Failed Future (Air Awakens: Vortex Chronicles Book 3) Page 12

  “Maybe that’s just what happens to the people we love.” Her mind returned to one of the last thoughts she’d had when she’d seen him previously. “Maybe we’re meant to hurt and be hurt. Maybe we’re just meant to burn.”

  Vi took a small step away from him. Taavin caught her wrist. Sparks crackled, bright yellow, tangled with a hazy blue glow that Vi knew as the hallmark of his magic—of Yargen’s power.

  “Fine,” he breathed. “If we’re meant to burn, then we burn together.”

  They were both breathing heavily. His exhales were her inhales, until the air between them was thin and she felt dizzy. Vi stared up at his emerald eyes long enough to watch their crystalline depths go hazy. “Taa—”

  His hand was in the back of her hair, grabbing, pulling. His free arm wrapped around her, holding her to him. Vi’s eyes barely had time to close before his mouth crashed against hers.

  Taavin’s teeth scraped against her lips and Vi parted them with a soft groan, allowing him entry. The rock wall behind her dug into her back. She managed to squeeze her hands between them. Her fingers fought their way up his chest, to his face, tugging him closer.

  Sunlight… Even in the darkness, he smelled of sunlight. He smelled of fields warmed in the afternoon, of the heat on fresh laundry pulled inside on a hot day, of joy and laughter over a cool drink in the balmy hours after dusk.

  He shifted his legs and Vi’s hips pressed forward slightly, their bodies completely flush. His fingers gripped her hard enough that they might leave bruises. Vi almost hoped they did. She needed proof this moment was real. She wanted something to look at later and remind herself it wasn’t just a fleeting daydream.

  Taavin finally pulled away a fraction, breathless, their noses rubbing and foreheads nearly touching.

  “Perhaps you’re right about us burning together, because only you can set me on fire.” Vi leaned forward, catching his mouth for several more moments. Taavin kissed her slowly this time, almost sweetly, as if he was savoring every taste. As if they both somehow knew that these desperate, fleeting moments were the best they would have.

  “Vi.” Her name was husky on his swollen lips. “I’ve never had much… but this is all I have now. This whole world may need you and not know it, but no one needs you more than I do, I promise you that. I will make mistakes. But I need you to believe in me, trust me.” His thumb caressed her cheek as his eyes locked with hers. Gut-wrenching pain filled her with that gaze. He was asking for something she didn’t know if she could give any longer. “I need you to accept that this, however perfect it can feel, isn’t. I want you to stay with me despite that fact. Stay with me because it is messy, and raw, and something we need but may also be terrified to want.”

  She pressed her eyes closed. Vi took a quivering breath. Say yes. Just say yes. She tried to will the word to her lips.

  What would happen if she gave herself to him even more than she already had, and then he betrayed her? Would there be anything left unbroken in her after something like that?

  “Taavin,” her voice was raspy and thin, barely forced through a thick throat. “What if I can’t?”

  “Good sense would have me give up on you… But when it comes to you, Vi, I seem to be lacking in good sense.”

  Vi tightened her arms around his neck and shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “As am I,” he murmured.

  “Sarphos will be back soon and I have so much to tell you. So much we should discuss… but all I want to do is hold you.” Vi let out a small, bitter laugh. There was so much to say. She had yet to tell him of the scythe, of Jayme, of Adela. There would never be enough time for all the words unspoken between them.

  “Then hold me, and let the world wait.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Eventually, King Noct’s hospitality would run out. Everything had its limits. And before that happened, Vi wanted to be as prepared as possible to start on the road again.

  But with so much to do, she wasn’t sure where to start.

  Vi opened a heavy wooden door to a library, tucked away in a quiet corner of the palace. Cool air rushed to greet her, carrying the scent of stale leather and parchment. The atmosphere was that of opening a time capsule, the room still and coated in a thick layer of dust.

  The only evidence that anyone had used this room recently was an open journal sitting out on the table, two empty inkwells and one still full laid out next to it.

