“No one is ‘just looking.’ All desire.” The woman folded her arms under her breasts. “Tell me, what is yours?”
“Sorry to disappoint.” Vhalla dodged her question and looked at Daniel. “Let’s go, I’m hungry.” She grabbed his arm and turned to leave.
“There is not one curiosity you have, Vhalla Yarl?” Vhalla stopped short. “I know your winds will not tell you what the flames will tell me.”
Daniel took a step forward; he put his body half in front of Vhalla’s, an arm stretched across her protectively.
“How do you know my name?” Vhalla whispered in shock.
“I can know many, and tell more, if you wish it.” The woman flipped some hair over her shoulders. “The fire burns away all lies.”
“You’re a sorcerer,” Vhalla stated; it was as though she could smell the magic radiating off the woman.
“I am a Firebearer,” the woman affirmed with a nod.
“What is your name?” Vhalla pushed Daniel’s arm down, taking a step forward.
“I’ve had many names, I could give you one, or I could let you chose a name for yourself. Then it will be something we alone can share.” The woman continued to lounge against one of the cases.
“Tell me the name you would like me to call you. Invented or otherwise.” Instinct told Vhalla to make as few choices as possible when interacting with this woman.
“Vi,” the Westerner said simply. “Would you like me to read your curiosities?”
“Read our curiosities?” Daniel asked.
“I am a Firebearer, I am one with the flames, and with my eyes I can see into the future. You come with curiosities, questions, in your heart and I will give you answers,” the woman proclaimed.
Vhalla was skeptical, but the woman had known her name. “I’ll do it.” She felt overcome with bravery.
The woman gave her a knowing smile. “You must pick four things: three to burn, one to hold.” The Firebearer motioned around the room at the cases, and Vhalla understood. These things weren’t for sale; this was a fortune teller and these were tools for her trade. Vhalla began to stroll about the space, Daniel hovering over her shoulder.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he whispered directly into her ear so the woman would not hear. His proximity was warm, even compared to the heat of the day.
“It’ll be fine. Why not live a little? I am here, and somehow she knew my name.”
Vhalla scanned the strange objects; there was an impossible amount of knickknacks at random order in the cases. A jar of quills caught her eye. Vhalla reached over, thumbing around. Selecting a gray silver plume Vhalla brought it to the counter the woman rested on.
Then Vhalla was wandering again. A bunch of wheat—home—and rose petals, a different feeling of home, collected on the counter. The last thing—something to hold—was the hardest to find. She spent far too long going from case to case looking at this or that.
In the end, it was a fine silver chain that was draped out of a halfway closed jewelry box that caught her eye. Vhalla slid open the glass of the case and pulled lightly on the chain. It was a simple, silver pocket watch that was designed to be worn around the neck. Vhalla stared at it closely. The links were oddly familiar. It reminded her of Aldrik’s, she realized. “This ... this is what I will hold.” Vhalla walked back over to the woman.
“An interesting spread.” The Firebearer sounded amused. “Come.” Vi carried the burning goods into an even smokier backroom. Their shoes were removed as though it was a sacred place. Tapestries and rugs covered the floor and walls, making it feel very small and intimate. They each took a place on either side of a smoldering fire pit.
“Are you certain you wish an observer?” she asked, looking at Daniel. “I will read the futures as I see them.”
“I suppose ...” Vhalla looked up uncertainly at Daniel. “If you don’t mind?”
“I’ll wait right out here.” Daniel slipped back out of the heavy curtain, and Vhalla heard his footsteps fade away.
The woman knelt over the fire pit and reached into the smoldering coals. She lifted them up and dropped them, their orange-hot glow bright in the dim light. Flames licked around her fingers and soon her arms up to her elbows were covered in soot. The woman reached across and held out her thumb, marking Vhalla’s face.
“Vhalla Yarl, blessed bird of the East. The one who can soar without wings. The first chick to fly the cage. The first to return to our land.”
