Failed Future (Air Awakens: Vortex Chronicles Book 3) Read online

“Very well then. Until I return with stronger, more tailored potions, continue drinking that, and chew on those. And whenever you feel strong enough… do try to take a bath.” Sarphos pointed to the various healing accoutrements he’d left before he pushed himself through the crack.

  Vi looked down at Taavin once more, already regretting her decision not to kiss him.

  “Taavin… I…” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

  “Yes?” Had his breathing hastened? Or was it her imagination?

  “I hope you feel stronger soon. I’ll be back as soon as I’m able.” Vi side-stepped through the craggy opening, reminding herself of the one thing Taavin had made clear: terrible things happened to the people he loved. Thus, he didn’t want to love anyone, or have anyone love him.

  Under no circumstances could she let him know he’d well and truly stolen her heart.

  “Ready?” Sarphos startled her from her thoughts as she emerged from the small cave.

  “Yes, this way.” Vi started on ahead, walking along the bank of the stream. Just once she considered ignoring her promise to Sarphos about showing him the tear. But Vi knew she had to keep her word. New plans were already forming in her head. “Thank you, Sarphos, for healing him.”

  “You didn’t leave me with much of a choice.”

  “That makes me no less grateful.”

  “I suppose, in a way, I should be thanking you.” Sarphos ran a hand through his ruddy hair.

  “Why?”

  “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes… I would’ve never thought the monster capable of compassion, let alone affection.”

  They reached the singed tree that marked the point Vi had diverted from the stream. Sarphos at her side, Vi followed her earlier markers into the dark woods.

  “Why do you call him a monster?” She didn’t want to make small talk. But when it came to Taavin, she wanted to understand the source of Sarphos’s vitriol.

  “If you are from the Dark Isle, as you claim—”

  “Which I am.”

  “—then there’s no way you could understand. This is not your fight.”

  Vi sighed, pausing a moment to locate the next singe mark before moving on. “Maybe not… But Taavin is very important to me, and I’d like to understand the conflict as it relates to him.”

  “You may not be able to hear the truth, as you have already been taken in by Faithful lies. But if you can, trust me when I say that there’s good reason why many in this world would kill me for not letting him die and rot in that cave. Even then, that would be a death far better than he deserves.”

  Vi wanted to tell him that Taavin had been honest with her about the mutual hatred between the Faithful and the morphi—that she knew it was rooted in fundamental ideological differences in each culture’s magic. But the tear had come into view, and the conversation ended.

  “What in the…” Sarphos murmured, slowly approaching the felled tree Vi had crossed through earlier.

  “Don’t get too close.” She grabbed his forearm, holding him back. “It’s not safe.”

  “It doesn’t look safe.” His nose scrunched. “And smells of death. You went through that?”

  “Yes. If you watch closely, you can see the Twilight Kingdom, now and then, in the shifting air.”

  Sarphos stared intently at the air between the trees, but Vi’s focus was on the leaning tree itself. It was almost entirely blackened, large splits exposing liquefied innards that glowed with red lightning. The tree looked as though it had been rotting for weeks since she had last been here—not mere hours. She bet that had they arrived a day later, it would’ve collapsed entirely.

  “So it’s true,” he whispered. Sarphos must’ve seen the kingdom while Vi was distracted by the progression of the rot. “You can catch glimpses.”

  “Believe me now?”

  “I still don’t believe you could’ve made it through that and survived.”

  “It wasn’t an…ideal experience.” Vi’s hand went to her watch. Without it and whatever power it held, she likely would’ve died.

  “Well, then, I think our business has concluded.” Sarphos adjusted the satchel on his shoulder.

  “You won’t tell anyone about Taavin?” Vi dared ask. It was too much trust to put in a single man, especially when Sarphos had every reason to betray them. She needed to move Taavin as quickly as possible. But Taavin couldn’t be moved yet… Her mind began to whirl around possible solutions.

  “So long as he doesn’t harm my people.”

  “Give me your word.”

  “You have it,” Sarphos said with all the sincerity in the world.