  The private library of the royal family was small, but tall, and every bookcase that lined its walls was packed. It was more than enough information to keep herself busy yesterday and today… perhaps tomorrow. But Taavin was getting stronger, and so was she. And that meant they needed to continue onward.

  Her father was out there, and the longer she dallied, the longer he suffered.

  Vi ran her fingertips absentmindedly along the spines of the books, working her way toward the back corner where she’d left off last night. Selecting a narrow, wide book, Vi lifted it off the shelf and brought it over to her table. She flipped through the maps within, landing on the page she’d been working from yesterday.

  Settling into her spot at the table, Vi got to work.

  “You really have a thing for maps, huh?” Arwin’s voice startled her. Vi had filled five pages in the journal and half the inkwell was gone, so she must’ve been working for at least two hours. “You burned the midnight oil here last night, and were back at it before breakfast.”

  “I do love maps.” Vi looked back down at her transcriptions. She’d been sketching from memory the map Sehra had shown her, the maps she’d grown up with on the Dark Isle. Now, she was making slow work of transcribing the coastlines of Meru—comparing them to what she knew, comparing them to the morphi’s records of maps through the ages.

  Two pages earlier in the journal, she’d been working on a route to Adela’s Isle of Frost.

  “Here, breakfast.” Arwin held out a sandwich as she sat across the table from her. Vi took a generous bite, ignoring the smear of ink her fingertips left on the bread’s hard crust.

  “Thanks,” Vi mumbled over the food, looking back at her work.

  “Why do you like maps so much?”

  Slowly, Vi looked up. The question was calm, genuine. There wasn’t even a hint of a jab. So Vi answered an honest question honestly.

  “I told you, I grew up captive.”

  “You said you were sent to the northernmost territory of your Empire, for politics and prophecy. Nothing about being captive.”

  “Well, it effectively made me a captive.” Vi glanced up again from her journal, seeing pity in Arwin’s eyes. She laughed softly, shaking her head. “It wasn’t that bad. I lived a fairly good life…” Her thoughts went to Taaivn’s imprisonment. Yes, her time in the North could’ve been much worse. “But maps were my window to the world, how I made sense of all the space spreading out around me that I never thought I’d get to see.”

  “I see,” Arwin murmured.

  “What about you?” Vi dared to ask. “What are you interested in?”

  “Mostly combat.”

  “Just combat? Nothing else?” Vi knew many soldiers who delighted in honing their skills. But underneath the armor, they were still people. They had passions and hobbies.

  “Sometimes I sing.” Then, as if suddenly regretting the burst of honesty, Arwin stood quickly. “But speaking of combat, I should get back to training.” She nearly bolted for the door, catching herself on its frame and turning back to Vi. “So should you… I’m sure you’ll be on your way toward the end of the world soon enough, and you’re going to kill no evil gods with your current scythe skills.”

  Before Vi could reply, Arwin left.

  She spent a few more hours poring through the maps, working as quickly as possible to get as much information down as she could from the records of the Twilight Kingdom. There was a wealth of information she’d never be able to comb through. As Vi returned the last book to the shelf with a sigh, she scanned the room
one more time.

  What if, somewhere in here, was information on the scythe? Its history? The history of all the mysterious crystal weapons?

  She could spend months looking through every book, searching for information that may well not be there—that likely wasn’t there. Arwin was right, she didn’t have much time, and she had to make the most of what she had. So, clutching the journal to her chest, Vi left the library behind and made for the training room.

  “I was wondering how long you’d keep me waiting.” Arwin’s brow was slick with sweat when Vi entered. A spear in her hand today.

  “Thanks for waiting at all.” Vi adjusted her grip on the scythe as she crossed over. Magic flowed through her, bright and immeasurably powerful.

  “You need me.” Arwin shrugged.

  “I do.” In multiple ways, Vi realized. A plan had been forming in the back of her mind while she had been working on routes to the Isle of Frost.

