Failed Future (Air Awakens: Vortex Chronicles Book 3) Page 4

  Her fingertip brushed the point of his ear, her hand lingering there almost of its own volition.

  He truly was different from her. She’d always known it. Yet when she had summoned him with narro hath, he’d existed in the framework of her world. Now, she was an occupant of his, and even the princess who belonged nowhere had never felt so out of place.

  She’d finally made it to him. Somehow, he felt farther away than ever. They were from different worlds, pulled together by fate. Two people who should have never met and seemed destined for nothing more than heartache.

  Vi lifted her hand off his person, though he was still heavy on hers. He was far heavier than Ellene had been when she’d fallen asleep on Vi’s shoulder during too-long stories around campfires.

  Ellene.

  Vi had begrudged her life in Shaldan. Those endless nights of storytelling, the expectations of royalty, her never-ending lessons, the seemingly insufferable captivity. How grateful she would be to have one more night to relax with Ellene and sip cider, safe and protected behind walls meant to keep the world out as much as Vi in. She had never fully appreciated how good she’d had it.

  And now it was gone.

  The young princess who had sat around those firesides was lost on a beach between the Dark Isle and Meru. She was no longer that innocent, spoiled girl. Vi took a slow inhale of breath. The anger that ebbed and flowed within her had no direction, and would serve nothing. She had work to do; she had to let it go… But she didn’t know how.

  “Vi…” Taavin murmured, face still pressed against her shoulder. He hadn’t even opened his long lashes yet. She shifted slightly, trying to get a better look at his face.

  The man was calling for her in his sleep. But her movement seemed to rouse him from the remnants of dreamland.

  “Did I disturb you?” she asked softly.

  “No.” Taavin winced as he rubbed his sides. “I think I disturbed myself.” She neglected to mention that she’d been the one to lightly trail her fingers along his face. “It’s late.”

  “Is it?”

  “Given how stiff I am, I think so.”

  “Good to know the stiffness isn’t just me.” Using the wall for support, Vi pushed herself upward. There wasn’t much room to stretch, but she made a good effort of it. “I’m going to wash my face and have a drink.”

  “While you’re out, will you get me a garnet skullcap?”

  “You’re not coming? Some fresh air would do you well.”

  “You may be right… But no.” Taavin adjusted himself slightly. Vi didn’t miss the wince. “I think I shall linger here for a bit more. I’m not quite sure if it’s the best idea for me to be moving yet… The skullcap should help relieve the aches and soothe me back to sleep.”

  “You slept a fair bit.” A frown crossed her lips. Could a person sleep too much? Vi suddenly wished she’d paid more attention to Ginger’s brief clerical lessons whenever Vi landed herself in trouble. Another thing she’d taken for granted.

  “The more I rest, the faster we can be on the road.” He gave her what Vi could easily recognize as a brave smile in the face of great pain.

  “Taavin, I’m worried—”

  “Don’t worry about me, Vi. I’m elfin; we’re a hearty bunch and heal much faster than humans, even without any kind of clerical assistance.” Heal much faster than her, he meant. Everything this morning served to remind her of their differences. “Garnet skullcap. Bright white flowers shaped like little bells. Deep crimson leaves—thin and slightly waxy.”

  Vi quickly repeated the description back to him. “Got it.”

  “Thank you, Vi.”

  She gave a nod. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Vi sucked in her stomach and squeezed through the narrow passage and out onto the rocky bed of the stream. Raising a hand to her eyes, Vi shielded them from the bright white light of morning, giving them a chance to adjust.

  Motion startled her near instantly. Vi ducked quickly, raising her hand, her spark crackling around her fingers. She jerked her head toward a nearby tree where the projectile had landed.

  No, wait, not a projectile… Sitting in the tree was a bird as big as her forearm with a long neck and oil-slick plumage. It almost looked wet with how the light shimmered off its long feathers. Every subtle breeze sent rainbows across its back and breast. From hooked beak to bright blue talons, Vi had never seen anything like it.

