“To the man who is our benefactor goes the honor of the first spoils.” Victor’s voice grated through the cavernous space like rocks scratching over glass.
Stop, Vhalla pleaded futilely with the memory. She knew the time she was witnessing had long passed, but the fragile sanity she’d managed to scrape back together was threatening to break if she was forced to endure another moment of what was coming.
The man stood, walking around the table with a small applause from his peers. Arms folded over his chest, he strolled down the line of shivering people. Each one flinched as his boots clicked past them. Victor shifted in his seat, grabbing both arms of the throne in anticipation.
“They are Commons.” The man walked back to one of the dinner tables, grabbing a long meat knife from a plate. “They are not worth our magic, not even to die.”
With a swift kick to the shoulder, the Common man on the end of the line was sent onto his back. Arms and feet bound, he could do little more than whimper on the floor. Kneeling beside his victim, the hooded soldier gripped his blade firmly.
Placing the silver flat against the man’s flesh at the elbow, he slowly worked the blade under the skin. With careful precision, he picked at the skin, pulling up a tiny flap. He pinched the stretching flesh, proceeding to flay the man’s arm.
Vhalla wanted to scream. She wanted to shout. She wanted to be free of this nightmare. But she couldn’t be. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t escape. So she gave in. She gave the people the only honor she could give them. She bore witness to the horrors Victor’s men reaped upon the Commons. She saw with her own eyes the horrors that could thrive in men’s hearts when their victims begged for freedom, mercy, and the end.
It was during their fifth torture when an arm shook her, freeing her and jolting Vhalla awake. Vhalla promptly retched, barely missing the edge of their sleeping mat.
Aldrik placed his hands on her shoulders, and she flinched. The memories seared behind her eyelids. Covering her mouth, Vhalla struggled to regain control of her body. Her head hurt, her eyes only saw the nightmares, and her shoulders wouldn’t stop trembling.
That entire day, Vhalla felt that same horrible emptiness she’d endured in the dream. A feeling of hopelessness before the horrors. She didn’t know anymore which feelings were her feelings and which feelings Victor was projecting into her. She was untouchable to her friends; no matter how much they yearned to help, it was useless. She had to endure the nightmares, the shakes, the horrors, his voice, one hour after the next.
Egmun had been right, Vhalla mused one night. He had warned them that this would happen if she lived. He had tried to kill her from the onset. He couldn’t say why; his own history was a secret. But he had known. It was just another piece in a puzzle that came together too late. What if they had all actually worked together from the start rather than casting doubt upon each other?
Vhalla looked up at the sky tiredly, too exhausted to straighten her back. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept. Her eyes drifted over to Aldrik; dark circles surrounded his eyes, his cheeks looked hollow, and his skin was translucent. Her condition was beginning to have a very real effect on their Emperor, the only one who could band the empire together and lead the army as they had.
If I die, you die. Vhalla hadn’t believed Victor’s words then. But if they were true, it could present an unexpected solution to their problem. Her mind circled around the notion for the rest of the day’s ride.
That night, Aldrik presented her the last thing she’d expected.
“I thought we wanted to use this connection for me to find out information, to find something useful.” She stared at the vial of Deep Sleep.
“You’re not sleeping. You won’t get to him at all if you keep this up.”
“So you want to drug me?” The words could have been sharp, but they were only tired. She didn’t see the point in fighting any more. “You’ll knock me out because I’m too much of a hassle.”
“That isn’t what this is.” His mouth said one thing, his eyes said another.
“I know what they’re saying, Aldrik. I know this is easier for you.” Vhalla reached for the vial. His hands clasped over hers, gripping her fingers fiercely. Vhalla hid her wince. Victor’s magic and the crystals continued to increase their hold, and Aldrik’s sorcery was becoming a searing pain every time they touched.
“I want you well,” he insisted. “Please, Vhalla.”
“If you insist,” she reluctantly agreed.
