stoke the malice she held for Victor into a fever heat.

“There will be no quarter given to those who show a love for the fallen sun that is the family Solaris. They are all dead and rotting. Even the Windwalker was put to death for her well-known love of the late crown prince.”

Vhalla blinked.
The man spoke of her
. Victor proclaimed Aldrik and her dead to the world. He did not know they had managed to escape the caverns and found shelter from the winter. In all his over-confidence, he was so drunk on triumph that he missed their salvation at the hands of Elecia, Jax, and Fritz.

“Love your new lord for he is akin to the Gods, supreme king, our one true master, governor of this world, Victor Anzbel. Those who share a fraction of his power as sorcerers are to be heralded as his chosen ones. They are invited to the capital to swear fealty and live the life of nobility. Those unchosen, Commons, are to learn their new place and prostrate themselves before their magical overseers.” The grotesque animation finished its speech.

Vhalla felt an awful wrenching inside of her.
This was the power she had unleashed
. This was the fate she had allowed to be brought upon the world.

“We need to go.” Vhalla grabbed Cass’s elbow. The girl stared, gaping at the nightmare. “
Now
.”

“Right.” The eldest Charem finally was pulled out of her trance. As subtly as they could, they retreated away from the crowd.

“Jon, Jon, what madness are you speaking?” The woman stuttered her words with grief and disbelief.

“Kneel before me, so that he may witness your loyalty to this new world order,” the man continued as though he did not hear the woman.

They were halfway back to their horses, but in the silent town, each word was clear across the snow.

“Jon, please, speak to me as you always did. You-you loved, you were so proud to serve the Imperial family,” the woman pleaded.

Vhalla clenched her hands into fists instinctually, even though there was no longer magic to Channel. Grief was clouding that person’s judgment, and Vhalla was hopeless to help.

“Kneel, woman. Let your King Anzbel see your loyalty.”

“What’s going on?” Reona asked.

“Get on your horse,” Cass snapped at her sister.

Luckily, the girl was old enough and Cass was firm enough that she did not question. Vhalla swung her leg over Lightning. She noticed that sitting on the horses they were tall enough to see the scene off in the distance. Reona’s eyes were already fixed.

There was another scream, then chaos broke loose in the crowd behind them.

“All who do not kneel for the Supreme King Anzbel will die!” the man shouted.

They used the commotion to their advantage and spurred their horses into the woods. Vhalla turned in her saddle, picking up the rear behind the Charems. There was a commotion, shouting, crying, screaming, a flash, and the sizzle of magic. The town’s resistance was brief. Just before all were out of her vision, she saw the still living kneel in the blood of their fallen friends and family.

“What was that, what was that, what was that?”
Reona was shaking her head. She had heard and seen enough.

“Hush, Reona!” Cass’s voice was breaking.

“We will be fine,” Vhalla assured the girls. Two sets of blue eyes looked back at her as they raced through the wood. “There was only one. If he catches up with us, Jax, Aldrik, Elecia, and Fritz will protect us.”

Vhalla gripped her reins. If she had her powers, that guard—the magically reanimated monster of Victor’s—would be dead . . . again. But all she could do was run, run and keep the two girls with her as safe as possible by getting them away. She could no longer fight with her magic and had no weapons. She’d been reduced to using the only tool she’d ever had at her disposal: her mind.

Vhalla looked behind them at the deep tracks in the snow. Despite the cold, sweat ran down her forehead. If she had her powers, she could cover those betraying dips in the white world. Cursing aloud, she snapped the leather in her death-grip, her heels digging into Lightning. Anyone would be able to see the path leading right to the Charem home.

“We need to split up!” Vhalla pulled hard on her reins. “Loop around in circles.”

“What?” Reona was shaking, and Vhalla doubted it was from cold.

“Make a bunch of circles, loop back, and then we’ll meet back up again in a bit. Stay in earshot,” Vhalla ordered.

Cass picked up on what Vhalla was attempting, likely she was one of the hunters of the family, and followed Vhalla’s orders. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but the abomination didn’t seem too intelligent, and it was better than nothing. They rode apart for a stretch, coming back together just as the Charem home came into view.

Orel was out chopping wood. Tama and the two Northern women were tending to something in the livestock pens. The horses were a fury of thunder that shattered the relative peace.

Vhalla met a set of emerald eyes. Sehra studied her face as if she was able to replay the horrors Vhalla witnessed from her expression alone.

“Daddy!” Reona launched off her horse, stumbled, rolled in the snow, found her feet, and ran to her father. Orel was confused, but wasted no time scooping his crying daughter into his large arms. “Daddy, daddy, daddy!”

The commotion drew the men from within the home, and a pair of dark eyes met hers. Vhalla looked at Aldrik, and her chest tightened. He knew instantly something was amiss.