  Vi wanted to believe him.

  She wanted to take him at his word. She wanted to go back to the days when promises meant something. But they didn’t any longer. A vow wasn’t good enough, not when he had so much to gain by outing them. If she were in his shoes, Vi couldn’t be certain she’d honor it.

  That meant she had to ensure his silence another way; she had to keep him in her sights.

  “Sarphos, wait,” she called after him, just as he had taken a few steps.

  “What now?”

  “You’re going to report this tear to your king, aren’t you?”

  “I am,” he responded cautiously.

  “Take me with you?” Vi did her best to phrase it as a question and not a desperate plea or command. The only way she could get him to agree was to endear herself to him, truly convince him it was in his best interest, or both.

  “Why do you think I would take someone in league with the Voice to King Noct himself?”

  “Because I have more knowledge than you on these tears—their cause and how we may be able to stop them.” Vi held out her hands. “Because I am unarmed and no threat in the Twilight Kingdom.”

  “You had that strange fire magic before.”

  “Firebearing. It’s called Firebearing.” For a brief second, Sarphos looked almost intrigued by the notion. “It’s a discipline of magic on the Dark Isle and is in no way like the Faithful’s Lightspinning.”

  “It didn’t feel like Lightspinning…” He stroked his chin. “You really are from there?”

  “I really am.”

  “But there is nothing on the Dark Isle. It is a barren wasteland.”

  Vi chuckled. “I thought much the same of Meru.” She braved a smile, hoping it came off as casual. Hoping he believed they were finding an easy rapport and she wasn’t just looking for a way to keep him in her sights. “Take me to your king, let me tell him of my lands myself.”

  Sarphos twisted the strap of his bag. Vi wondered if his thoughts mirrored her own—twisting and turning over the various options before him. As she waited, Vi tried to keep her expression light, even though she was already working two mental steps ahead.

  Taavin had mentioned a shift like the one around the Twilight Kingdom protecting the Isle of Frost… If she continued building this relationship, perhaps she could ultimately convince Sarphos—or King Noct—to help rescue her father.

  “Oh, all right, come on then.” Sarphos grabbed her hand. “But don’t blame me if Arwin kills you on the spot.”

  Vi didn’t have a chance to inquire further as pulsing magic enveloped them both. She barely had time to hold her breath before the darkness of the between pressed around her.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Took you long enough,” the woman at the archway at the entrance to the Twilight Kindgom droned. “Arwin has already come looking for you.”

  Vi knew she didn’t imagine Sarphos suddenly going pale.

  “What did you tell her?” he squeaked out.

  “That you were out with your lady friend.”

  “Why did you say that?” Sarphos groaned, starting down the street.

  “Why are you keeping it a secret?” Ruie called after them. “Is it because she dresses poorly?”

  “I’d like to see how lovely she looks after sailing across continents,” Vi mumbled, picking at the fabric of her shirt. They wer
e the same clothes Erion had given her, back when she was pretending to be Yullia.

  Should she use another name now? Vi looked up to the castle ahead of them, towering over all the people crowding the street. No… she’d already told Sarphos that she was the crown princess. And meeting another royal while being honest about who she was may just serve her well.

  “When we get to the castle, let me do the talking at first.” Sarphos interrupted her thoughts. “Arwin is going to be in rare form, I’m sure. She doesn’t take kindly to delays and will be even more irritated when she finds out I’ve brought a human before the king.”

  “Who is this Arwin to you? An old flame?”

  Sarphos tilted his head back, letting out a bark of laughter. It was rich and warm-sounding, comfortable. Good, she wanted him to be comfortable around her. The more she could endear herself to him, the better.

  “No, no. Arwin is… Well, she was to be my sister by marriage, once. But that was a lifetime ago.” Sarphos kept his eyes forward, focused on the castle, oblivious to Vi studying him.

  “So there’s history there.” Vi didn’t press the matter. He clearly didn’t want to go into the details.

  “To say the least. We’ll likely have to get through her to see the King.”

  “How so?”