  The strange looking bird regarded her for a long moment before taking off with an undignified chirp. Vi watched it take flight, the mere sight of a bird sending small shivers down her spine. She wondered if she would ever be able to see a winged creature again without thinking of Fallor.

  Vi set off, trying to leave thoughts of the pirate behind her.

  In the daylight, the trees were an eerie gray color. Not quite the shade of bleached bone, but brighter than the ashes of a fire pit, and a hue Vi had never seen among the giant sentries of the North. These trees were tall—dizzyingly so. But they were thin from root to canopy. So thin that Vi wondered how they didn’t topple over with the slightest of breezes that swayed their canopies.

  The forest floor was covered with leaves and little else. There were no smaller shrubs, no fan-like fronds stretching out to block her path. She could see straight through all the trees like bars in a cage until the horizon blurred and it was hard to tell just where anything stopped and started.

  That was the real reason she didn’t stray far from the stream.

  Every tree of the forest looked identical. Sameness and more sameness. It was a forest she felt she could get lost in forever if she wasn’t careful.

  “Red leaves,” she murmured to herself.

  She’d been walking for the better part of an hour in search of the skullcap. Vi was about ready to give up when she finally found it. Taavin hadn’t specified what part of the plant he needed—and Vi knew all too well that not all parts of a plant were equal, at least not when it came to extracting medicinal properties. So she dug it out, roots and to delicate buds.

  “I think I have it,” Vi announced as she squeezed back into their hiding place.

  The skullcap slipped from her fingers, forgotten.

  “Taavin!” She knelt at his side. The man’s chin was slumped to his chest. His arms hung heavy, palms up. The last person she’d seen in such a state had been dying from the White Death. “Taavin wh—”

  “I was merely resting.” He lifted his head with a start, giving her a thin smile. “No need to fret.”

  Vi searched his face. Lying. He was lying through his teeth. There was plenty of reason for her to fret.

  “You’re not okay, are you?” she whispered.

  “I will be.” Taavin looked toward his feet, seeing the skullcap she’d dropped. “I see you found some.”

  “I did.”

  “Good. I’ll just need the buds… two for now. Be careful to pinch them off so that you don’t get any stem. Here, like this.” His hands reached out, covering her fingers lightly. Vi split her attention between what he was showing her and his haggard expression. Even now, even after all that had transpired, a certain grace clung to him and wouldn’t let go.

  “Here, let me do the next.” She focused on the task at hand and tried to replicate his motions.

  “Perfect.” Taavin took the bud from her fingers, chewing it thoughtfully before swallowing. With that, he leaned back, settling himself once more.

  Vi shifted to face him. His feet were at her side, hers at his. Her eyes landed on his hands—folded over his lower stomach and slowly running over a golden bracelet Vi had never seen before. Had they been outstretched, she might have gathered them in her own.

  This was the first quiet—and fully conscious—moment they’d had since meeting in person, she realized.

  Suddenly, despite all that had transpired, she felt marginally awkward. Her hands couldn’t seem to find a good place to rest. How had she been so comfortable around him before? How had she touched him like it was nothing? Vi e
nded up mirroring his pose.

  “How long will it take for you to get better?” she asked.

  “With enough rest and any luck, a few days at worst.”

  “A few days…” she repeated, her mind already turning over the implications of the thought. “I’ll need to forage some sustenance for us.” He’d said the Twilight Kingdom and Forest were the lands of the morphi, and the last thing Vi wanted to do was slay an animal that was secretly a person. Her thoughts wandered back to the dark bird—it was a good thing she hadn’t killed it.

  “Do you know what plants are safe to eat?”

  “I was going to look for ones I recognized. I realize I’m far from home, but there’s likely a few common varieties—Meru and the Dark Isle aren’t that far apart. Certain mushrooms grow across the whole Dark Isle… I assume they’ll be here too. Maybe some fruits or nuts that you can help identify?”

