Water's Wrath (Air Awakens Series Book 4) (41 page)

The limp arm that had been wrapped around her waist most of the night tightened the moment Vhalla tried to wiggle free. Vhalla turned, carefully positioning her right shoulder against Aldrik’s chest. A pair of dark eyes studied her, and Vhalla allowed herself a small smile.

“Go back to sleep,” she whispered. “You need your rest.”

“So do you.”

“I am no longer sleepy.” Vhalla rolled her eyes.

“Did you have a bad dream?”

“No.” Vhalla averted her eyes so he wouldn’t see the pain he’d parked in them. She knew he had not meant to, but just the mention of dreams made her think of what was lost between them. Never again would she see his memories in sleep.

“Is it keeping you up?” His fingers rested lightly on her shoulder.

“The pain is manageable,” Vhalla sighed. “Elecia said it will scar.”

“And?” he murmured nonchalantly. Aldrik leaned forward, pressing his lips into the fabric over the mark where Victor had stolen her magic and nearly her life. “You’re not one to worry about feminine notions of your complexion.”

“I’m not,” she agreed. “Are you?”

Aldrik laughed lightly. It was a throaty whisper. “You could turn green with yellow spots and I’d find myself uncaring. If I’d wanted a dainty court queen, I would have picked from my father’s lineup.”

“The Fire Lord with a dainty court queen?” Vhalla grinned playfully. “Now there’s an image.”

“Ah yes, quite the hilarious failure.” Aldrik brought his lips to hers lightly.

“Will you two get a room?” Jax groaned from Aldrik’s opposite side. Aldrik was pushed closer to Vhalla as a swift kick was placed on his lower back. “Tired of listening to lovers’ sweet nothings.”

“Jax!” Aldrik snapped, rolling over. “I did not realize you wanted accommodations in the dungeons upon our return.”

“After all I’ve done for you?” Jax snorted.

Vhalla took the opportunity to stand, stretching out her stiff limbs. Being brought back from the dead took a toll on one’s body.

“It seems your lady does escape, my prince.”

“Boys, I swear, do not make me get up from this pallet,” Elecia threatened without so much as a hint of movement.

Vhalla grinned and held up an index finger to her lips, motioning for the men to be silent. Jax gave Aldrik a satisfied smirk before rolling over. Fritz snored on as though nothing had happened. The two Northerners in the corner ignored their companions. Aldrik just shook his head, running a hand through his limp hair. Her eyes caught his, and they had one more moment before Vhalla crept out to the main room.

She was not the first to wake. Cass had already stoked a fire. The tall woman now stood at the end of the large table that dominated the space closest to the crackling hearth. Her cerulean eyes turned up at Vhalla’s sock-muffled footsteps.

“Good morning,” she said softly, clearly still mindful that most of the people in the home were still in the depths of slumber.

“Good morning, Cass.” Vhalla smiled, meeting the other woman’s kind and toothy look.

“Did you sleep alright?” she asked as Vhalla joined her at her side.

“I did,” Vhalla affirmed. She assumed the space next to the woman as one of Cass’s sister’s would, beginning to slice some of the root vegetables. Vhalla winced as she tested out what sort of pressure her shoulder could withstand.

Cass noticed, but kept silent about Vhalla’s pain.

“I hope we’re not putting your family out too much.” Vhalla noted the quantity of food they were being forced to prepare.

“Don’t worry.” Cass shook her head. “It’s nice to have Fritz home. It’s not every day that we have a prince with us either.”

Smiling to herself, Vhalla slipped the knife through another potato. She remembered being awe-struck and dazed at the notion of being near royalty. There was a time when just proximity to Aldrik could fluster her. Now she spoke with him without thought. She had no qualms when it came to scolding him or encouraging him to do something he may otherwise not consider.

Then there was Baldair. He had flustered her also. It had been his flirtations, then his misguided protection, and somehow at the end he was as good as a brother. The idea that he was gone still rested cold in her core. Vhalla sighed softly, her knife paused.

“You’ve been through a lot.” It was not a question. Vhalla looked up at the Charem girl. “We all know the story. We heard it not long after the Night of Fire and Wind. You were the low born library girl turned sorceress who rode with princes.”

“Was I?” Vhalla asked softly. She supposed some of it was still true.

