Earth's End (Air Awakens Series Book 3) (5 page)

The sounds began to grow and the sun hung low in the sky. A walk turned into a run and Vhalla realized that this was it, the last of her energy. When her feet stopped they would not move again for some time. In truth, if she fell, she would likely not ever rise as they would be upon her.

Judging from the rustle of trees and the consistent din of horses, the Northerners were gaining—and fast. Vhalla cried at the futility of her mission, agony coursing through her. All at once she broke through an artificial tree line into a blackened arc of earth.

The sunset was painfully bright compared to the dim forest, and Vhalla blinked in confusion as she heard a horn ring out to her right. It was a familiar sound that sparked hope in her once more. She turned to see two riders making their way toward her.

It only took a short assessment for Vhalla to be overwhelmed with relief; she collapsed to her knees as they came close enough for her to see that one’s armor was cast in black steel. She looked upon members of the Black Legion and the Imperial swordsmen.

The swordsman dismounted and gracefully drew a thin rapier. Vhalla blinked in a daze. He had a strong jaw, angular features, and straight black hair that fell around his ears. He was so familiar that it was almost like looking at a ghost.

“Who are you?” The man’s sword was at her chin and all familiarity to the crown prince vanished as Vhalla was absorbed by his cerulean eyes.

“Head Major Jax,” she croaked. “I must ... get to Head Major Jax.”

“Who are you?” the Firebearer demanded.

“I must get to ... Head Major Jax.” Vhalla pushed against the ground, ignoring the sword at her neck. Surprisingly, the man let her rise. He was silent and Vhalla’s eyes fell to his sword hand. His gauntlet was plated in gold. “You ... You’re ...” She struggled to remember everything Daniel and Craig had said about the Golden Guard on the march.

“Who are you?” Fire crackled around the fists of the Black Legion soldier, but Vhalla remained focused on the man before her.

“Lord Erion.” She finally remembered the name of the other Golden Guard still at Soricium. The Western man’s eyes grew large with surprise. “Lord Erion Le’Dan of the Golden Guard. Take me to Head Major Jax. The Northerners are coming and we don’t have much time.”

“They won’t cross the patrol line,” he said, neither confirming nor denying his identity. “They know this is our territory now.”

He didn’t realize how sweet the words were to her, and Vhalla swallowed relieved laughter. She kept her face from crumbling into a mess of emotion. “I have a message I must deliver to Head Major Jax. Take me to him
now
.”

“Who do you think you are? This is Lord Le—”

Erion held up a hand, stopping the man’s defense of his nobility. “I’ll take you to the camp palace.”

“You will?” Vhalla and the Black Legion soldier asked in unison.

“You speak in Southern common with a Cyven accent, and I assume you are meant to deliver whatever is in that bag?” He pointed to the satchel Vhalla didn’t realize she held in a death grip. She was clearly not about to hand it over.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” The Firebearer asked as the Golden Guard mounted his steed.

“A ragged girl? I’ll kill her if she tries anything,” Erion arrogantly proclaimed while reaching out a hand to allow Vhalla to mount.

Vhalla swallowed her pride, and accepted his help into the saddle. He forced her to sit in front, his arms on either side, gripping the reins. Erion spurred his horse forward, and Vhalla gripped its mane.

“What’s your name?” he asked out of earshot of his comrade as they worked their way across the large burnt trek.

“Serien.” Vhalla didn’t know why she lied. “Serien ...” He sounded uncertain.

“Leral.”

Further conversation ceased as they reached the brim of the valley Soricium sat within. Vhalla stared in awe as she saw the full Imperial army for the first time. Hundreds,
no thousands
, of tents and hovels were constructed down a shallow basin. Vhalla’s heart raced as she saw the true force of the Empire, the greatest achievement of the Emperor Solaris.

At the center stood a giant walled forest, trees even higher than the behemoths Vhalla had witnessed in the jungle. It was the last stronghold of the North. The final remnants of the once legendary sky city and the place Vhalla had been brought to conquer:
Soricium
.