  “Brilliant thoughts. Forgive me for forgetting how capable you are.” A small, sad smile crossed his mouth. “I sometimes think of our captivity as the same. In reality, you were able to explore far more than me.”

  The aching and longing in his voice kept Vi from arguing. She hadn’t ever really been able to explore. Not in the true, untethered sense of the word. But she had been awarded some freedoms. She’d had teachers who wanted her to know how to survive in the wilds if, or when, she needed to. She suspected none of them ever thought she’d have to put theory into practice—but here she found herself, somewhat prepared to face this newest challenge.

  Even if she hadn’t realized it at the time, she’d had luxuries Taavin had only dreamed of.

  “When you’re better…” Vi straightened away from the wall, resting a hand on his thigh. “I’ll show you every edible plant I can find, and how to harvest them. I’ll even show you the ones that I had to taste-test to find out if they’re edible or poisonous.”

  “Don’t you go taste-testing possibly poisonous things.” His hand covered hers. “I don’t want anything happening to you.”

  “Nothing will.”

  Taavin gave a dark chuckle. “You say that, when clearly so much has.” Vi searched his expression as he effortlessly held her gaze. “You’re not the same woman I first met.”

  “No one stays the same,” Vi murmured.

  “True… Then, you’re not the same woman I stood next to on that balcony.” Taavin’s fingers worked to lace with hers. Vi’s hand remained limp, giving him no encouragement. Yet she couldn’t find it in her to pull away either. He was the only comfort she had in this strange world.

  “Maybe you never really had a good measure on me to begin with,” Vi contested as discomfort worked its way underneath her skin like maggots.

  “Truly?” He arched his eyebrows. “You think I don’t know you by now? You think I haven’t spent my life learning your mannerisms? Memorizing your face?”

  “You memorized a woman in a dream. I am not that woman. It was likely my grandmother, remember?”

  “Maybe.” He shifted slightly, sitting straighter. “Or maybe you’re challenging me because you know I’m right.”

  Vi shifted, caught between wanting to pour out her soul to him, and bolt from the cave to avoid his scrutiny. She’d spent so much time trying to get to him that Vi hadn’t really thought about what it would be like when they were together… all the time. When she couldn’t dismiss him with a thought or wave of her hand. When his eyes continued to bore into her soul long after she wanted the relief of hiding from things she herself wasn’t yet ready to address.

  “Vi—”

  “I should get to foraging, while there’s still plenty of good light.” Vi pulled away quickly. Fleeing from her problems would be her choice.

  “Wait—” Taavin leaned forward, started to get up, then stopped mid-motion with a wince of pain. His back rested heavily once more on the wall behind him as he grabbed both of his sides. “Vi, I’m just trying—”

  Vi ignored him, pretending she couldn’t hear. Once more, she squeezed out into the sunlight, promptly starting upstream.

  He was just trying to help. She knew he was. She paused to look back to the rocky entrance of their cave, briefly debating whether or not to return immediately and make amends.

  Would it feel good, or terrible, to expose the angry darkness that swirled around in her now? What would he think when he learned of how she’d used juth calt?

  Vi turned, continuing on, her back to the cave mouth.

  At first, she wasn’t very active in her foraging. It was more of a walk to try to clear her head. But the more time that passed, the less clear-headed she felt. If anything, things got murkier.

  Mirroring her mindset, dusk fell.

  “Twilight in the Twilight Forest,” Vi muttered. Her feet slowed once more.

  The world had certainly taken on an unnatural quality. The ashen trees looked even more devoid of color. Their leaves had become pale—not a fiery red as one might expect with the fading sun. And they cast long shadows on the forest floor, turning it dark gray. It was as though the whole world had been expunged of color and steeped in drab.

  The trees in the distance seemed to waver briefly. Vi rubbed her eyes and squinted. Had she only imagined the ruler-straight trunks wobbling?

  She stepped away from the rocky stream, scrambling up a large boulder, and started into the trees.

  Her first thought was Fallor and his strange magic—the shift. Perhaps he had followed them into the forest despite being exiled? Vi balled her hand into a fist, curling the spark under her fingers.