  Taavin had said there was a shift protecting the Isle of Frost, like that surrounding the Twilight Kingdom. Originally, Vi had thought to try to get Sarphos to come with them. But perhaps Vi could convince Arwin to come along to continue her training with the scythe. It was another avenue to pursue and seemed more likely than convincing the soft Sarphos to venture out on a dangerous journey. Vi wasn’t about to leave their access to Adela’s stronghold to chance.

  Vi considered the best next steps as they traded blow for blow in the sparring ring.

  “Remember, distance.” Arwin knocked the pole of her weapon with Vi’s. “You have to manage the distance with that thing.” Vi adjusted her feet, and Arwin held up her spear again. “Dodge and slash—catch my hip with the curved part of that weapon and pull.”

  They repeated the motions again, and again. They did them slowly and at a too-far distance to start, then sped up as Vi became more comfortable. Just when she thought she’d gathered the hang of it, Arwin changed the move.

  “All right, put that to the side for now,” Arwin finally commanded. Vi’s arms were like jelly, limp at her sides the moment she let go of the scythe. “Let’s practice a little bit of combat, now that we’ve run through drills.”

  All Vi could do was nod. She was winded, legs exhausted, arms failing. But she wasn’t about to back down. Arwin walked over to the weapon rack, grabbing a wooden halberd. With a pulse of her magic, the polearm had turned into a wooden scythe, nearly identical to her weapon. She tossed it over and Vi was shocked she still had the reflexes and strength to catch it.

  “Why haven’t I been practicing with this the whole time?”

  “We weren’t moving that fast, or doing anything that dangerous, during the drills. I wanted you to grow accustomed to the actual weight of your weapon. But for sparring… I’m not going to even risk having you knick me with that thing. Who knows what it’d do to me.”

  Vi looked to the weapon, and agreed. It was likely for the best… She’d always heard crystals led to madness, and monstrous corruptions of mind and body. But the scythe had also been in the hands of the morphi for generations. Perhaps, somehow, they were immune… or perhaps they’d just never handled the weapon enough. Vi wouldn’t take chances, in case it was the latter.

  “I’ll use different weapons each round. Your only objective is to land a killing blow on me.”

  “Understood,” Vi said, and the sparring commenced.

  With two weapons, Arwin formed an X to catch her scythe, pushing it off and digging the blunted wooden point of one into the soft part of her throat. When Arwin wielded a single sword, Vi had slightly more luck keeping the woman at distance—until Arwin caught the pole in her hands, yanking the wooden weapon forward and Vi with it. She stumbled and fell, blinking up at the sword in her face.

  “I know you have more than that, up with you,” Arwin commanded gruffly. They clasped forearms and Arwin pulled her upright. Vi swayed wearily and ignored every stinging pain in her body. “You were good on distance there; you just need to identify openings to attack better. Defense is only useful to create an opening for offense.”

  “I’ll focus on openings, then,” Vi said, and they continued on.

  Arwin was nimble and skilled—a trained warrior through and through. No matter how many hours she put in, Vi wasn’t about to make up for the difference in their years of experience.

  And yet… when an opening presented itself, Vi took it.

  Arwin’s weight shifted—Vi recognized her preparation for a lunge. She dodged to the side. Swiping the blade low, Vi hooked Arwin’s ankle and pulled. The woman was sent off-balance, dancing from foot to foot to try to stay upright.

  Vi pushed the blade this time, hitting the fronts of her ankles. Arwin slammed the tip of her wooden sword into the ground, using it for support. She crouched low, about to strike again. But Vi was too fast.

  She swung the scythe around, stopping it right at Arwin’s neck.

  For a brief second, they both panted, staring at each other.

  “Well done.” Arwin recovered her breath much faster than Vi. “Perhaps you have a fighter in you yet.”

  Vi eased the scythe away from Arwin, leaning against it for support. “I have a good tutor.”

  Arwin flashed her a genuine smile, taking the scythe and returning it with her wooden sword to the rack. Vi took the expression as a sign of hope—perhaps she really could convince the woman to go with her on her journey.

  “Come along.” Arwin started for the exit.

