Water's Wrath (Air Awakens #4)(104)

Vhalla realized they were keeping their presence silent. She wondered if they had been coached by Elecia or Aldrik, or if it was simply Cass’s keen insight.

“Do you? How is our mad sorcerer doing?” The grocer began to tally up the pile on the counter.

“You know Fritz.” Cass smiled as she began to count coins from a bag strapped to her hip.

“The lad has never grown up.” The man chuckled as they began to collect the groceries. Cass passed a bag of flour to Vhalla, and she noticed the man staring at her strangely.

“Nia?” He squinted.

“Please excuse us, Daren!” Cass herded them out.

“What are you doing?” Reona hissed as they were loading the horse’s saddlebags.

“I don’t know.” Cass paused, glancing at Vhalla. “But I didn’t see how we could explain having the prince or the Windwalker at our house.”

Being called the Windwalker stung.

“What’s the point of having a prince if we’re not gonna tell anyone about it?” Reona whined.

“Hush.” Cass rolled her eyes.

“Thank you,” Vhalla said earnestly. She realized the foreign horse would likely give away that something was different in such a small town. But perhaps it could be explained away as Fritz’s mount from the palace.

“We should head home.” Cass noticed Vhalla considering her horse and had the same idea.

“We should.”

They tied up the last of their supplies to the saddles, and Vhalla adjusted the hood on her head, suddenly conscious of her own existence. Reona huffed, annoyed that her big secret actually had to remain just that.

A scream rang out through the quiet town.

All three girls turned to the source of the sound. A commotion was being raised at the far end. Vhalla glanced to Cass.

“Reona, stay here with the horses,” the elder sister ordered.

“I’m coming.” Vhalla fell into step by the eldest Charem girl. Cass gave her a nod and did not question.

A crowd was quickly gathering at the main entrance to the town. People of all shapes and sizes poured into the street to see the source of the commotion. Judging by the size of the group, everyone who lived in the area was likely there. Cass squinted over people’s heads. Vhalla had no hope of seeing, even on her toes. They pushed around the side to one of the storefronts. Standing on some wooden boxes, they could finally see the source of the fuss.

It was then that Vhalla realized how true the princess’s words had been.

“Jon, Jon! What, what is wrong, Jon?” a woman blubbered, stepping forward from the semi-circular crowd. A man had walked, judging by the footprints, through the mountain snow, and he had come a very long way. He wore the bloodied and torn uniform of a palace guard. Blood no longer oozed from the gaping wounds in-between his plate. It had crusted and frozen.

His head tilted to the side, weighed down by a rock that jutted out from his eye. No, it wasn’t a rock. Vhalla’s eyes widened. The crystal shone unnaturally in the light of the afternoon. Blood coated the man’s face from where the magical object had been shoved through. His other eye shone red, and his skin had turned to leather. Whoever this man had been, he was no more.

“I have been sent.” His voice echoed, raspy and hollow, across the silenced crowd. “As a messenger, from your new sovereign.” The crystal glowed ominously as he spoke, everyone stared in horror.

“I fought for the old regime, for the wicked Emperor Solaris, oppressor of power. For my loyalty, I was justly put to death, as were all who stood with the dying sun.” The man’s body did not move as he spoke; it was as rigid as a corpse, save for his jaw. “The family Solaris is dead. The Emperor died a screaming death. He has been flayed, his entrails set out for the birds and his skin used to make our lord’s first banner. His lady wife followed him after. The sons Solaris perished to hand over their succession rights to our lord’s divine right to rule. Their bodies have been quartered and fed to dogs.”

Vhalla’s hands rose to her mouth. Baldair, was her only thought. The idea of Victor disgracing the remains of the golden prince gave her a sickening mental image. An image that she would use as kindling to stoke the malice she held for Victor into a fever heat.

“There will be no quarter given to those who show a love for the fallen sun that is the family Solaris. They are all dead and rotting. Even the Windwalker was put to death for her well-known love of the late crown prince.”

Vhalla blinked. The man spoke of her. Victor proclaimed Aldrik and her dead to the world. He did not know they had managed to escape the caverns and found shelter from the winter. In all his over-confidence, he was so drunk on triumph that he missed their salvation at the hands of Elecia, Jax, and Fritz.

“Love your new lord for he is akin to the Gods, supreme king, our one true master, governor of this world, Victor Anzbel. Those who share a fraction of his power as sorcerers are to be heralded as his chosen ones. They are invited to the capital to swear fealty and live the life of nobility. Those unchosen, Commons, are to learn their new place and prostrate themselves before their magical overseers.” The grotesque animation finished its speech.

Vhalla felt an awful wrenching inside of her. This was the power she had unleashed. This was the fate she had allowed to be brought upon the world.

“We need to go.” Vhalla grabbed Cass’s elbow. The girl stared, gaping at the nightmare. “Now.”