When the host stopped for the night, a vial was forced into her hand. Food was shoved in her face, and she was watched carefully while she ate. Then she was told to drink.
Her friends had become her keepers. Her husband was now her overseer before being her lover. They were reduced to handlers, pushing her from one place to the next.
She felt stronger after getting rest each night. But darkness grew on the edge of her mind. It itched and beckoned to her. It told her that she was certainly still dreaming, the Deep Sleep just made her oblivious to it in the morning. She had a nagging sensation of forgetting something important, but she also bore the burden of that forgotten something.
Her improved strength proved to be more than useful at the next crystal barrier they met. Set up where the Great Southern Road forked with the path to the East, Vhalla barely exhausted a thought to dismantle the crystals that were attempting to inundate bolts of pure magic upon them. But once again, she couldn’t recall the ensuing battle with Victor’s forces. All she knew was that she had to swallow that sickening liquid the second the sun hung low in the sky.
Victor had guessed her game, and he began to haunt her during the daylight since he could no longer reach her in dreams. Unlike his prior efforts with direct attacks on her mindset, he now inflicted chatter—bored chatter—upon her. As if she was no longer even fun to toy with.
You are getting closer to me, dear Vhalla, Victor hummed across her consciousness.
“Don’t call me that,” she mumbled under her breath, swaying with Lightning’s slow steps.
I can feel you, he continued. Can you feel me?
Each day, his assault became more relentless than the last. As the mountains rose higher around them, Vhalla’s head slowly began to clear. She was certain it was the last stages of exhaustion and mental psychosis setting in, her body and mind finally throwing in the towel.
Does it not feel better, being closer to me? Closer to that other part of you you’ve been missing?
Come to me.
I have use of you. I had to kill you before—but now, now you are more. I can use you.
Each time she tried to fight against him, it only resulted in another mental assault. So Vhalla learned to keep quiet. She only had to endure a few days more. A few days that would feel like years.
Deep Seep was a finite resource, and they finally ran out. Elecia didn’t have the means to make more, and they were so close to the capital that it seemed unnecessary to spend precious time trying scrape together the ingredients. Without it, Vhalla was terrified to close her eyes. So she lay awake, fighting sleep, fighting thoughts of anything.
Vhalla, Victor whispered across her mind. Aldrik had long since fallen asleep, his back to her. Do you want it to end?
“It will end,” she breathed. “With your death.”
Still so confident? Victor’s amusement reverberated across the edge of her mind. Fine, then come to me.
“I cannot kill you.”
I lied.
“You did not; I know how Bonds work.” Vhalla was not playing his game.
I will destroy the Bond.
Vhalla brought her hand to her mouth to clamp with a sob. Those words were sweeter than any she’d ever heard. It was a lie; she knew it was. But she wanted so desperately for it to be true.
“Why?” Her voice was barely audible to her own ears.
So I can kill you, he snarled.
That much she did believ
e.
Come to me, Vhalla. Set aside your army, and I will set aside mine.
She sat up, looking at Aldrik. His brow was furrowed, and his sleep did not look particularly restful. They had been married for little more than two months, and only one day of it had been happy. She wondered if he regretted taking her hand.
Come to me, Vhalla, the voice called.
“Just you and me?” She began to clip on her armor, painfully slow as to not wake her sleeping husband and Emperor.
Just us. Let us finish what was interrupted in the caves. Victor’s voice held a promising tone.
Vhalla looked back to Aldrik. She ached in the spot where her heart used to be. But that woman was gone. She had been worn down and drugged away.
“One thing,” Vhalla breathed. “If I come to you, you will kill me.” She was hopeless before the monster she saw sitting on the throne in his memories. Vhalla knew it to be true.
That has been my plan from the beginning, Victor said simply, his words twisting a number of ways.
“If I come to you now, like this, spare Aldrik,” Vhalla pleaded weakly.
Why would I spare the man who threatens my throne? Victor sounded amused.
