He stood suddenly and stepped away from her and the movement jarred Vi from the almost trance-like state she was in. Her hand was outstretched, as if she had been about to grab him. But Vi hadn’t given her body permission to move. She snatched her hand back, holding it to her chest as if it were wounded.
“What have you seen?” he whispered.
“The end of it all.”It ends with me, she wanted to say. She would be the last one standing, before she gave the goddess her remaining hours. “We are on the right path.” Vi studied his face as conflict raged across it. “I expected you to be happy about this news.”
“Hope is a fragile thing.” Didn’t she know it. “For all I want to believe we’re on the right path… the stones in the river remain. Our duty remains.”
“Seeing the birth of a new Champion is not your duty,” Vi said sharply. “Saving this world is.”
“Part of saving it is ensuring it doesn’t end,” he retorted. “We finish things here and head West to the Crossroads. From there, we’ll rejoin the Imperial army and swap the axe.”
Taavin started for the door, but Vi remained in place. She wished she could make him understand, wished things were still simple, as simple as they had ever been, between them. But something held her back… only for a moment.
Vi broke free of whatever tethers were holding her, raced after him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. She clutched him tightly, her cheek on his back. Taavin’s warmth seeped into her and thawed the icy indifference that had been trying to encase her.
He felt like him, and she like her.
Yargen’s magic was quiet.
“There’s a point when we won’t be able to run from it anymore,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“I do.”
All they had ever had was borrowed time. Eventually the choice would have to be made to risk everything, and that choice was nearly upon them. The moment she held the axe, there would be no going back. The flame of Yargen would be extinguished. Its magic would be used to restore Yargen in Vi, and its ashes used to summon Raspian.
“Then we’ll follow along until the axe,” Vi said, sparing him the agony of spelling it out bluntly.
His hand covered hers. “Thank you.”
She nodded and closed her eyes. For a little longer, they could enjoy these fleeting moments of peace; they could enjoy each other.
Because if what Vi saw truly came to pass… neither of them was long for this world.
* * *
It took the army a few months to finally arrive in the Crossroads. The military arrived carried on the back of desperation, a sandstorm on their heels.
Tales of Vhalla Yarl were whispered on every tongue in the days following. People spoke of her bravery, of the power of the Windwalker, of her running into the storm head-first and saving them all. Vi was certain there were embellishments here and there; much like the rumors Taavin heard in the Tower of Sorcerers, every story was more fantastic than the last.
But there was also truth there.
Vhalla Yarl had performed a feat that had endeared and indebted thousands to her.
Then, one morning, out of nowhere, Vi woke up from a tortured dream feeling filled with purpose. She slipped out of bed, well before Taavin or Deneya rose, and silently dressed. Her two companions didn’t so much as stir as she donned the traditional robes of a Western future seer.
She traversed down the stairs and silently began to get the shop in order, placing things just so on instinct. Her hands moved like a puppet’s, obliging silent commands she’d been ignoring since absorbing the crown. An hour had passed when she realized she wasn’t alone. Vi didn’t know how long it had been, but Taavin stood at the foot of the stairs that led up to their apartment.
“What is it?” The man was shirtless, his broad chest and sculpted abdomen on display. Vi knew it well. Her fingers had run over those carved muscles countless times since the day she’d made them. Seeing him sparked yearning. It sparked emotions in her that wouldn’t serve her well today. So she looked away.
“It’s today.”
“What is?”
“Vhalla Yarl will come to me today.”