Vhalla and Cass dismounted, and the older girl stumbled in the snow. Cass went instantly to her mother, saying nothing. Tama stared at her shaken daughter and took her child into her arms without question.

“What happened? Reona, sweetling, what happened?” Orel tried to console his hysterical daughter.

Vhalla stood in the snow, at a loss as to who she should turn to. Her arms hung limply at her sides as the information continued to sink into her. Aldrik’s gaze was upon her, his boot crunched the snow. Vhalla raised her gold-flecked eyes to meet obsidian.

“Vhalla,” he asked,
he demanded
.

She swallowed. Someone had to do it. One of them had to say it, and she was not about to make the girls who had accompanied her perform that duty. They were just girls, as she had once been. But her innocence had long since been lost. It was a fate she would not force, nor push, upon the Charem daughters. Vhalla’s shoulder ached all the way to her chest.

“Aldrik.” She did not care for the lack of his title before anyone anymore. Vhalla spoke only to him. “It’s Victor.”

He took another step toward her. Vhalla braced herself. She would find the words. Strength, she had to find the strength first. Her will would replace her magic; it would be just as strong as her winds ever were.

“What happened?” He kept his eyes locked with hers.

“The Emperor.” No matter what the man had done to her, to them, he had been Aldrik’s father. Vhalla’s voice softened. “Your father, the Empress, they’re dead.”

“What?” Elecia stepped forward as if she had somehow misheard Vhalla.

Aldrik tried to reach out, but only briefly. The spark that brought his hands to life was gone, and they hung at his side. His lips parted, and she saw the shock crash down on him. Her heart broke for the man she loved. First his brother, now his father, and who knew how many countless others were dead and gone.

Panic momentarily overwhelmed her at the thought of everyone she still loved in the capital, but Vhalla pushed through it.

“There was a messenger—a tainted abomination—sent from Victor. I can only assume one of many,” Vhalla answered Elecia, though her gaze stayed on Aldrik. “He was dead, long dead. But there was a crystal through his eye, and it somehow kept him moving.” She shook her head; it was magic beyond her understanding. Sehra had said as much. All the rules were gone now. This would be a fight unlike any they had ever seen. “He said Victor had become the supreme king of this world. That the old regime, the family Solaris and all who supported them in the capital, were dead.”

Her words filled the forest clearing, and Vhalla could see the moment everyone understood their meaning. Aldrik visibly swayed a moment, taking a step to adjust his balance. Vhalla’s hand rose to the watch at her neck. He was a prince without a throne. A man who had lost his mother, his brother, now his father, along with his kingdom and everything he had ever known. No one said a word. Aldrik stared blankly at her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. With those words, she knew it became real for him. Her sympathy, her pain on his behalf made the rest of it true, just as it had with Baldair.

He opened and closed his mouth, trying to find words. Her prince, he had endured so much death, so much loss and hurt that she could not save him from. Now Vhalla feared he was on the point of breaking. She took a step forward, at the same time as Orel.

“There is only one true king, one true lord of these lands. It is not some man whom I have never heard of before,” the head of the Charem family announced.

Aldrik turned to face the burly woodcutter, his eyes wide and expressionless.

“And that lord stands before me.” The man dropped to a knee, bowing his head. “Long live the Emperor Solaris.”

Aldrik blinked at Orel, still at an utter loss for words.

“Long live the Emperor Solaris.” Tama repeated her husband’s words dutifully, and the matriarch sunk to her knees.

“Long live Solaris,” Elecia announced proudly. Jax echoed the same, and both Westerners dropped to a knee, their heads bowed.

One by one, the Charem children began to follow suit. Each proclaimed their loyalty before sinking into the snow. To Vhalla’s shock, she witnessed the Northerners drop to their knees as well. The princess’s eyes were fixed on hers, and they spoke silent volumes, reminding Vhalla that their loyalty was on contingency. That their deal now mattered more than ever.

Vhalla turned back to Aldrik.

It was not a grand coronation in the Chapel of the Sun. There were no Crones to lead oaths. The wind replaced trumpets and snow replaced confetti of gold. He did not stand upon the Sunlit Stage, swathed in gold and white. There was no blazing crown of the sun to be placed upon his brow.

His succession came washed in the blood of his father and all who dared support his name. His gifts, his prizes of leadership, were loss and hardship. There was no mantle of the sun to settle upon his shoulders, only pain.

But she had lived to see that day. Vhalla was there the moment her prince became her Emperor. He turned back to her helplessly. For the first time in the whole of knowing him, Aldrik looked lost, shell-shocked. She tried to offer him an encouraging smile, but there was only one thing to be done. She had something more important to give him than her smiles. Vhalla dropped to her knee before the Emperor of the realms.

“Long live Solaris.”