“You tell me,” Cass laughed. “In any case, it is an honor to meet you. Gwen had a mouse she found in the spring that she named after you.”

“What?”

“I think she lost it.” The elder girl coughed and glanced away. “But for girls like us, you are the impossible dream.”

“It still feels impossible,” Vhalla mused softly. “In some ways, it was a dream.”

“Reona and I were planning on heading into town today.” Cass passed her another potato. “Would you like to join us?”

“That sounds nice.” Vhalla nodded. She needed to see how she fared on a horse, and a small practice ride sounded like a smart idea before pushing to the capital.

“I’m going to get her up soon. We should leave early to make it back before nightfall. Reona can linger,” Cass explained. “I wanted to get breakfast started before we went off.”

“You’re a good big sister, aren’t you?” Vhalla grinned, dumping some of her chopping into the large pot that was used.

“I try.” She chuckled. “Fritz left when he was young, so I knew I had to look out for the girls. Speaking of, I’ll go rouse Reona.”

Vhalla finished while Cass disappeared up the ladder and into the loft beyond. She hummed softly to herself, trying to remember the mix of spices that she’d seen Nia put in the morning before. A flap of canvas distracted her, and she was surprised to see Elecia emerge.

“You’re up?” Vhalla arched her eyebrows in surprise.

“Thanks to the boys,” Elecia grumbled.

“Sorry.”

“I blame you completely.” The dark-skinned woman crossed the room, placing her hands on the opposite side of the table. Her voice dropped, and she cut to something that had clearly been on her mind since their first night at the Charem’s. “Did Aldrik share your bed at the palace?”

“No.” Vhalla looked back to the spices. “He was engaged to someone other than me.”

“That seems to have changed yesterday.”

“Before yesterday.” Vhalla touched the watch around her neck.

“Since the North? Truly?” Elecia put it together quickly. Vhalla nodded. “My, you two really don’t give a damn about his father, do you?” There was an appreciative note to her words.

“Not really.” Vhalla shrugged, instantly regretting the motion.

“How is it?” Elecia caught the look of pain.

“Not bad, considering,” Vhalla answered honestly. “Thank you truly, Elecia. I would’ve died without you.”

“Yes, you would’ve.” Elecia shook her head dramatically. “You’re unlikely to stay in one piece without me being near.”

“Seems so.” Vhalla glanced up at the loft when she heard the creaking of wood. “I’m going into town with the girls, test out riding.”

“Good idea.” Elecia nodded, watching Reona and Cass descend the ladder. “Aldrik will regret it if he’s not there to perform the Rite of Sunset for Baldair.”

The thought hadn’t occurred to Vhalla, but she instantly knew it was true. Aldrik would never let a crone perform the rite. It would be his flames to send Baldair into the realms of the Father.

“I hear you’re coming with us?” Reona yawned.

“If you’ll have me.” She needed to ensure she could ride as fast as possible. If not, she’d encourage Aldrik to return home ahead of her.

“Reona, check the larder on the way to the barn,” Cass asked her sister.

“When we return to the capital, I will see that the Ci’Dan family shows their appreciation to the fullest extent for what you have done for us.” Elecia met the eyes of the eldest Charem child. “Were it not for you, the life of our prince would have surely been forfeit. If we were stuck out in this winter, it would have been the end of all of us.”

“Truly, it has been our honor,” Cass said, ever mindful of her place in the world.

“Dresses! And axes! We want dresses and sharp axes!” Reona chimed in eagerly from the doorway. Cass shot her a glare. “I mean, yeah, our honor,” she coughed.

Vhalla followed Cass out to the barn, bundled in a spare riding cloak of Reona’s. She didn’t have the energy to dread returning to the capital as she likely should, she only felt exhausted. The world had spun so fast it’d fallen off its axis, and Vhalla felt like she would be chasing it forever to try to get back on, just to live.

A surprise waited for Vhalla when they reached the open-style barn that housed the family’s horses and small pens of livestock. Each stall was packed fuller than it should have been to keep all the animals out of the heavy snow, but Vhalla could easily pick out a steed slightly larger than the others.

Lightning, the mount that had carried her across the continent, whinnied as she pet his nose with her palm. He had always been a smart horse, and while it may have been her wishful thinking, the steed seemed to remember her. The horse had been well taken care of. He was strong, and his trot was familiar the second Vhalla was once more upon his back.