  “She’s one of his core guards and by far the toughest of them all. What she says, goes. But if I can get to King Noct before she gets to us, all the better.”

  Vi adjusted the bandanna around her forehead. Tough, headstrong, demanding—none of them were personality traits she exactly wanted to work with.

  They entered the castle through another free-standing archway. The castle had no outer wall or gates. In fact, there was little to stop the populous from strolling in. In a city protected by a force like the shift, Vi could understand why they didn’t feel the need for fortifications.

  She wondered if Adela felt much the same. Vi could only dream of catching the pirate flat-footed.

  “You finally came.” Positioned at the door was another young woman. She had a shade of blonde hair similar to Ruie’s, though slightly more ashen. Even so, the family resemblance was unmistakable. “Arwin is waiting for you.”

  “Tell her I need to speak with the king.” Sarphos continued leading them into a large foyer, the girl falling into step alongside them.

  “And who are you?” she asked.

  “A traveler of sorts.” Vi looked up at the ceiling, where a chandelier of glowing stones illuminated the open space with a harsh, bright light.

  “Who is she?” the girl asked Sarphos, apparently dissatisfied with Vi’s answer.

  “She’s a traveler.”

  “From where?”

  “Enough questions, Emmie.” Sarphos rolled his eyes as they stepped into a hallway in the back of the room. A curtain of small, white flowering vines was strung along the ceiling. These, too, gave off their own magical illumination. Enough to see by, but comfortably dimmer than the entry.

  “Why do you only tell Arwin things?” Emmie puffed out her cheeks in frustration.

  “I do not only tell Arwin things,” Sarphos muttered.

  That would be something to keep an eye on—how close Sarphos and Arwin really were. Vi didn’t know much about the woman yet. But what she’d gleaned so far assured her that Arwin gaining knowledge of Taavin would be trouble.

  “Go find Arwin and tell her I’m with the king.” Sarphos shooed Emmie away. The girl gave a huff, but ran off anyway.

  Vi paused, looking down the hall where Emmie had disappeared. She saw a different young girl running down in her place, a girl with corkscrew curls and that same streak of childishness. Vi would bet anything Emmie and Ellene were near the same age.

  “This way—” Sarphos tapped her shoulder and turned to lead, but stopped abruptly. “I just realized, I don’t even know your name.”

  Vi smiled slyly, proud that she managed to go this long without telling him. “It’s Vi.”

  “Vi… right, this way, please.”

  They went through two more hallways and three antechambers before entering a rectangular room.

  On the far side, an open wall faced a grassy glade where children ran and played; on Vi’s right stood a throne crafted from an array of materials, including some Vi would never attempt to piece together; wood and stone were fitted against glass and metal. It was where she would expect to see their King seated.

  But the throne was empty.

  At Vi’s left was a low table and sitting area surrounding it. A plump man sat with his back to the door, watching three children playing with a pair of wolves and a peacock in the field beyond. This sagely and content-looking man was not what she’d expected of the Twilight Kingdom’s king.

  But looks could be deceiving. Vi was a living example of that—with her tattered clothing and grime-coated fingernails, no one would believe her a crown princess. Which meant she’d have to work all the harder to convince these people she was. Vi folded her hands in front of her, rolled her shoulders back, and adjusted her posture.

  “My king, forgive my intrusion.” Sarphos rounded the sitting area, dropping to a kneel.

  “You know you are always welcome in my home, Sarphos.” The king spoke with a whispering, weathered voice. “Stand, please.”

  Sarphos did as he was bid as Vi came to awkwardly stand next to him. “Unfortunately, I have brought ill tidings.”

  King Noct had golden hair like Ruie and Emmie, that faded into a white beard. But rather than analyzing the familial resemblance between him and the girls, Vi’s mind wandered back to her own family. She wondered if she was looking at a much older version of her brother in the man.

  “Ill tidings,” King Noct repeated. “I do hope this lovely young woman isn’t the cause of such things.”

  “Your highness.” It was Vi’s turn to kneel. Sarphos may be welcome in this court, but she was an outsider. “I’ve—”

  “Sarphos!” A shout interrupted her. “You got some pair of stones, keeping me waiting.” A woman stormed in from a side entrance.