The woman leaned back. Taking the quill, she threw it into the fire pit. Flames roared white. Vi grabbed the wheat, adding it to the fire. The color changed to orange. Finally the rose petals were sacrificed and the fire changed a deep unnatural crimson, almost black.
Vhalla held her breath as the woman eased her face into the flame. Face-down she opened her eyes to the fire, and Vhalla let out an uneasy sigh as the Firebearer was completely unaffected by its heat. Slowly the flames began to die down, leaving a light-purple ash at the bottom of the pit.
“The present burns away, leaving the future to rise from its ashes.” Vi leaned over and took a large handful of the ash and threw it into the air over them. The fine powder began to slowly swirl and trickle down, lighter than snow, and hovered before her, making unknown shapes before finally settling to the floor. Vi’s eyes burned a bright red color.
“You will march to victory, and it will be won upon your silver wings. But the winds of change you will set free will also shatter that tender hope upon which you fly. You will lose your dark sentry,” the woman foretold.
Vhalla clutched the plain pocket watch, her heart beginning to race.
“Two paths will lie before you: night and day. Go west by night. Fade into the comforting obscurity of a shroud of darkness. You will find a familiar happiness there, if you can ignore yearnings for the sun.” Vi paused, looking at the glimmering ash about the room. “The other road will burn away your falsehoods by the light of dawn. You will own your wants for all to see. But take caution, for the fire that will expose you will give birth to an even greater power that will consume the land itself.”
A silence fell over the room as the last of the ash fell to the floor. Vhalla breathed shallowly. Each of the woman’s words seemed to have been carefully and perfectly chosen for an exact meaning. But what that meaning was Vhalla still considered. Vi’s eyes slowly faded to black again.
“And now, for payment.” The woman settled into a more comfortable position.
“Ah, right.” Vhalla put down her sack and reached for her gold.
“I do not want coin.” Vi stopped her.
Vhalla paused, an unsettling feeling worming its way into the back of her skull. “What, do you want then?”
“That watch.” The Westerner pointed to the one which Vhalla was holding.
“This one?” Vhalla held it up; it was the woman’s to begin with. Vi nodded. “All right, of course.”
Vhalla passed it over. She had never expected to keep it, but something strange tingled across her fingers as Vhalla gave it up. It was physically difficult to see it in the other woman’s hands.
“Our current business has concluded.”
They both stood, and Vi held open the back curtain while Vhalla slipped into her shoes.
“Heed my words, Vhalla Yarl.”
Vhalla could only nod at the cryptic message and walked out into the shop proper. She rubbed the soot off her face, trying to figure out how much the woman’s fortune telling bothered her. Vhalla nodded to Daniel and they left silently, back out into the chaos of the market. Somehow, she felt the fiery glow of the woman’s stare halfway down the street.
Vhalla linked her arm with Daniel’s to avoid getting separated from him again. He was also steady and, in truth, she felt a little shaken. Vhalla flexed, gripping him tighter.
“How did it go?” he asked as lightly as possible.
“It was an experience.” Vhalla attempted a chuckle. She could tell he didn’t buy the brave front, but he didn’t follow up w
ith any questions on what type of experience it was.
Daniel was in good form the rest of the day as he showed her the market. He let her walk as close as she liked to him and neither pushed her away nor pulled her closer. Normally they were arm–in-arm for practicality, but if she was completely honest, she was enjoying the position of being physically close to someone who wasn’t confusing or frustrating.
They stopped at a food stand and purchased balls of rice that had vegetables inside. Vhalla laughed as she fed him a bite of her flavor and half dropped out onto his lap. For dessert, they tried a square sweet had a strange stiff, jelly-like texture. Vhalla bought a small box to bring back to Larel and Fritz.
After the morning’s affair finally faded, the day gave way to an all-around positive experience in the market. Vhalla purchased a small bottle of perfume and a potpourri ball for her bag from a scents shop, thinking they may come in handy during the rest of their march in the desert.
