Vi glanced once more to the horizon. She should have time still. If she hurried, she should have time.
“Vi, rebirth isn’t—”
“How clear of a look did you get?” Vi turned to him, scooping up his hands. They were warm under her palms, as though he eternally lounged in sunlight. “Are youcertainit was me? Beyond all doubt?”
“I can’t say beyond all doubt about anything.” He sighed heavily. “My dreams don’t come with instructions.”
“Good, because I think I know who it was—who it might have been all along.” Vi started off over the hard-packed earth that lined the fighting pits.
The fortress of Soricium, built directly into the towering trees that were hundreds of stories high, had many entrances from the fighting pits. There was the walkway that arched over the center of the fortress, up to a balcony that connected to the tree that housed the nobility. There was a gaping entrance in a trunk that ultimately led up to where Chieftain Sehra’s warriors resided—not far from the new wall that now surrounded the whole fortress.
But Vi headed for a staircase off to the side that wrapped around a smaller tree.
“Not that I can’t keep up.” Taavin matched pace at her side. Vi wondered if he had to exert energy to traverse her world with her or if it happened by sheer will of magic. “But I don’t know if you really want to bring me into the fortress.” He pointed to the glyph around her arm. “Just in case someone sees…”
“Right.” Vi held up her left hand, looking at the magic she’d anchored there hours ago, about which she’d all but forgotten. What would it be like if his presence wasn’t solely determined by a set of words? His fingers closed around hers, as if he could sense the thought, and her eyes jerked to his.
“Before you do, tell me what you’ve managed to piece together?”
“Curiosity shops are a distinctly Western trade. My family has roots in the West.” She could see as he began to connect the dots she’d already joined to form a clear picture in her mind. “Months ago, during the winter solstice, there was a Western woman who mentioned curiosity shops—that her caravan was said to be in possession of one bestowed on them by my grandmother.”
“Your grandmother?”
“Princess Fiera, the last princess of the West.” Her insides wriggled in excitement. Vi’s fingers closed tighter around Taavin’s and they were drawn closer together, by just a fraction. “The woman said she came to see me, because in the West they say I am her, reborn. That I lookjust likemy grandmother.”
“The grandmother of the Champion… a curiosity shop designed for peering along the destiny Yargen has laid for us…” Taavin’s grip tightened to match. “That sounds like it could well be an apex. You are brilliant,” he whispered.
“No, I’m not. I’m just doing what any good Champion should and helping find a way to save our world.” There was a small, determined smile on her lips. She wanted to joke and be jovial. But she couldn’t. She had seen the end of the world in all its horrifying detail. The only thing standing between her and the ultimate death of everyone she loved was finding the apexes, seeing the futures there, and helping Taavin use those visions to stop the destruction the freed dark god Raspian wrought—or would, if they didn’t find a way to thwart him from gaining a physical form once more.
“Don’t be afflicted by a false sense of modesty. You can be both brilliant and a good Champion.” His mouth quirked into a similar grin. Then it fell from his face as his eyes drifted back down to her wrist. “You should go,” he said softly.
“I don’t have much time,” she agreed. Yet their fingers lingered, entwined. “I’ll summon you again when I’m able.”
“Please do. It’s much less lonely with you.”
What were his days like?The question lingered in the forefront of her mind. It was obvious Taavin didn’t like talking about himself. But at some point he had to—at some point she needed to know, if for no other reason than to get to him when she finally made it to Meru.
“Keep your fingers crossed for me.” Vi released him. “Hopefully, we’re on our way to another apex.”
Taavin gave a nod as she let go of their communication. Vi watched, staring through the spot he’d once stood. The man seemed so real to her. She could feel him, touch him, smell him as though he stood before her. But when she let go of the magic strung between them, there was nothing—a sobering reminder that Taavin was, in true flesh, across the world.
Pushing it from her mind, Vi sprinted up through the fortress, taking the stairs two at a time to hasten toward the unorthodox jail of Soricium.
Chapter Two
On the faredge of the fortress were the holding cages. Getting to them was no easy task—a feat Vi shouldn’t be able to perform.
After the first stairwell, Vi headed to a second via a long walkway supported by a branch already several stories up. She crossed to a third that wound around the outside of the tree. From time to time, she would look down for the sole purpose of continuing to acclimate to the dizzying height.
She couldn’t falter when the time came.
Her legs were aching and sore by the time she reached the top of the stairs. But her journey wasn’t nearly over yet. She stood on a wide landing that stretched outward toward another landing on a tree opposite. This tree was unique from all the others in the fortress for two reasons: the first was the wooden and stone cages that hung off its tall canopy; the second was that it had no permanent connection with any other tree.
To gain access, a Groundbreaker, a sorcerer with earth magic, would stretch a branch from the canopy of the tree she now stood within over to the far tree. But Vi wasn’t a Groundbreaker. The magic she practiced didn’t belong to any elemental affinity—it was an ancient sorcery known as Lightspinning.
Vi inched her way to the edge of the wide platform. The ground was so far below her now, the details blurred. She leaned over slightly, swallowing air down a completely dry throat.
“I hope this works…” Vi muttered.