Soldiers stared in curiosity as they rode down through camp toward a roughly built T-shaped building. Clearly the term “camp palace” had been used in irony.
She’d made it
, she realized in shock. She’d actually made it to the North.

“Major Jax is inside.” Erion dismounted, offering a hand to help her down.

Vhalla ignored it, walking ahead of him past the two confused guards on either sides of the door to the building. The room within was nothing more than makeshift walls and packed dirt, long tables at varying heights flanked either side of the hall. Men and women moved between papers and diagrams, leisurely discussing things. All turned as she entered.

“Head Major Jax,” Vhalla demanded as Erion entered behind her.

“Erion, how many times must I tell you not to bring me wild women until after dark? It’s distracting.” A man grinned wickedly. He had long black hair that was tied up into a bun, black eyes, and olive skin: a textbook Westerner.

Vhalla crossed over quickly, pulling the satchel off her shoulder. She held it out to him with trembling hands, suddenly filled with nervous energy. The head major cocked his head to the side, assessing her before prying it from her white-knuckled grip.

He placed it on the table, pulling out the parchment that was stained red at the edges. Jax moved from one paper to the next with increasing speed, the arrogance and humor of earlier falling from his face in favor of emotions Vhalla would deem far more appropriate.

Two dark eyes snapped up to her. “You ...”

“You have to send help,
now
.” Vhalla took a step forward. Her whole body had begun shaking. “Send him help. You can, right?”

“Erion, Query, Bolo!” Jax slammed the papers down on the table. “Assemble seven hundred of your best.”

“What?” One of the other majors gasped in shock. “
Seven hundred
?”

Jax didn’t even indulge the question. “Xilia!” A woman crossed over. “I need these clerical items, in duplicate for good measure.”

“In duplicate?” the woman repeated. Vhalla saw the long list of Elecia’s scribbling.

“Everyone else, go find your fastest, most reckless riders. Bring me the men and women who will put themselves and their mount’s lives last and their mission first.” The room stared at the Western man, open-mouthed. “Now!” Jax shouted, slapping his palm upon the table. “Go now!”

That was the first time Vhalla saw the true diligence of the Imperial army. Despite the confusion, the question, and all the vast unknowns, the soldiers moved. They did as their superior told them, and it was a sight so sweet that it made her want to cry in relief.

“They-they’re going to go?” Vhalla whispered, staring at the doors the last soldier had disappeared from.

“Yes, within the hour.” The major rounded the table slowly.

Exhaustion rode the wave of relief as it crashed upon her and her knees hit the ground. Vhalla braced her fall with an arm, the other clenching her stomach. She couldn’t breathe, but she felt dizzy with air. She wanted to laugh and sob and scream at the same time.
She’d made it to the North
.

Jax crouched before her. Vhalla’s gaze rose from his boots to his face. The Western man squinted.

“Vhalla Yarl, the Windwalker.” Her name on the lips of a stranger made her uneasy, and Vhalla sat back onto her feet to assess him with equal interest. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t you.”

She laughed bitterly, remembering Elecia’s first unappreciative assessment of her months ago. “Sorry to disappoint.”

The man tilted his head. “You show up as if you materialize from the wind itself, to save the life of the crown prince whom you jumped off the side of the Pass in an attempt to save. You’re unassuming, you’re filthy, and you’re soaked in what I can only presume to be the blood of our enemies.” A grin slowly spread across Jax’s face, like that of a rabid beast. “Who said anything about being disappointed?”

T
HE WASHROOM IS
back here.” Jax led her toward the upper part of the
T
Vhalla had seen from the outside.

She nodded and followed him mutely. In the wake of accepting her and Aldrik’s death, she was experiencing difficulty processing the concept of salvation. The hall perpendicular to the public area had one door at the end on the left side and two on either wall to Vhalla’s right with a fourth before her. The shoddy construction made it easy to tell that soldiers, not craftsman, had erected the building.

