She could see the pain on Aldrik’s and Vhalla’s faces as they spoke of a man they so clearly loved.Family. She remembered what it felt like to lose that.
The two left the library and it was only then that Vi realized her ears had been full of ringing that was just now beginning to fade.
“Are they going to see him?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Taavin replied from her side.
“He’s going to die.”
“I think so.”
Vi released her glyph.
“Where are you going?” Taavin was on his feet as well, appearing out of thin air.
“I don’t know yet.” Vi looked to him, holding out her hand. “Come with me?”
He took her waiting palm and that was all the affirmation she needed. This man was going to follow her to the ends of the earth, but asking him to follow her into the room of a dying man felt like too much.
Vi wandered the palace. Her feet felt the weight of every Vi before her. The ghost of every Solaris was over her shoulders, looking down at her, wondering how—with all the powers she possessed—she could not stop such misfortune from befalling them.
Vi ignored them. She had done her best. Every version of herself had done her best. That much was all Vi could believe.
She walked to the entrance of the royal quarters. Vi could almost smell the sick in the air from where she stood, hidden behind a corner so the guards didn’t see.
“What do you want to do?” Taavin asked in a whisper.
“I want…” She shook her head, sending the notion that had been creeping across her mind scattering like rats. “I want to get away from here. There’s nothing… there’s nothing for me if I stay.”
They retreated into the depths of the castle and slept in their old hideaway. But nightmares of Baldair and Raylynn filled her mind. They haunted her all throughout the next day, and those thoughts brought Vi back to the entrance of the royal quarters. Taavin had agreed to wait for her in the Tower library at her request.
She needed to do this alone.
Vi disguised herself as a cleric to pass by the guards. Then, she waited outside the prince’s door. She stood in the hallway till her feet ached, unable to bring herself to enter, doubting every movement until now.
Just when she was about to turn away, Aldrik bolted from Baldair’s room. Vi quickly stepped down the hall and uttereddurroeso he wouldn’t see her suspiciously lingering. When Aldrik returned, it was with a cleric. Vhalla Yarl was escorted out next; she was covered in blood that wasn’t her own. Aldrik brought her through a door across the hall and Vi seized the opportunity.
She relaxed the glyph around her fingers. With the clothing of a cleric, she boldly stepped inside Prince Baldair’s chambers. Clerical supplies filled the once-happy room like tiny tombstones.
“Just one of you?” a man said. Vi recognized him by his attire as a head cleric.
“I think more are coming,” Vi said, hoping she wasn’t wrong. She had no idea what she was doing, but it was too late to back out now.
“Good, we need the hands. Now, bring me those rags.”
Vi grabbed a pile of rags that had been set on a low table by the door. She carried them though a side door and into the prince’s bedroom. Here, the stench of illness was so thick that Vi was surprised she couldn’t see it in the air.
The golden prince was coated in blood, doubled over and coughing.
“Don’t just stand there, girl. Put them down and hold this,” the man said sharply, motioning to the bucket in his hands.
Vi placed the rags at the foot of the bed and did as she was told. The head cleric left the room immediately and Vi could hear him clanking around the clerical supplies as Baldair heaved monumental coughs, blood and spittle coming up with each one. When he seemed to find a reprieve, Vi reached for a rag to gently wipe his face.
His cerulean eyes were half-hidden behind heavy lids. But he seemed to gain a moment of focus when he looked at her.
“Hello,” she whispered.
“He—” He was coughing again, and Vi held up the bucket once more to catch everything that came out.
