Water's Wrath (Air Awakens Series Book 4) (6 page)

Vhalla pressed herself against a wall, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. “The Windwalker—the Empire’s monster—has returned to wage war upon the West!”

The crowd hummed in confusion.

“Look down there and find your brethren lying in pools of their own blood. Faces ripped open as only she can do.”

Vhalla stared at her feet, realizing blood splotched the bottom of her cloak. She couldn’t kill Major Schnurr here and now—it’d confirm everything he was saying, and the longer she lingered, the more likely it was for someone to notice the panting and battle-stained woman. Vhalla began to move, heading down along the outside of the crowd.

“It’s true!” a new voice cried. “Th-there’s three! They’re dead!”

More whispers, more nervous glances.

“Go, find her! Give her to the Knights. We’re the only ones who have ever been able to tame
her kind
. Clearly Solaris cannot be trusted!”

Vhalla slipped into a narrow space between two buildings, climbing over crates and working her way away from the crowd being whipped into a frenzy.
What was she going to do now?
Her fingers ran up and down the leather sheath of the axe, as if it held the answers she sought. As if it could solve all her problems by cutting, cutting, and cutting everyone who opposed her . . .

So engulfed in her thoughts, she missed hearing the footsteps growing behind her. Two arms suddenly snatched her and a palm clamped over Vhalla’s mouth. Magic was swift under her fingers until a familiar male voice hastily spoke.

“Finally found you.”

V
HALLA TWISTED ON
her toes, pulling herself from the man’s grasp. Her heart raced. She didn’t know if it would’ve been worse to have a Knight of Jadar or the man she faced.
If he was a Knight, she could’ve at least killed him and been off again
.

Her eyes absorbed the tall shape, the Western olive skin, and the long dark hair that was pulled back into a bun.

“Jax.”

“You never disappoint, do you?” The man gave her a wild grin and a shake of his head. “The Windwalker disappears for weeks, and when she shows up, it’s to murder Western lords. Didn’t you see enough blood at the warfront?”

Vhalla scowled murderously.
How dare he?
“What do you want?”

“You don’t seem happy to see me.” The man cocked his head to the side. “Here I thought we were friends.”

“What do you want?” she repeated, her hand twitching for the axe. He’d better not make her repeat it again. He was her friend, but her patience ran thinner with every beat of her heart.

“To help you.” Jax folded his arms over his chest.

She laughed and turned. “I don’t have time for you. Go back to the guard.”

“Where are you going?” Jax fell into step behind her.

“Away.” Vhalla’s eyes darted over her shoulder. No one was following them, but she could see frantically running silhouettes of men and women on the street.

“Did you kill those men?” Jax’s tone turned serious.

“I said I don’t have time for you.”

To his credit, he moved fast enough to catch her off guard. Jax’s palm gripped her shoulder, turning them both, forcing her against the wall. Her back hit hard and Vhalla glared, prepared to give him a string of insults. As was the man’s nature, he stilled her with a look that whispered of something deeply troubling.

“
Did you kill them?
”

“I did.” There was no remorse and no hesitation.

Jax cursed under his breath. “All right, come. Baldair or Aldrik will fix this.”

Vhalla twisted her arm out of his grasp the moment he reached for it. They locked in a staring contest that Vhalla broke with the first word. “I’m not going back to them.”

“Vhalla—”

“No. I’m not running to the princes at every turn. If I did, the Knights will never see me as someone they need to fear.”

“If you run, then those same princes will be forced to brand you a murderer.” Jax leaned against the wall with a sigh. He seemed more exasperated than horrified by her insistence.

“It’s not the first time I’ve fought for my innocence,” Vhalla retorted smartly.

“You will be hunted.”

“I already am.”

“They will condemn you. If you do this, you may never be able to return to the life you had.”