“Because he will be of no threat once you break him with the horrible way in which you will kill me.” Vhalla thought back to the Commons’ screams. She would just be another voice pleading for an end.
Fine. Once his army is dead, his friends and family tortured before his eyes, and his home taken, I will put him on a little boat and let him row to the Crescent Continent and live there, Victor offered.
“So long as he lives.” Vhalla reached out a hand, her fingertips hovering just over Aldrik’s cheek. She didn’t dare touch him.
Vhalla crawled out of the tent and started alone down the Great Southern Road. She took nothing but herself, Lightning, and her armor. All she had left behind was a few wet spots on the Emperor’s pillow where the last of the woman he married had broken at the hands of a psychopath.
CHAPTER 30
Rain. Of course it would rain—it was the mountains in the summer. The fine mist that coated her cheeks stuck her hair to her forehead barely thirty minutes into her ride. Vhalla shivered in the saddle, gripping the wet leather of the horse’s reins.
“I’m sorry, Lightning.” She patted the horse’s side, barely a dark shadow in the overcast moonlight. “I can’t say I know what they’ll do to you when I get there. But no matter how horrible it is, I won’t be long after you.”
Vhalla focused grimly on the road ahead. She put Aldrik behind her. He will be safe there, she knowingly lied to herself. The more distance she could put between her and him, the better he would be. Her emotions had become too wild and barely controllable in Victor’s wake.
The trees served as silent sentinels to her lone march. She could barely remember what they had looked like the last time she had so peacefully travelled this road. It had been that long. She’d travelled it as a soldier on the run, and now this. It had been just two years since she’d met the prince. Two years that encompassed more events in her life than the seventeen before it. Vhalla was fast approaching twenty, but she doubted she’d live through that birthday.
Two years ago, her dreams had only been of sorcery and roses—of a garden that she doubted she’d ever see again. But there had been a madman in their midst. Someone who had known who she was and, one way or another, Vhalla’s relatively peaceful life would’ve ended.
A twig snapped behind her. Vhalla’s head shot up, and she turned, heart racing, just in time to see another horse dart from the trees in her direction.
She was faster, and Lightning surged into a full sprint when spurred by her heels and a snap of the reins. The other rider cut onto the road, giving quick pursuit. The hooves were like thunder in the quiet forest, and Vhalla tried to make out the rider through the misty rain and darkness.
“Vhalla!” Jax called. “Tonight is an awful night for a ride!”
She clenched her jaw. He, out of all people, would be the only one able to make jokes at a time like this. “Go back! Don’t try to stop me!”
He determinedly closed the gap between them, and Vhalla could see he’d left his tent in haste. His long dark hair was heavy with water, and it flapped in chunks behind him. He wore nothing but chainmail, without even a shirt under, from the looks of it. Vhalla couldn’t imagine the metal chill or pinching links as he bounded down the road for her.
“I want to ride with you! Isn’t that my job?” He grinned madly.
Vhalla cursed under her breath. Why couldn’t she have broken like him? She could’ve pushed her madness into being entirely different and detached from the world.
“Go back!” she shouted.
“Don’t do this. You don’t want to do this!”
He was pleading, she realized. He’d seen the growing insanity in her over the days, insanity that was now written as panic on her face. “Go, Jax!” Her cry had a whine to it. She didn’t want him to force her hand. She didn’t want to fight her friend.
“You know I can’t—I won’t do that!” he swore.
Vhalla’s hand cut through the air. She telegraphed her move clearly, making the sweep of her arm as obvious as possible. She had never attacked one of her friends in malice or frustration, and she knew it would break her if she did so now.
Jax wasn’t afraid to do what needed to be done. Fire crackled under Lightning’s hooves. Short bursts, barely enough to burn the wet steed but more than enough to startle. The horse reared, trying to stomp out the flames that had already vanished. Vhalla was thrown off with a large crash of armor.
