Earth's End (Air Awakens Series Book 3) (6 page)

The major stood waiting for her across the hall when she exited. Vhalla’s face was instantly scarlet again, and she pursed her lips to keep in her frustration.

Jax pushed away from the wall, keenly picking up on her emotion. “What do you know, there was a woman under all that blood and grime.”

Vhalla shifted her chainmail tunic awkwardly in her hands. “Right, this way.” He turned away from the side of the hall that ended with a single door. There was a door on either side of them, and Vhalla quickly realized whose quarters these were.

“Is this Prince Baldair’s or Prince Aldrik’s room?” She paused in the doorway Jax was leading her through.

“Baldair’s. He won’t mind, and you look dead on your feet.” Vhalla stared across the hall, and Major Jax didn’t miss the obvious thoughts floating across her face. “Unless you’d rather stay in the crown prince’s room?”

“I would,” she whispered.

Jax let Vhalla wander across the hall alone. He hovered in Baldair’s doorway, watching the Windwalker as she slowly pushed up the simple wooden latch that held the crown prince’s door closed. His eyes followed her as she comfortably, almost reverently, entered the quarters of the most private man in the Empire.

There was nothing notable about it, a few chests against one wall, a bed opposite, and a desk positioned near a shuttered window. Vhalla stopped to engage in a staring contest with an empty armor stand waiting for its owner’s plate to return.

Aldrik’s mangled face flashed before her eyes, and Vhalla gripped her shirt over her stomach, willing the sickening feeling away.

“Here.” Jax placed a palm on her shoulder, causing Vhalla to nearly jump out of her skin.

She stared down at the vial in his hand. “Only one?” Every time she’d been wounded, half a cleric’s box was forced down her throat.

“Are your wounds severe enough to merit more?” Jax asked earnestly. Vhalla shook her head. “Not the physical ones at least, right?”

Vhalla pulled away from him, squaring her shoulders toward the Western man, defensive of her feelings. He was like wildfire, unpredictable, burning through one emotion and then the next. She squinted up at him and opened her mouth to speak.

A silent knowing gleamed in his eyes, a depth that both stilled and humbled her. His fingers wrapped around hers, closing them around the vial. “Drink, Vhalla Yarl, and get a good night’s sleep. From the looks of you, it’s been a while.”

Jax left her before she could respond. Vhalla stared at the vial in her hand and wondered just what the man could see in her, what the world saw in her now. Her thoughts spun like a top, faster and faster, out of control until she eagerly brought the potion to her lips, drinking it in a gluttonous gulp.

Vhalla collapsed upon the bed,
his
bed.

It smelled stale. The linens hadn’t been washed in a long time, if ever. They had a dry crunch and gave off a damp and earthy aroma. But somewhere under the musty scent was a musk that Vhalla knew well. She curled in on herself, clutching at the mattress, pillows, and blanket. Leather, steel, eucalyptus, fire and smoke, and a scent that was distinctly
Aldrik—
a combination that overwhelmed her.

When Vhalla woke next, she expected to have only slept for a few hours. The sun hung low in the sky and the room was dim with the orange light that penetrated the slats of the window shutters. She dragged her feet to the main room; it was mostly empty, save for two men having a drink at the end of one of the long tables.

“Sleeping beauty wakes.” Jax grinned, his hair was loose and it fell straight to his lower chest.

“It hasn’t been that long.” Vhalla sat a good space away from Lord Erion and across from the head major. “Only a day,” Erion mumbled over his drink. “What?”

“You were out a bit. Guess I was right about that whole sleeping thing,” Jax said proudly.

A day ... She had slept for a whole day
. Vhalla quickly did the math in her head. “Any word from the riders sent?”

“It’s only been a day. They can’t even be halfway.” Erion set his flagon on the table.

“I made it in two days,” Vhalla felt the need to point out to him.

“Well, you must not be human.” He glanced at her sideways. “Maybe you’re half-wind,
Serien
.”