They passed a candy shop and found the lemon peels that Aldrik had mentioned. Vhalla picked up two bags, one for her and one for him. He had brought them up, and he had liked the lemon cake. Daniel purchased a new dagger that could be worn on the leg and short swords that he insisted were worlds better than his own. When Vhalla told him she had no weapons, he was aghast and that hunt absorbed the rest of their afternoon.
She finally decided on a thin, almost needle-like dagger that was just a little less than the length of her forearm. It came with a holster to wear on the arm, the hilt right near the wrist. Daniel pointed out that she’d lose a lot of stability and strength choosing such a small option. But as Vhalla clipped it onto the underside of her forearm and rolled her sleeve down over it, she instantly liked her choice. With a normal shirt, it was perfectly concealed. The hilt was just the right length to not impede her movement. Yet in a quick motion she had it drawn.
In all, the day cost her almost all the money she had brought. But they were only in the Crossroads for a few more days and most things seemed to have been taken care of for her.
Even outside the market her arm still lingered around Daniel’s. The night chill was setting in and he was familiar and warm. Vhalla smiled, fussing with the dagger strapped to her left arm.
“It doesn’t work as a concealed weapon if you’re showing people it’s there,” Daniel scolded with a grin.
“You’re right, I suppose,” she agreed with a laugh. He hadn’t touched the new dagger strapped to his calf for hours.
They strolled through the market and back to the central square, where the East-West Way met the Great Imperial Way. Firebearers walked about lighting the lamps, and Vhalla found it amazing to see a society that had sorcerers so integrated in helpful ways. She smiled, eyes following one in particular for no reason. He moved to a building with large circular stained glass. Vhalla paused shifting her bag on her shoulder.
It was a bad idea. She was having another moment where she needed to admit it, and stop herself. Vhalla took a breath. “I—” She paused, glancing between Daniel and the building. “I need to make a quick stop. The inn is right over there. You can go ahead.”
“No, I’m not letting you walk alone in the Crossroads at night,” he said definitively. “It can be dangerous.”
“Very well,” she sighed softly. “Then wait out here for me?”
“That, I can do.” There was apprehension locked in his eyes, but Daniel kept it away from his tongue and spared her comment.
Vhalla took a breath and summoned her courage, walking to the front doors. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to see Aldrik again. Wasn’t she mad at him? But at the root of all her conflicting feelings was the need to see him, to say what needed to be said: the truth.
Soft music, a Southern sound, played from one of the rooms off the main lobby. Vhalla looked uncertainly at the shut doors and opulent parlors. A man cleared his throat from behind the front desk.
“I have a delivery for the Crown Prince,” Vhalla announced.
The older man folded his bony fingers and regarded her skeptically. “What could you possibly have?”
“I’m the Windwalker,” she declared, attempting to use credentials to dodge the question.
“That is most excellent, and what is so important that he would not leave word?”
Deflated that her approach hadn’t worked, she lost her resolve and mumbled, “He ... We have work to do ... for the Emperor.”
“I’m sure ...” The man didn’t believe her in the slightest. “Unfortunately the prince has explicitly asked not to be disturbed. Do take care.”
Vhalla sighed softly, resigned.
“Vhalla?” Prince Baldair stopped in a hallway joining the lobby with other rooms, walking over to her. “What’re you doing here?”
“My prince, I was just leaving.” Vhalla keenly remembered the last time she and Prince Baldair had spoken.
“She was asking to see the crown prince,” the treacherous clerk informed.
“Vhalla.” The golden prince frowned, glancing at the man and thinking better of continuing. “I’ll take her there myself.”
“You will?” Vhalla and the desk man said in unison.
“He’s shut himself up; I’ve not seen him once. Company is a good thing, no?” Baldair placed his hand on the small of her back and practically pushed her up a wide staircase.
“You’re really taking me to see him?” Vhalla asked as they reached the second floor landing.
“Of course not, but I am going to ask you what you think you’re doing here.” In private, the prince dropped all decorum.
“It’s nothing important,” Vhalla muttered. She was already second guessing her mission.
“I thought I told you to stay away.” Baldair frowned.
“It’s not your business.” Vhalla pulled the bag of candy from her pack. “And I also wanted to give him these.”