The hooves of Jax’s horse stilled, and his boots clicked across the stone of the road. Vhalla rolled, pushing herself off the ground, fighting for her feet. She clenched both her fists, showing her Channel was open.
“Vhalla.” Jax held out a hand. “Stop, this isn’t you.”
“You don’t know me!” she screamed.
“I do!” he shouted back, his voice full and deep. “I’ve watched over you for more than a year. Don’t act like I haven’t been there to bear witness to most of the misfortune that has befallen you. Don’t act like I can’t sympathize with half of it!”
“Stay away.” Vhalla took a step back, her breaths ragged. Her heart raced like a cornered animal, and a dangerous beat was starting against her eardrums.
“Vhalla, what do you think you can achieve alone? You have a whole army!” He threw his hands up in the air. “You went from nothing to an army. Hold on a little longer. Two days more, and we will all be there together. I will kill him for you if I must.”
“You can’t.”
“Do you think Victor scares me?” Jax scoffed.
“He should!” She hated she was defending Victor’s skill, but she wasn’t about to have someone make light of the man who had succeeded in scrambling her brain for weeks.
“I will kill him even if it means my life. I vowed I would see you through this alive!”
As if she could have forgotten. They were all tied together so closely now. Knots in their lines of fate binding an Emperor, a library apprentice, a commoner Waterrunner, a noble Ci’Dan, a fallen lord, and a Northern princess. Her hand cut through the air, trying to push him away. Jax wasn’t expecting the gale, and he was pushed off his feet, tumbling down the road.
“You can’t kill him without killing me!” she shouted.
“What?” Jax struggled back to his feet, determined.
“If he dies, I die. If I die, he dies.” Vhalla took a step back. Lightning had finally calmed down just a little further up the road. “Don’t you get it? I-I’m trying to do you all a kindness! Aldrik won’t make that decision, and he won’t let me make it myself once he knows. If I go now, I can absolve you all of having to make that choice!”
“That’s what this is?” Jax matched her retreat with advances. “A funeral march? You’re going off to die like some wounded animal because y
ou don’t want to deal with finding an alternative?”
“I—” the words coated the inside of her mouth and tasted like bile. Was that all this was—a coward’s suicide?
“Vhalla, come back, please,” Jax dropped his voice, and it suddenly became gentle. “We can figure this out still. The sun isn’t up yet. We’ll call this a bad dream.”
“My whole existence has become one bad dream!” She sent wind at him once more.
Jax was ready this time, and a burst of flame pushed against her wind. Vhalla was startled and was forced to blink water from her eyes at the sudden heat. He tackled her, head on, running through the flame. Chainmail clanged loudly on armor, and they rolled on the road. Vhalla struggled against him, throwing a punch.
The heartbeat was threatening to take over, and Vhalla didn’t know how to regain control. She didn’t want to kill Jax, and she knew the moment she gave Victor a hint of control, he would force her hand.
“Stop, Vhalla!” He was like a sea monster, long arms came out of nowhere every time she thought she’d wiggled free, pulling her down again and again.
“Let me go!”
“I won’t!” Something new took over him—hurt. “What about Aldrik? Tell me! What will you have him do when he wakes and his bed is empty? What would you have me tell him? His love, the only woman—the only person—I have ever seen him truly devote himself to has gone to end her own life?”
“My life will put an end to this nightmare!” she screamed, even though his face was inches from hers.
“I don’t believe you have to die for him to.” He shook his head violently. “Did he tell you that? Or did you invent it on your own? Either way, it’s horse shit.”
Vhalla finally stopped fighting. He eased himself off of her and let her gain a seated position. He still held her by the wrists, ready to restrain her once more.
“This isn’t just about Aldrik,” raw emotion cluttered his frantic words. “What about the rest of us? What about Fritz? Elecia cares for you too now; you can see that, right? Oh, Mother, I know that woman has a crooked way of showing it. But she does, I promise you.” Jax leaned forward, struggling to see her face. “We all believe in you two. We are all fighting for you. Do you know why?”