“Not really fitting for a lady, I know,” Jax chuckled. The bathroom was the bare essentials, and he quickly had a large wooden barrel filling with rainwater from a rooftop reservoir.

“I’m not a lady.” Vhalla shook her head. “This reminds me of home, actually.”

As a child, she’d bathed with her mother in a barrel not unlike the one she was faced with now. Thinking about her mother was odd. Vhalla wondered if the woman who had scolded her daughter for climbing too high in the trees and had sung lullabies would recognize the woman Vhalla had become. It was crushing how different Vhalla was from the last time she’d been home.

Jax leaned against the wall by the soaking barrel. “That’s not what Elecia wrote.”

“What isn’t?” She was jarred out of her thoughts.

“She said our Lord Ophain made you a Duchess of the West.” Jax folded his arms.

It took Vhalla too long to remember that Elecia was Lord Ophain’s granddaughter.
Of course she would have found out
. “A hollow title,” Vhalla laughed.

“And you’re quick to offend.” He stilled her amusement. “I take Western tradition quite seriously, and I will be the first to tell you I’m not alone.”

Vhalla remembered how Daniel had been elevated to lordship upon joining the Golden Guard. A fellow soldier would likely take such things seriously. “Sorry, I hadn’t meant—”

Jax roared with laughter. “You think I actually give a damn about those crusty old nobles? Reddening their cheeks and pretending their hair still grows in black?” All amusement fell from his face as suddenly as it appeared. “But seriously, some
would
take offense.”

Vhalla opened and closed her mouth, but words failed to form.

“Well, darling, I’d love to stay and join you, but I need to see those riders off. I’ll find you some fresher clothes on my way back.” Jax made for the door, stopping just in its frame. “You’ll be well enough alone?”

Vhalla brought her hands together, meeting the man’s eyes as he peered down at her over his shoulder. It was a serious question. There was something about his madness that called to her own.

“Yes,” Vhalla said with more confidence than she felt. “I’ll manage. Send the riders.”

Jax nodded, clearly understanding her priorities, and left. Vhalla turned to the steaming tub of water.
Jax must be a
Firebearer
, she mused. He heated the water just as Larel had heated the streams and ponds they bathed along the march. Peeling off her clothes was like shedding the shroud of the other woman. For weeks Vhalla had worn the memory like a shield, Larel’s last gift: her name in the form of Serien Leral.

The water was just shy of scalding hot but Vhalla still shivered.
She was alone
. Larel and Sareem gone, Fritz far away, and her library with its window seat ... Vhalla’s eyes fluttered closed with the pang of nostalgia. She allowed herself the sweet agony of dreaming, of thinking of returning to the palace in the south. Of sitting with Aldrik once more in his rose garden. Of finding something that was different from all she had known but was still something she could call normal.

Two quick raps on the door was the only warning before it pushed open again. “I brought you clothes.”

“I’m not!” Vhalla pressed her naked body to the side of the barrel, trying to hide it in the curve of the wood.

“You’re as red as Western crimson.” Jax laughed at the color of her face. “What? If you have something I
haven’t
seen, then that would be a real treat.”

“This isn’t ...” Vhalla was about to die from embarrassment. She’d bathed in group baths before, but with other
women
.

“I thought you weren’t a lady?” He grinned wildly. “Certainly acting like a noble flower with all this modesty.”

“I don’t know you!” she balked.

“Do you want to?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Out!” Vhalla demanded.

“If the lady commands.” Jax left, unapologetic.

Vhalla dunked her head under the water. This man was nothing like any noble she’d ever met.
Any sane person she’d ever met!

But he was thoughtful as well, she discovered. The water steamed at a perfect temperature once more. There was a mostly clean drying cloth waiting for her atop two different options for shirt and pants. Both were oversized on her petite frame, which had been narrowed by a long march and lean food. The shirt wore like a tunic, and the pants needed to be rolled. But with a belt they would sit on her hips rather than slide off.