Vhalla’s shoulders shook, and she freed haunted laughter into the air. “Return to the life I had? That option left me long ago.” Her hand rested on the axe holster once more. “If I want a future, I’m going to have to cut it from the hands of fate myself.”

Jax stilled, assessing her. Vhalla took a step backward, giving him a half-mad smile of her own. The man was indeed kind, in his own way. But she was too old to have people mothering her.

“If you insist.” He adjusted his bun and straightened away from the wall. “Then I’m coming with you.”

“What?” That was the last thing she expected to hear. “No, I need to do this alone—”

“Save me the speech.” Jax rolled his eyes. “Guards have already been called, and they’re going to be scouting the city. You have blood on your hands—literally—and I’m going to venture a good guess that you have nowhere to go. The Knights will move fast. You need a Westerner to help you navigate these alleyways.”

Vhalla knew what he was offering was more than help escaping through the narrow passages between buildings. He was offering her his knowledge of Western culture. His insights into the seedy shadows, which she could lurk within and be lost. His wisdom was gained from years of time spent around princes—and the very same lords Vhalla was determined to slay.

“You will become my accomplice,” she pointed out.

Jax grinned madly. “They can only strip me of my nobility once—for murdering a lord.”

Vhalla blinked, blindsided.

“You didn’t know?” Jax chuckled darkly. “I suppose you wouldn’t; you never drank much with Western majors, never heard the fantastical stories of the golden prince’s Black Dog. You didn’t think you were the only monster on an Imperial leash, did you?”

Vhalla stared, frozen. She’d known it in the warfront—she’d realized they were both tied to the crown, but she’d had no idea why. Her innocence had led her to being turned into the weapon she was now, which ultimately led to the surrender of her freedom. But for Jax, his crimes were of a different sort, the sort that had put a noose around his neck where Baldair, or the Emperor himself, held the other end. He hadn’t managed to free himself in however long his service had been for.

“Murder?” she asked.

“Don’t ask questions if you aren’t prepared for the answers,” Jax advised ominously. “For now, come this way, my little monster.”

Jax set off deeper into the narrow back-alleys of the Crossroads, and Vhalla followed on blind faith. She tried to process what Jax had told her and everything she’d seen. Certainly, the Western majors hadn’t been fond of him. He’d insulted the West’s noble traditions from the minute she’d met him. But he was friends with Elecia, the granddaughter of the Lord of the West. He was close with Aldrik, and the way he interacted with Baldair in no way resembled slave and master.

As they passed through an intersection, Vhalla heard guards running through a nearby street.

“Stay alert for the Windwalker. If the Windwalker is found, bring her to the royal hotel!”

“You’re sure about this?” Jax paused to ask again.

Vhalla only nodded. She wasn’t going back to the Emperor and letting him chain her, chains that he would vow to exchange for her freedom if she gave him another part of her soul. She would confront her crimes and the royal family with her innocence apparent, when none would question her—whenever that ended up being.

The buildings became danker, darker, more flimsily built and even more poorly maintained. Most everyone on the street wore large cowls that hid their faces so no one would witness their presence in this questionable area of town. Jax stopped and knocked three times on a small door, waited ten breaths, and then knocked again. The door slid open, and a man with beady eyes and a scruffy chin blinked up at them.

“We want to stay.” Jax knelt down.

“What will you trade me?” the man asked.

Jax unclipped the golden bracer he wore over his shirt, a symbol of his membership in the Golden Guard. Beady eyes lit up, and the little man was over-eager for the token. Jax pulled it away as the man reached for it.

“You found this.” Jax spoke low and slow, flames glittering around his fingers. “If anyone asks, you don’t know where it came from. Understand?”

Beady eyes nodded furiously.

“We want two weeks.”

“Fine, fine. Give it here.” The small man snatched it from Jax’s fingers and crawled out of the door.