  Taavin had said they couldn’t use Lightspinning without risking detection. Would her fire be all right? It would have to be, because she wasn’t about to fight Fallor bare-handed.

  The forest was uncomfortably silent. Nothing but gray sameness as far as the eye could see. She turned, glancing over her shoulder—

  The stream was gone.

  Her heart raced in earnest now. She couldn’t hear the stream over the deafening stillness of the woods. She couldn’t see it between the countless trees that seemed to close in on her. Vi spun in place. All she had to do was turn right around and go back the way she came.

  It wasn’t Fallor, anyway—it couldn’t be. Perhaps it was some other morphi. Though Taavin had cautioned her to stay away.

  As she spun in place, something caught her eye—another bit of wobbling, this time over the split trunk of a fell tree.

  “What is that?” she whispered, slowly drawing near. The leaves crunched under her shuffling footsteps, but Vi could barely hear it. There was a murmuring buzz at the edges of her hearing, the closer she got to the oddity.

  It was a tree trunk, split from the inside out. The smell of rot suddenly filled her nose, as though the tree had let out a dying breath. But the aroma was not deep and earthy as one would expect. It was rank and choking, like carrion. She would’ve long fled were it not for an unnerving fascination with the anomaly—as though she were looking at something she shouldn’t.

  Tiny sparks of red lightning jumped between each gaping crack in the bark, leaving black spots in their wake. Above it, the air seemed alive, shifting and writhing, distorting the trees beyond. There was a snap, a pop, and Vi could nearly make out lights where there had been none. It was as if the air were tearing open to expose the darkness that existed beyond the veil of her reality. A whole city of darkness, waiting.

  Vi squinted and leaned closer in an effort to make out more details before the air shifted again and the city was gone.

  She leaned too close.

  A tiny bolt of lightning extended upward, striking her fingertip. Though it couldn’t have been more than a pin-prick, it felt as though it darted under her skin, crackling across her muscles from finger to shoulder to brow, all the way down to her toes.

  She must’ve let out a scream, but Vi couldn’t be certain, because the murmuring in her ears magnified with the cracks of lightning that struggled to break through her flesh. Suddenly it was as if a thousand people were talking
over each other at once, all trying to get to her. They said countless names, rapid fire, over a thousand muttered conversations Vi couldn’t make out.

  She gripped the sides of her face, trying to cover her ears and mute the excruciating, deafening noise. Slowly layering atop them all was a terrible rhythm, a singular repeated word, louder by the moment.

  Die, die, die.

  There was another bolt of lightning, this time jackknifing right for her heart—too quick for her to move away.

  Light burst from the watch at her neck, cutting the impending darkness of the forest, keeping the lightning and auditory assault at bay. Vi stumbled backward, fell, scrambled back to her feet. She panted, breathless. But the only sounds in her ears now were that of her frantically beating heart, and every labored breath as she turned and broke into an all-out run.

  Chapter Five

  “Taavin… Taavin!” Vi pushed herself through the entrance of the cave, not caring for every rough bit of rock that dug into her curves. It barely registered as pain—barely registered at all. “Taavin,” she repeated again as she gasped for air. As though his name was the only thing she could manage.

  “Vi, what is it?” Through the pain, he forced himself more upright. Distress, but not for his own state, written across his features. “Are you all right? What’s happened?”

  Vi shook her head. The one voice, that terrible, earth-shattering voice demanding her death still lived in her ears. If she opened her mouth, it may come from her lips. That was how deep it now ran in her.

  “It’s clearly something.” Taavin’s voice had gone stern. “Don’t shut me out.”

  She shook her head again, trying to focus on breathing. Trying to dig her nails into the rough wall behind her to keep her focus grounded in the here and now. She needed something stable. But the whole world felt like it could crumble at once.

  “Vi—” A small yelp of pain broke through, yanking her back to the present. Taavin was rolled on his side on the ground, his elbow supporting him. Yet even now, he struggled to get back up.