Vhalla ran a hand through her hair, checking it from the corners of her eyes to see if the black ink that masked her Eastern brown had washed out from the bath. It hadn’t completely, but it had faded enough to contribute to the Western man’s suspicions. She looked across to Jax, but he had already begun the swift process of changing the topic.

They were both Golden Guard, but Jax hadn’t shared her identity despite Erion’s clear suspicions. Vhalla could guess why it would make sense not to prematurely reveal her true name, but she didn’t have a reason to expect such loyalty from a man she hardly knew. They placed food in front of her, and Vhalla stared at it listlessly. Her mind was full, which meant it silenced the grumbling of her stomach. But Vhalla knew she must be hungry.

Slowly, diligently, she cleaned her plate. In the forests to the south, there was a dying prince depending on her strength. Elecia had said that one person couldn’t sustain two, and Vhalla meant to prove her wrong. At the least, she’d buy them all more time.

Vhalla returned promptly to Aldrik’s bed and buried herself under the blankets. She slept as long as her body demanded, which proved to be a fair deal, and ate everything she could in the following three days. Vhalla worked to restore her strength and conserve her energy, avoiding any undue exertion or risk. It meant most of her time was spent within the camp palace among the other majors, but Vhalla quickly found herself of use.

During the day, she transcribed notes for Jax as he helped manage half the army. He and Erion had been left in command alongside a grizzled old major whom Vhalla had yet to interact with. There were no objections from the majors toward their current commanders in the stead of the Imperial family. The only time questions arose was from trying to decipher Jax’s notes, and thus Vhalla had found an immediate use.

The Black Legion’s Head Major’s penmanship was laughable, and the majors were grateful for Vhalla’s cleaner lines and tidier letters in their ledgers and records. The appreciation was mutual, as it gave Vhalla the opportunity to learn about the siege and the army in a way she never had before. Her prior readings on military tactics and methodologies began to make more sense when given the framework of a real life situation. Vhalla saw how troops were managed on the perimeter. She sat quietly and let the men and women talk about rationing and sending hunting parties into the surrounding woods. She also began to see the lines between theory and actuality. Vhalla repeated in her head the information she gleaned, quickly committing it to memory and filing it away for later use.

Her days were quite full, which only made the empty nights harder. Without distractions her mind began to wander. The silence seemed to stretch into eternity and seeped into her Bond with Aldrik, making her question if it was finally beginning to waver. Nothing about the Channel between her and Aldrik felt as it had been. Like the dormant earth in winter, she had no dreams of his memories and no heartbeat in her ears other than her own.

Vhalla prayed that it was the distance and his weakness taking their toll. But she didn’t know for certain. Not knowing, combined with the emptiness, threatened to drive her mad.

On her fourth day, she’d indulged in a mid-day sleep, only to be woken by trumpets in the late evening.
It couldn’t be Aldrik returning
, she reasoned. At the earliest, he’d be ten more days, so Vhalla rolled over and pulled the blankets over her head. She felt amazing with all the rest and proper eating, but Vhalla remained determined. The seven days Elecia had promised were almost up and somewhere on the far edge of her consciousness was an exhausted wavering of magic.

The door opened and Vhalla turned groggily, not expecting the man who entered.

“Well, I can’t recall the last time I caught a woman in my brother’s bed.” Baldair laughed summer into her frozen world.

She sat quickly, letting the sound wash over her. Vhalla stared in shock at the golden-haired prince. She and Prince Baldair hadn’t had the most stable or conventional of relationships, but he had given her and Aldrik one last night before they entered the North—before they were parted, potentially forever. The younger prince likely had no idea the place he had earned in Vhalla’s heart with that.

“Baldair,” Vhalla breathed, a sigh of relief. The sight of him was warm familiarity. Vhalla never thought she’d say it, or even think it, but Prince Baldair was the most comforting thing she’d seen in weeks.

“I hardly expected to find you here,” he chuckled. “I imagine it’s quite the story.”

Vhalla frowned. He was carrying on as though there was some wild tale to her presence that they would share and laugh at over a hearty drink. Her eyes darted to where Jax hovered in the doorframe. “You didn’t tell him?”

