“Durroe watt radia,” she whispered. A glyph appeared around her wrist and magic shimmered at the edges of her vision. A cloak of invisibility settled on her shoulders and she prepared herself to wait.
After about an hour, she heard the whinny of a horse and the clop of hooves over the mountain path. Her muscles had long since seized and gone numb from the waiting. But Vi remained rigid, watching. Her time in the wild had taught her nothing if not patience.
The horse came into view. The broad-shouldered rider atop wore a hooded cloak of deep blue that covered almost all of his face. Vi leaned forward, as though that would help her sight penetrate the shadow the cowl cast.
He continued forward, oblivious to her, down the path he’d arrived from and eastward—the direction one would take to the Capital. Vi waited until he was long out of sight before releasing her magic and making haste up the pathway to the Crystal Caverns.
The moment she entered, Vi pushed magic out through her feet, the crystals illuminating in response to the arrival of the Champion. She searched, but nothing seemed out of place. “Narro hath hoolo.”
The words passed her lips easily. Glyphs shone above her bundled chest, hovering over where the watch was underneath. A man with deep plum hair, bright green eyes, and a crescent scar on his cheek stood before her.
He appeared from a slowly rotating glyph that unraveled to carve his outline from the thin air. But when the light faded, he remained. In this place, with the power of Yargen in the very air, he was more real than ever.
“Good morning,” Taavin greeted her warmly, though the expression fell flat when his eyes settled on her. “What is it?”
“There was a man here.” Vi continued to look around, running her fingertips over the crystals, feeling the magic stored within them and searching for some sign of trauma.
“What kind of man?” Taavin asked, tone grave.
“I couldn’t see his face. He wore a simple woolen cloak of navy blue.”
“From the Capital?”
“He headed back in that direction. But I can’t say for sure.” Vi’s hand fell at her side. “I don’t know what he did here. I can’t feel anything different in the crystals.”
“Then whatever he did, it wasn’t anything significant.”
“It worries me, though, seeing someone come to the Caverns.”
The world had been quiet for the past fourteen years when it came to the Crystal Caverns. There had been a traveler only one other time—a Western man who arrived shortly after Fiera’s death—likely in search of the sword or evidence of what had transpired. Since then, it had been quiet. The sort of quiet that Vi had allowed to lull her into a false sense of security.
“Based on previous timelines, people tend to become interested in this place again around now,” Taavin said quietly, scanning the shimmering blue crystals.
“I know.” She had made Taavin tell her of the different iterations of the world time and again, over and over, until she knew many by heart. Vi looked down at the sword clutched in her hands. “That means there isn’t much time.”
“You’re close, and you know it.” Taavin rested his hand heavily on her shoulder. Every time she summoned him here, Vi savored the slightest of touches for how real they felt. “Perhaps today’s the day.”
“Perhaps,” Vi murmured.
Years ago, Raylynn, Zira’s daughter, had asked Vi to make her a crystal weapon. Her answer then had been no. But if the girl were to ask today… Vi’s answer would be different.
“I should get to work.” She stepped away from him and Taavin assumed his position not far from her, leaning against a crystal. His tall form cut against the light with an agonizing handsomeness that still, even after all this time, stirred desire within her.
Her need for him didn’t cool no matter how much she wanted it to. Seeing him like this would always be bittersweet. The truth of his nature was a barrier they’d never been able to surpass.
Focusing, Vi unsheathed the Sword of Jadar, set the scabbard aside, and held the hilt with both hands. She slowly lowered it and, when the very tip met the ground, a jolt of magic burst through the Caverns. The sword was made of crystals—the raw power of Yargen given physical form in the world—so its magic slotted in with the Caverns naturally.
Uncurling her fingers one by one, Vi pulled her hands away, holding them out. Magic arced like a cold, slow-burning fire between her palms and the weapon. She could feel it wrapped tightly around the backs of her fingers, trying to collapse in on itself and return to the sword. Vi twisted her wrists and lifted her hands upward. Her muscles strained, trembling, as though she were lifting a colossal weight.
But she made her mind calm and focused. She controlled this power—not the other way around. Turning her wrists inward once more, Vi felt the last dredges of power drain from the sword. The magic wrapped around her hands, but it almost felt as though it seeped into her. Making a cage with her fingers, she brought the magic together in a ball before her. It fought against her grasp, seeking freedom.
She continued to compress the magic, forcing it inward. The pale blue of raw magic became a blindingly bright light. Sweat dripped down her neck as she focused on condensing the magic.
Pop.
Blinking into the relative dimness, Vi stared at the crystal that hovered in an aura of seafoam blue between her hands. She had drawn the magic from the sword and condensed it down into anewcrystal. She let out the breath she’d been holding. Vi hadn’t dared breathe for the first part of the process.
Twisting her right hand so the crystal hovered just above her palm, Vi lifted her left.