  “Where are we going?” Vi grabbed the crystal scythe and followed Arwin out of the training room. They went through the normal doors, into the usual hallway, but then took an unexpected turn down a wing of the palace Vi had never been to before.

  “You’ll see soon enough.” Arwin glanced over her shoulder, making sure Vi was still close behind. “You did well today. You deserve—and need—some recovery.”

  The potent scents of flowers and woody herbs filled the air on clouds of steam. Arwin led her into a bathing room. There, Vi discovered the source of the aroma—three large tubs, like barrels cut in half, filled to the brim with steaming water.

  “Strip.” Arwin pointed to a tall table on one half of the room, then to the tubs. “And soak. It does wonders for the body.”

  Vi hovered as Arwin headed for the tall table on the room’s other side. She slowly peeled her sweat-drenched shirt off her skin, revealing a tight leather binding underneath before Vi could look away. Vi would have called it a corset, but it covered the breasts only—not down to the hips. Additionally, it had thick straps that wrapped over the shoulders and—most fascinating of all—it was fashioned to cover the entire breast, accentuating no cleavage, and was tied in the front.

  “What?” Arwin caught her staring. “This?” She motioned to a fairly large, crescent-shaped birthmark underneath her collar bone.

  “No, not that. Why do you bind your chest like that?” Vi blurted.

  “Keeps them out of my way. They’d be way too painful to deal with if they were bouncing about during combat or practice.” Arwin paused, mid-loosening of the ties. Her eyes caught Vi’s. “What do you do?” she asked cautiously.

  Mutual fascination filled the air to the point that Vi felt dizzy with it and couldn’t help laughing. And the laughter felt so good that she didn’t even bother trying to stop it.

  “Look at us,” Vi said finally when she was under control. “Fascinated by each other’s lives, even when it comes to undergarments.” Arwin gave her a small grin. “We have nothing like that where I’m from. Our underclothes are meant to tighten the waist or accentuate the bust.”

  “We have corsets too,” Arwin said.

  “I see.”

  “They’re just not practical for my line of work.” Arwin started for the laces of her chest leathers and Vi quickly averted her eyes, giving the woman some privacy. “I really don’t care how small my waist is.”

  Vi set the scythe to the side and quickly undressed before crossing to the tub next to Arwin’s. She stepped up onto the l
edge that surrounded it, dipping her toes into the water—feeling around for the small step she knew must be there. Finding one, she brought the other leg over and sat. What Vi had thought was water turned out to be a bright teal substance that reminded her of the consistency of an egg yolk. Any potential to be unnerved by such a comparison dissolved as a rush tingled up her body to her head, making everything feel light. Every muscle in her body relaxed all at once.

  “Oh my…” Vi sighed softly, sinking back into the tub, the back of her head resting against the edge.

  “Nice, isn’t it?” Arwin slung her arms over the side of her tub closest to Vi, chin resting on her forearms.

  “I’ve never felt anything like it. It’s as if my whole body has vanished.”

  “It’s one of Sarphos’s concoctions, actually. We worked on it together back before…” Arwin’s voice trailed off. Vi looked over to see the woman staring off at nothing. Vi didn’t question her; whatever memory had drawn her away was hers alone. The last thing she wanted to draw Arwin’s attention to was her moment of vulnerability. “It’s made from the shift,” Arwin continued hastily, as though the pause hadn’t happened at all. “Using water and other ingredients, he’ll use the shift to merge them together and make something new—shift it into something else.”

  “He’s a skilled healer, and an even better man,” Vi murmured, thinking of all he’d done for Taavin and her, despite them being his supposed enemies. That would be another challenge if Vi somehow managed to find a way to convince Arwin to come along with her. How would she get her to ignore Taavin’s identity? Perhaps it was better to go after Sarphos; he already knew who he was dealing with.

  “He is. And nothing at all like his brother,” Arwin continued.

  “His brother?” Vi remembered when she’d first inquired about Arwin and Sarphos’s relationship—he’d said something about Arwin being engaged to his brother. So the mention now had her more than a little intrigued.