Crystal Crowned [ARC] (7 page)

“So, ladies’ room and gents’ room?” Elecia inquired as they headed up the stairs. Aldrik shot her a look that explained such was not the case, eliciting a sharp gasp. “Don’t make me sleep with
them
!”

“You’ve been sleeping with them the whole time.” Aldrik rolled his eyes and thrust one key into Elecia’s hand.

“That’s different! There was no alternative. This is so improper.”

“Be improper with me, Lady Ci’Dan.” Jax waggled his eyebrows.

“Don’t give the lady trouble,” Aldrik scolded.

“I’m never trouble!” Fritz pouted.

Jax smirked proudly. “I’m always trouble.”

“Cousin, you are lucky I love you.” Elecia’s sharp glare didn’t have weight behind it, and Aldrik smiled tiredly. “And I get first choice of bed.”

“Second!” Fritz bounded into their room behind her.

Jax didn’t move. “I’d like to stand guard outside your chambers.”

Vhalla blinked in surprise, realizing he was addressing her. She’d almost forgotten that he had been her close shadow on the ride, not only because they were traveling in a pack, but also because he had somehow become her sworn guard.

“Jax, go rest.” The Westerner folded his arms on his chest at Aldrik’s demand. “If something happens to her while she’s tucked in my arms, it will never be blamed on you.”

“Happy to serve.” Jax bowed, pausing before the still open door Elecia and Fritz had disappeared within. “Oh, and if you two need a third, be sure to let me know!” With a wink and a laugh, he popped into the room.

Aldrik shook his head. “That man.”

“Never a dull moment,” Vhalla agreed.

The room was small and tidy. A single rope bed, a small table at its side. The window was drawn to keep out the cool nighttime breezes.

“What is it?” Aldrik asked, closing the door behind him.

“They didn’t have glass the last time I was here.” Vhalla rested her hand on the pane. “But not much else has changed.”

Two warm palms fell on her hips, and Vhalla felt the length of his body behind her. The perpetual heat that radiated off him was a contrast to everything else in the harsh world. She leaned back into that warmth, letting his hands slide around her front to hold her tightly to him.

“You’ve changed,” his breath moved her hair as he spoke.

“I have,” she whispered in reply. If nothing else, that one fact was certainly true. When last in the East, she had been a girl without purpose. Now she had an inkling of what the weight of the world felt like. She knew how the title of nobility fit her shoulders and the greater role she had to play. She wouldn’t return to her father an unaware girl.

He rounded to face her. “And I love the woman you have become, deeply and completely.”

“I love you, Aldrik.” Vhalla savored his touch as he palmed her face. “And I fear I always will.”

“Ah, Vhalla.” He chuckled, pausing just before his lips came into contact with hers. “That is the one thing I do not fear.”

The Emperor had certainly been fearless that night when it came to heaping his adoration upon his lady. He had reminded her of the fire that lived in his veins. He immolated her passion at the altar of their mutual vows. The early rays of dawn peeking through the glass of the window found them still tangled.

A banging on the door interrupted their otherwise peaceful morning, pulling them from slumber. Vhalla groaned and rolled over. Two arms enveloped her, stronger than they looked.

“Aldrik.” She pressed her face into his bare chest. They had found a basic washroom the night previously and, while he didn’t have access to his usual eucalyptus scented soap, he still held the aroma of smoke and steel, a scent all his own.

“What is it?”

“You’re here.” Given the madness that had passed, something about waking up in his arms, skin on skin, was wonderfully impossible. It affirmed that not only had last night been real, but it had been the tiny glimpse of a future they fought for.

“Where else would I be?” He chuckled deeply, laying a sweet kiss upon her.

“Nowhere else, never again.”

“Are you both up yet?” Jax called through the door. “Let me know if you’re naked so I can come in.”

“Jax.” Elecia’s voice was sharp as the daggers her eyes likely were throwing him. “Do not make me think anything of the sort about my cousin,
please
.”

“We all know what happened. It’s not like they were quiet,” Jax shot back.

Elecia began singing a Western song, loudly, over her companion’s words.

“What did we do, forcing those two together?” Vhalla laughed as she sat up. She didn’t feel the least bit guilty for her passions; there wasn’t even a ghost of a blush on her cheeks.