  She had bright golden hair, braided back tightly and wound into a large bun at the top of her head. Tiny curls attempted to escape around her face. She was pale, but not unnaturally so like the elfin’ra. Her eyes were muted gray, and landed on Vi with cold, steely calculation. Vi had little doubt that the person currently sizing her up was the infamous Arwin.

  “Is this the woman you’ve been hiding from us?”

  “I’m not hiding anything!” Sarphos insisted.

  “We were just about to find out who this lovely young lady is, and why Sarphos kept you waiting… before you interrupted,” the king said slowly, as if fighting back a yawn the entire time.

  “If there’s a stranger in our midst, shouldn’t you be on your throne, father?”

  Father?

  “I think not being on my throne is far less damaging to my appearance than you questioning me before said stranger,” the king answered—though he didn’t sound the least bit offended. Vi felt like she was more present to a family gathering than a royal court.

  Arwin pursed her lips and gestured for Vi to continue. Vi took a deep breath.

  “I’ve come from an Empire across the sea.”

  The king stilled. Then, he commanded slowly, “Tell me your name, child.”

  “I am Vi Solaris, crown princess of the Solaris Empire.”

  “Solaris?” Arwin looked to Sarphos, who seemed to shrink under the woman’s stare. “There is no such Empire.”

  Vi fought a smile and failed. She remembered being in Arwin’s shoes. The moment the veil was lifted from her eyes was fresh in Vi’s memory. She had assumed the rest of the world knew about Solaris—that her people alone had been left in the dark. She had assumed wrong.

  “There is, across what you call the Shattered Isles. On the Dark Isle.”

  “A forgotten and desolate rock?”

  “Let her speak, Arwin.” King Noct’s voice had deepened, his tone becoming far
more serious.

  “I was born in Solarin, capital of the Solaris Empire, to Emperor Aldrik Solaris and Empress Vhalla Solaris. There, Meru’s existence is not common knowledge. Shortly after my birth I was sent to our northernmost territory, Shaldan. I thought my wardship was a purely political arrangement, but it was more than that.

  “There was a prophecy about my birth,” Vi proceeded delicately. Given the morphi’s relationship with the Faithful, Vi didn’t know what their reaction would be to Yargen. Tell the truth, just not the whole truth. Half-lies were child’s play compared to the web of fictions she’d had to craft along this journey. “It involves those known as the elfin’ra and Lord Raspian’s return to this realm.”

  “Lord Raspian, elfin’ra? You speak like a Faithful,” Arwin said, her voice dropping to a low growl.

  “I am not a Faithful,” Vi insisted.

  “But you are a liar.” Arwin stomped over to her. Without so much as a word of warning, she yanked the bandanna from Vi’s brow. “Human,” Arwin seethed, turning to Sarphos. “You brought a human among us? She could be Faithful.”

  Sarphos shrank backward. If Arwin pressed, he’d break. And if he broke, there was no guarantee of Taavin’s safety.

  “I said I’m not Faithful,” Vi insisted. “The Faithful don’t even exist in Solaris.”

  “Silence, Arwin.” The King sighed tiredly. “Tell me more of the details of this prophecy?”

  “My lord, I don’t entirely know them all myself…” Vi looked down at her feet for a moment, hoping the body language of respect and deference was the same here as it was at home. “It has been passed to me in pieces, from my mother and from the woman who raised me. All I know for certain is that I have been chosen by Yargen to play a role in preventing the end of our world. I am Yargen’s Champion. But what that means exactly… I’m unsure.”

  “And that is why you have ventured so far?”

  “Yes, that… and to find my father.”

  “Prophecies, the Faithful’s goddess, a human in the Twilight Kingdom…” Arwin paced between Sarphos and her father, staring down Vi at every turn. “She spews lies to you, father.”

  “Have you not seen it, Arwin?” Noct straightened in his seat. In that motion he went from a lounging old man to a king. “The bloody ring that circles our moon? It foretells the end of days.”