Jax motioned and Vhalla hunched down to pass through the tiny portal, dropping onto a step, and then onto the packed-earth floor of a truly disgusting room. The small window looked more like a sewage chute that had been used by the people who lived along the streets above. The sleeping palette in the corner smelled of mold and damp. A small fire burned in the opposite corner near some hard tack and salted meat, which she wasn’t sure was good enough for the rats she suspected also shared the space at night.

“What is this place?” Vhalla was breathing through her mouth, trying to get used to the stench.

“It’s a hiding hole.” Jax pulled off his cape, dropping it by the door. “They’re used for more colorful dealings here in the Crossroads. Prostitution, gambling, human trafficking.”

Vhalla’s stomach churned as she stared at the stains on the bed.

“But no one will think to look for you in the underbelly of the Crossroads. It’s generally something only Westerners know of, and you have to then be aware of what to look for to find one.”

“Are you worried about the man selling your cuff?” There weren’t many in the world like it. Whatever merchant he sold it to would certainly realize who it belonged to.

“I’m planning on it. The buyer will take it to Baldair, likely gleeful to win a favor, maybe even one which shows the Fallen Lord has returned to his old ways of noble killing.” Jax reached his hands up, letting down his bun. “But then, Baldair will know I’m with you. That’s the only real explanation. He’ll know I’m keeping you safe.”

“Keeping me safe?” Vhalla asked.

“Baldair gave the guard an order before we left Soricium. That we were to be the ones to find you, and when we did, we were to protect you at all costs. I found you by luck, but that’s why I was looking.”

Vhalla sunk onto the bed, too tired and confused to care about the dank smell that assaulted her nose. “Why?”

“Because he said he considers you his sister.”

Her hand shot up to her necklace, clutching the watch tightly.
What did that mean?

“Craig went South, Erion went to Norin, Raylynn stayed with Baldair, and Daniel went East, to try to find you.”

“How is Daniel?” she asked softly.

“Oh, Baldair put quite the fire under him.” Jax chuckled, sitting next to her, his back against the wall. “He felt nothing but guilt for being the last person you spoke to and for letting you go. He agreed with the prince that by not insisting he accompany you for your protection that he let down his honor as a man and a noble.”

Vhalla rolled her eyes. Jax laughed, which she gave him a look for.

“You aren’t the type of woman who wants that man’s man nonsense.” Jax reached out and took her hand, almost contrary to his statement. But the touch was purely chaste as he began to inspect the superficial cut on her arm. “And even if you did, you already know what you want, don’t you?”

“What I want . . .” Vhalla whispered. She shook the thoughts of Aldrik from her head, her hand falling onto the axe sheathe. Jax’s eyes followed the motion, considering it for a long moment, but said nothing as Vhalla continued. “I want to make the Knights pay. I want to know what they have and make sure they know a new Burning Times will not begin with me.”

“Very well. How do we do that?”

They launched into brainstorming a plan, which continued on and off over the next few days.

Jax confirmed that the princes were going to be involved in a formal gathering for the Lords and Ladies of the Western Court.

Vhalla remembered what Lord Ophain said and immediately began thinking. “All the lords and ladies will be there, right?”

“They should be.” Jax nodded. “They wouldn’t miss a chance to lie through powdered lips.”

Vhalla snorted. “I think we should hit then.”

“But who?”

“Major Schnurr,” Vhalla replied without hesitation. She didn’t know if he was the highest mastermind, but he had created enough problems and given enough orders that Vhalla was forced to assume he was at least someone important.

“Major Schnurr then,” Jax affirmed, a little too eager. “He lives on the far southern end of town.”

Waiting stretched the next two days into eternity. In their limited conversations, Jax never asked about the leather holster always buttoned and strapped tight against her leg. Vhalla thought about telling him, but she didn’t want to make her friend any more nervous and lose his help. She was, however, careful not to touch or interact with him on a physical level more than necessary. Vhalla remembered Jax cautioning Aldrik once about touching her when she was under the influence of crystals. Her friend didn’t seem to mind the lack of contact.