“Elecia could survive loosening up a bit.” Aldrik stood.

Now, there was a sight that would put color on her face.

Jax began rambling, “Oh my liege, the day has begun, let us start the fun, the time of the sun, has indeed come, so won’t you please—”

“Oh, Mother, don’t talk in rhymes,” Aldrik groaned through the door. “It’s the only thing worse than your sense of humor. We’ll be down in a moment.”

Their illusion of peace dissipated like the morning’s fog over a field. Soon enough, clothes were back on their rightful frames and cloaks were thrown over their shoulders. Vhalla considered Aldrik as they walked down the stairs to join the group.
The Emperor was going to be in her home.

“You lot are up early,” Geral observed, a steaming cup of wheat tea between his hands.

Vhalla returned the keys with a smile. “So are you.”

“True enough.” The man paused, his expression sobering. “Dodging the Inquisitors?”

“Inquisitors?” She looked to her comrades to see if they knew of what Geral spoke, but the group looked just as confused as Vhalla.

“I thought you would’ve heard . . .”

“There’s been a lot to hear,” Vhalla encouraged delicately.

“It’s all the Supreme King’s doing,” Geral began.

“Do you support the regime change?” They should’ve found that information before staying under the man’s roof.

“Do I look like a man who would support senseless violence?”

“You don’t.” Vhalla gave a breath of relief. “So, what is the Supreme King doing with Inquisitors?”

“They are sweeping the continent, but their presence has been especially felt here in the East. They have a way to use crystals to see if someone has the powers of a Windwalker.”

Vhalla was instantly reminded of Victor’s ledger. He knew there would be more. Not many, but they would be out there. A Windwalker could be the only possible opposition to his powers. The information was as useful as it was terrifying for the people who were confirmed to have the ability.

Geral continued, “A group of strange travelers, like yourselves, may want to know information like that.”

“Thank you,” Vhalla said sincerely, raising her hood to leave.

“I think it’s funny,” Geral added. “I only ever heard of one Windwalker in all my years. The first one to leave the East’s nest and fly. That was the girl named Vhalla Yarl.” He rested his elbows on the table leaning forward. “Though, I suppose she wouldn’t be a girl any longer. You know, she would stay with her parents at my inn during the Festival of the Sun. And when I heard the tales of all that was happening to her—the good, the bad—I cheered for her alongside the rest of the East.”

Vhalla’s hand went up to her shoulder, gripping it just above the scar.

“She’s the pride of the East. A beacon of a new future where people may start seeing Cyven as more than just some pastures and crops between North and South.” Geral sipped his cup once more. “What happened to her was a crime. But, then again, I hear she had a good record of dodging death itself. The truth could be right under our noses.”

“Things have a strange way of working out.” Vhalla’s words were laden with shock.

“They do indeed.” The man shifted his hands and turned the mug; upon it was the blazing sun of Solaris. “Now go, before the Inquisitor begins his rounds through the town.”

Vhalla took one last look at Geral before the door closed behind them. His warm words had restored her—and terrified her. These were her people, and they stood behind her. She had betrayed them, and now she had to do whatever was necessary to save them.

“How much did we pay him?” Elecia broke the silence as they were checking their saddlebags.

“Three silver,” Aldrik answered.

Elecia and Fritz shared a look. “Fritz and I went down when you two were being slow. The man said we had given too much on accident.” She held out her hand to Aldrik, three shining coins in its center.

He had returned the money.

The thunder of horses interrupted Vhalla’s thoughts. Five men rode boldly into the center of town, up to the small stage she had admired fondly the day before. Each echo of their footfalls upon the wood sounded like a dagger to her childhood.

“By the order of Supreme King Anzbel, we have been sent to inquire as to the magical merit of this town.” All five wore black cloaks with a silver wyrm stitched upon the back. People seemed to shrink into their homes as he spoke. “All towns in the East will be searched. The searches will be random and continue in perpetuity. All those presently in the town are asked to report now.”

“We should go,” Elecia whispered. “While they’re distracted by the initial bulk of people.”

“We should,” Fritz seconded.