For a time, she had wondered what had become of her Lightning after leaving the North. Now she had no doubt who had taken care of him.
Especially after Baston’s death
. Vhalla glanced over her shoulder back to the slowly shrinking home, left behind as she followed Cass and Reona toward town. She wondered if Aldrik had managed to go back to sleep.

Her eyes fell on the barn once more, and Vhalla picked out the mount she’d ridden alongside Victor.
Victor
, the name made her blood bubble so hotly that Vhalla could ignore the pain in her shoulder due to the jostling of the horse. He’d been planning to use her from the start. He’d seen her saved from the Senate, and then he’d turned the Senate’s sentence into an opportunity to get the axe. He’d trained her himself upon her return. He’d prepared her as carefully as a prize hog for slaughter.

He was the greatest puppet master the world had ever known. He’d manipulated princes and Emperors for his own vision. It’d be admirable, if that vision wasn’t a twisted and corrupt thing.

The woods were washed in white, and Vhalla tried to turn her thoughts away from lusting after the former Minister of Sorcery’s death. There were no others nearby, and the snow was pure and unblemished. The girls chattered on about this or that which they could also pick up in town. At a quarter day’s ride away, Vhalla had no doubt that going into town was indeed an affair. It had been the same for her as a child, and she remembered with fondness every time her mother would take her into Leoul proper.

Whistling through the trees, the wind whipped her cloak around her. Vhalla drew her hood. Holding out a hand, the air slipped through her open palm. It felt different. She was once more normal, no more special than the girls she rode with. Vhalla looked up to the sky, broken and blotched by trees; there was one man who now felt what truly blew in the wind and she hated him all the more for it. Her red-chilled hands gripped the reins once more.

They reached the outskirts of town in good time, and Vhalla pulled her attentions back to the present. The town closest to the Charems’ home, Rivend, reminded Vhalla very much of Leoul. It was a town indeed, but barely so. Houses gathered closer together than normal. There was an inn, a grocer, some general stores, cobbler, seamstress, and other life essentials. But that was where the similarities ended.

The buildings were basic log construction with shingled roofs. It was different from the river stone and thatch-work that was made in the East. People used what was available to them in places like this. Most did not have glass on the windows. Some had been wealthy enough at various points to afford paint—that was now chipping away—on their storefronts.

No one seemed to pay the girls any mind as they rode to the grocer and dismounted. Vhalla realized with her hood drawn she was likely assumed to be Nia and was content to blend in with the girls as they went about their business.

“Welcome, welcome!” the grocer hummed from behind his counter as a bell alerted him to their entry. “Ah, Cass!”

“Hello, Daren,” Cass said with a smile.

“What’ll it be today?” The elderly man rested his elbows on the high counter.

“The normal, please.”

“You usually don’t return to me so quickly.” He began to grab bags of grain, salted pork, and preserved food from around the store. Cass helped, knowing where things were from prior experience. “Is little Gwen finally eating into her growth spurt?”

“Maybe!” Cass laughed.

“Actually we have—” Reona began.

“We have Fritz home also,” Cass finished for her sister with a glare.

Vhalla realized they were keeping their presence silent. She wondered if they had been coached by Elecia or Aldrik, or if it was simply Cass’s keen insight.

“Do you? How is our mad sorcerer doing?” The grocer began to tally up the pile on the counter.

“You know Fritz.” Cass smiled as she began to count coins from a bag strapped to her hip.

“The lad has never grown up.” The man chuckled as they began to collect the groceries. Cass passed a bag of flour to Vhalla, and she noticed the man staring at her strangely.

“Nia?” He squinted.

“Please excuse us, Daren!” Cass herded them out.

“What are you doing?” Reona hissed as they were loading the horse’s saddlebags.

“I don’t know.” Cass paused, glancing at Vhalla. “But I didn’t see how we could explain having the prince or the Windwalker at our house.”

Being called the Windwalker stung
.

“What’s the point of having a prince if we’re not gonna tell anyone about it?” Reona whined.

“Hush.” Cass rolled her eyes.

“Thank you,” Vhalla said earnestly. She realized the foreign horse would likely give away that something was different in such a small town. But perhaps it could be explained away as Fritz’s mount from the palace.