Mysst,to craft.
Xieh,shield.
The two words together saved her life once when she’d fought against an elfin’ra—an agent of the dark god Raspian. Together, they formed a shield of magic that guarded against any form of physical or magic attacks. But Vi had a theory about it, one she’d been testing in her room out of curiosity.
If the shield could block physical things, it could also support them. With that logic, she’d balanced books on the magical discusmysst xiehformed. But she was a lot heavier than a stack of books.
“Mysst xieh.” Vi raised her right hand, pointing it before her. The glyph appeared at her command, hovering above the balcony’s edge.
Timidly, Vi lifted her foot, resting it on the spinning light. It was firm, yet there was some give to it—as though she was sinking through a layer of magic to a solid base. She imagined this must be what snow felt like, based on what Uncle Jax had described—but thankfully, the magic was much less cold. Placing her weight on her leg, Vi lifted her other foot onto the disk.
It held, and she let out an audible sigh of relief.
“Now, for the second.” Lifting her left hand, Vi pointed before her. “Mysst xieh.”
A step away from the first, a nearly identical glyph formed. This one, however, hovered over the open air. There was no safety net of the balcony beneath her. If her magic failed her… she’d be dead.
Vi had fallen from these trees only once, when she was attacked in the night. She had no intention of doing it a second time. Steeling her resolve, Vi took a step forward, leaving doubts behind her.
Her right foot landed on the second glyph, followed by her left. She could see the ground underneath her through the shimmering rings of magic. Her stomach soured. Lifting her eyes, Vi looked across to the other tree.
Had it always been that far?Closing her right hand into a fist, the first glyph disappeared. She stood on the second with both feet as she pointed her right hand just ahead of her.
“M-Mysst xieh.” The light flowed together, failed to link up, flickered and vanished. Vi swallowed hard. She had to keep herself together or her magic would fall apart.
“Mysst xieh.” Vi’s confidence was rewarded when the third, much more stable shield formed. She quickly balled her hand into a fist, holding it in place as though she were gripping a lifeline in open, shark-infested water. Her nails dug into her palms as Vi stepped from the second shield to the third.
When all her weight was balanced, she released her grip on the second glyph and moved to make the fourth.
Like stepping stones, Vi made her own bridge of light across to the other tree. Every howling gust of winter wind swept up her long braid, catching it like a whip, trying to yank her over. Vi crouched, keeping her center of balance low, her magic focused.
Around halfway, Vi noticed the glyphs began to diminish in size. She had to conserve her magic, otherwise she’d risk them breaking under her weight. But if she made them too small, there may not be enough room for her feet at all. By the time she made it across, they were barely larger than her shoe.
“By the Mother.” Vi doubled over as her feet landed on the balcony at the other side. She grabbed her knees and breathed for a moment. Her whole body quaked with nerves she’d refused to acknowledge moments ago. “That actually worked,” she whispered in wonder. If she’d been a Firebearer like her father and grandmother, there would’ve been no way to cross.
Father. Vi stood straighter. Finding the apexes wasn’t just to prevent the end of the world—though the apocalypse was a pretty good motivator. It was also for him, to see him again, to confirm he had not died a watery death.
His body still had yet to be recovered.
Turning, Vi started into the tree trunk and up a final set of stairs. She reached the top of the trees as the sun crested the horizon. Vi blinked into the light as it broke. There wasn’t much time; the stewards and attendants would come soon, and if they didn’t find her in bed it’d arouse suspicion.
Around this walkway, the cages she’d seen from before drifted back and forth in the wind. Vines as big as her thigh held them in place, securing together a birdcage of rock and branches. Most were empty—Soricium had a city jail for drunkards and cutpurses. These pens were for the exclusive use of the Chieftain.
The people held here were the worst of the worst.
At least… that was how it was supposed to be.
“You’re new.” A man in the cage opposite her as she rounded the tree trunk slowly raised his head. Vi could barely make out his words over the creaks of the swaying branches in the wind.
He was curled in a ball, knees to his chest, arms around them. His shoulder-length dark hair was stringy. The man’s clothes were dingy and his lips were chapped from exposure to the elements.
His eyes narrowed slightly as Vi approached the edge of the walkway.
“You’re not one of them.”
She assumed “them” to mean Sehra’s warriors—the guards of the fortress. “I’m not.”
“To what do I owe the honor of the crown princess of the Solaris Empire coming to see me?” he finally asked after a minute’s staring.
