“If you’re talking about the fellow with the magnificently ridiculous mustache, he left the restaurant with Vhalla tonight,” Deneya said eagerly.
“I know, I saw him too. He’s going to capture Vhalla. I don’t know how, but he will, and he’s going to bring her to the windmill on the mountainside of Mosant, no doubt on the way to the Crystal Caverns.”
“A mustached man… Knight of Jadar… Schnurr!” Taavin’s murmurings evolved into a single excited name.
“Yes!” Vi could see it now. Schnurr had been under Fiera’s command years ago during the fall of Norin. The man she’d seen in the square had been a much older Schnurr.
“His death is inevitable, in all worlds,” Taavin said. It was an echo of a conversation they’d had on the beach in Oparium, something she should’ve paid much closer attention to. “I wasn’t even thinking of tracking his movements because he usually meets his end during one of the battles in the North.”
“So he’s never captured Vhalla before?” Deneya asked.
“No,” Taavin said gravely. “Perhaps I was wrong about Schnurr, and his life is variable.”
Vi had no desire to see Schnurr’s life left to the hands of fate. Not when she wanted to wring the neck of every Knight of Jadar personally. But her focus was the axe, not the Knights or the man who seemed to be their current general in the gap Twintle left.
“We’ll go to Mosant.” They arrived at the shop and Vi hustled inside. “Taavin and I will.”
“What am I doing?” Deneya asked as Vi rummaged through her bags.
She pulled out a small box and opened it. A hoop earring was inside—her communication token with Adela. “I’m going to call theStormfrostto Norin. You’re going to Risen.”
“Vi, you can’t mean—” Taavin started.
“This is it,” she interrupted firmly. “This is the moment, Taavin. This is what we’ve been working toward, what every Vi and Taavin has worked toward for the past ninety-three turns of the vortex. We’re not following Yargen’s red lines of fate anymore. We’re drawing them ourselves.”
“And what if we get it wrong?” he challenged, though his protest wasn’t as strong as Vi had once remembered.
“Then this ends. One way or another, this ends.” Vi looked to Deneya. The woman had been a steadfast and loyal companion. “What do you think?”
“I get a say?” Deneya arched her eyebrows.
“You’ve been with us through all of this… I think it’s only fair.”
“I never much liked the idea of being the ninety-third version of myself. I like the idea of the world being trapped in a futile loop even less.” Deneya grabbed her traveling pack from the corner of the room with determined movements. “I’d rather see the world end than be chained to the wheel of fate.”
Vi looked to Taavin.
His eyes were fraught with frantic hopelessness. Vi crossed to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She held him in an effort to bring comfort to him, as he had brought it to her.
“It’s all right,” she whispered, placing her forehead on his and looking him in the eye. Deneya packed, giving them some privacy with her back to them. “We can do this.”
“If she goes to Risen, if she extinguishes the flame… that’s it.”
“I know.”
“There’s no more lingering essence of Yargen to restart the world. The last of her autonomous consciousness will be lost.”
“I know.” Vi sighed softly. “Everything ends eventually.”
He pressed his eyes closed and held his breath. Vi braced herself with him. They would take these final steps together, holding and helping each other along the way.
“All right.” Taavin opened his eyes and stepped away. “Deneya, when you go to Risen, you’ll need to get to the Voice…”
Their conversation faded away as Vi sprinted downstairs and began to saddle the horse Vhalla had given them. Deneya would extinguish the flame and bring its ashes to her. Vi would extract the magic from within them just as she would extract the magic from the axe, and the remaining power in the Crystal Caverns.
After that, the only piece of Yargen’s essence that was left was—
Her hands hovered midmotion, forgetting what she had just been doing. She let out a small whimper as if she’d been punched in the gut.