Vhalla didn’t move. She watched as the people of Paca,
her people,
walked forward to the center of town. Diligent and dutiful to orders set forth by those in positions of leadership, the Easterners lined up.

The leader gave a nod to two of his men, who began making a quick sweep of the town, starting on the opposite end.

“Those who are known sorcerers, please report to my assistants and you will be asked to demonstrate your gift from the Gods and bypass the test.” He motioned to the two men at his side. Vhalla noticed none of them were Eastern. “Everyone else, the test is simple. You will hold a crystal. Should it shine, our righteous and Supreme King has demanded you shall be put to death for possessing the accursed powers of the wind.”

Vhalla couldn’t breathe. He’d said he wanted to make a world for all sorcerers. He’d lied. Victor was King Jadar born again.

“Victor is afraid,” she forced her mind to keep moving past her anger. “He’s afraid of Windwalkers. We can still stop him.”

“He can’t honestly think that there are more Windwalkers.” Aldrik shook his head.

“There are.” Vhalla didn’t even look back to see the confounded stare on the Emperor’s face. “There have been more. They’ve all been kept hidden or killed.”

The leader produced a crystal from his bag and, one by one, he moved through the line of people, passing it from person to person. Vhalla wondered how long it would be before the Inquisitor began showing signs of the taint. She remembered Daniel’s stories of monsters and wondered if it was all some greater part of Victor’s machinations.

For nearly everyone the crystal did nothing. Vhalla held her breath, glancing at the other two Inquisitors slowly making their way from where they hid in the shade of the stables toward the crowd.

“Vhalla, we need to leave,” Jax urged, as she was the only one of them not mounted.

She took a step back toward Lightning. She couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t stop this.

And then she heard a scream.

The boy was maybe twelve, not far from his coming of age ceremony, barely old enough to have fuzz on his chin. He looked around in panic as everyone gaped at him—even the Inquisitors seemed surprised. The crystal glowed faintly from between his clutched fingers.

“No!” A woman, presumably his mother, swatted the stone away like the bad omen it was. “No, it-it’s a mistake!”

“I am truly sorry.” The Inquisitor did not sound sorry in the slightest, he sounded almost giddy. “But our Supreme King made these crystals with his divinely given magic; they cannot be wrong.”

The man in all black grabbed the boy’s arm. His mother grabbed the other.

“Please, please, he . . . I will raise him right; I will raise him to love the Supreme King. We will not let his magic show.” The woman began to sob.

“The law is clear.” The Inquisitor ripped the boy away as the town looked on in horror.

Vhalla realized it didn’t matter if Victor could find all the Windwalkers. Displays like this would ensure that none of them would ever expose themselves to the world. Magic would become legally outlawed again in the East; it would be even worse than the Burning Times. Victor was clever, and he was sending a clear message for anyone who’d dare expose their powers.

“No!” the woman screamed. “No, no!”

“He’s just a boy!” another brave soul protested.

“No,” Vhalla took another step toward Lightning.

“You lot! You must report!” One of the Inquisitors making their round of the town had finally caught sight of them.

“He’s my boy!” Other members of the town had begun to restrain the woman for her own sake as the Inquisitor dragged the lad up the line.

“Stop!” Vhalla cried and dug her heels into Lightning. “Stop this!”

“What?” The leader looked honestly puzzled for the briefest of moments as she raced down the small street through the center of town. He pushed the boy to the ground defiantly. “You will be next for going against the Supreme King’s decree!”

“Fine, but let him go,” Vhalla spat back fearlessly. “You don’t want him. I’m the one you want.” She threw down her hood. “I am Vhalla Yarl, Duchess of the West, Lady of the Southern Court, and the one whom you call the Windwalker.”

The Mother, hanging high in the sky above, must have looked fondly upon Vhalla’s otherwise foolish act because, at that moment, a gale swept through the town. It pushed her cloak about her form from behind, as though an invisible hand was placed upon her. Everyone held their breath.

“She lies!” one of the assistants cried. “Do not hesitate!”

The assistant threw out his hand and a spear of ice impaled the boy through his center. A cough of blood, a gurgled cry, and the mask of death was upon him.

With an anguished scream, Vhalla charged. She didn’t care if she no longer had her wind. She would rip the man limb from limb with her own two hands.