“Lemon peels?” Prince Baldair recognized the sweet shop’s marking. “Vhalla ...” he sighed. “I don’t know what kind of relationship you think you can have with my brother—”
“I don’t want one,” she said defensively. The words crossed her lips before Vhalla could think about them, fueled by spite.
“No, you do. He has you under his spell,” the golden haired prince insisted.
“What are you talking about?” Vhalla took a step away.
“Why else would anyone want my brother?”
He caught her wrist as she tried to leave. “Let me go.”
“I’m trying to help you.” Somehow, Prince Baldair managed to sound sincere.
“Let me go!” Vhalla tugged against his firm grip.
“What is all this commotion?” a voice called from the end of the hall. Vhalla’s blood turned to ice in her veins. Elecia, in a loose sleeping tunic and nothing else, stood barefoot and groggy eyed. She yawned as she came closer. “Vhalla? What are you doing here?”
“Nothing!” Vhalla said, trying to make a hasty retreat. “I’m trying to leave right now.” She clutched the lemon peels to her chest and tried to turn, but Prince Baldair still held her wrist.
“You’re still in there? At this hour?” Prince Baldair’s surprise at the sight of Elecia caused him to ignore Vhalla’s tugs against his grip.
“Baldair, quit being an ass-face, take the girl, and go,” Elecia snapped. She seemed exhausted and worn thin. Somehow even her hair seemed less fluffy than normal.
“Just what have you two been doing all this time?” Prince Baldair inquired.
“Can your curiosity be satiated solo?” Vhalla asked weakly, still attempting to leave.
“Brother, by the Mother, I swear ...” A low voice, rough sounding, as though it hurt to speak—yet still very clearly annoyed—came from the back of the hall. Elecia turned and sprinted back to Aldrik.
“You need to go back to bed.” The other woman stood in front of him, a dark-skinned palm contrasting with the pale skin of his bare chest.
Vhalla’s eyes widened as she took them in. Elecia barely dress
ed, tired, her hair a mess. Aldrik looked as close to sleep as she’d ever seen him—and half-dressed. His pale, well-sculpted chest brought a hot flush to her cheeks. Aldrik didn’t just tolerate the contact; he didn’t seem to mind Elecia’s proximity, her touch. He moved his hand to place it on the other woman’s shoulder.
The bag of lemon peels slipped from Vhalla’s hand and dropped to the floor.
The noise of the bag dropping and the candy scattering silenced all parties involved. Aldrik’s eyes were the last to find Vhalla but they met hers with a mix of surprise and confusion. Vhalla took a quivering breath.
There was nothing to say. The silence stretched another painful minute. Just before it was about to break she turned on her heels, wrenched her hand from Prince Baldair’s slack grip, and sprinted.
Vhalla ran down the stairs, out the doors, and into the square. She tilted her head back and took a deep breath. The cool air hitting her lungs made her choke, and Vhalla doubled over. The sobs had already started. She pressed her eyes closed and felt her whole body trembling.
A pair of hands tentatively placed themselves on her shoulders, hovering a moment before making contact.
“Vhalla,” Daniel whispered.
She spun. Her cheeks soaked with her barely-silenced crying. “I told you, I am the queen of bad ideas.” Vhalla tried a smile that was quickly consumed by the tears.
Daniel pulled her to him and wrapped his arms gently around her shoulders. He whispered soothing words into the crown of her head and held her. Vhalla pressed her face into his chest, clutching his shirt. She felt her knees give out.
Daniel supported her. He held her, saying nothing, asking nothing, as she sobbed. Vhalla didn’t care who saw her. Behind her eyes was the singular image of Aldrik and another woman. A woman whom she knew had been in the palace for some time, of some noble birth if every suspicion was correct. They were both adults, of the right age, and of the right breeding. They were together, interrupted from something, in the night. She thought of his bare chest and it stirred something within Vhalla, which only made her weep more.
Vhalla clutched Daniel as though his arms were the last thing holding her sanity together.