“The second I told him you were here he asked to come see you,” Jax explained.

Vhalla looked back at the younger prince, dread filling her.
Why was she to be the one to bear this news?
“Baldair,” she started slowly.

“What?” The broad-shouldered man glanced between her and Jax.

“I tried to save him.” The words brought a bundle of emotion with them that Vhalla choked on momentarily. “I tried, and I failed.”

“Mother, woman, you’re scaring me.” Baldair sat heavily on the bed and scooped up her hands in his. Vhalla didn’t know who he was comforting, but it seemed to go both ways. “What are you talking about?”

“Aldrik’s dying.”

The words slapped Baldair across the face, and his head jerked toward Jax. “What is she—”

“She’s being dramatic.” Vhalla scowled at Jax’s words. The man raised his eyebrows. “You somehow have more insight than I even though we’ve been side-by-side for days?”

Vhalla opened her mouth and thought better of telling him exactly what and how she knew.

“But,” the Westerner relented with a sigh, “things aren’t good.” He produced some familiar blood-stained papers from the inner breast pocket of the tired military jacket he wore and handed them to Baldair.

Vhalla focused on a corner of the room, unable to bear Jax’s frustrating nature or Baldair’s expressions as he read through the accounts from Major Reale and Elecia. The prince sighed softly and relaxed his grip on the letters. “Vhalla?” Baldair asked. He had a lost and fearful look that matched her heart perfectly. “Did you really do all this?”

“Did what?” She shifted uncomfortably under the weight of Baldair’s stare.

“You jumped from the Pass and ran through the North, alone?”

“Someone had to.” The feat didn’t seem nearly worth all the amazement in Baldair’s eyes—
of course she would do those things
.

“Has there been any word from the host or riders?” Baldair asked Jax.

The head major shook his head. “None from the riders ... the host marches forward as planned.”

Baldair stood, handing the papers back to Jax. “Aldrik is strong, and I know that he will not let himself die now. Not when he finally has a reason to truly live again. That brother of mine is likely just trying to get out of marching the rest of the way here.” Baldair’s laugh was forced.

“But for the here and now, food and company will do us all some good.” The golden prince extended a calloused hand to her, and Vhalla took it. The prince’s strength was often touted as being physical. But Vhalla was beginning to learn that the man known for breaking hearts seemed to have a rather large one of his own.

Baldair paused at the door. “Ah, it’s Serien still, right?”

“For now. I thought it safer that way,” Jax confirmed. “Best not to let the camp rumors start until we have the Emperor’s input on them.”

“What happened to your Windwalker?” Vhalla asked as they left the room.

“She was killed.” Baldair glanced at her, and Vhalla was surprised to find a protective edge to his manner.

“The Emperor’s was also,” she reported.

“Aldrik’s?”

“Not as of when I left.” Vhalla shook her head.

“If he was putting on a show, he was likely protecting her as he would have you,” Baldair thought aloud. They rounded the corner for the main room. “Sorry to keep you waiting, friends!” There was laughter and japes at Baldair’s expense for being held up with a mystery woman as he started for a table with his Golden Guard. The room was filled with more majors and soldiers, all seeming to celebrate the return of the favored prince. Jax and Baldair were halfway to a table before they realized she was not walking with them.

Her eyes were affixed upon an Eastern face and a rainbow of emotion burst into color within the dark hollow of Vhalla’s chest. Daniel stood slowly, staring at her in shock. Vhalla remembered the last time she’d seen him, the weeks they’d spent together the last time she had been Serien. It brought the mask of the other woman back to her in a rush and all the conflicted feelings along with it.

The room instantly noticed the odd exchange, adding their glances and whisperers beneath the conversation that politely continued on. Daniel rounded the table in a daze, his focus only on her as if she was the last thing on the earth. Vhalla swallowed. She didn’t know what he saw—
who
he saw in her.

Daniel’s feet went from dragging to a near run as he crossed to her in desperately wide steps. His body crashed against hers and his arms swept her into an all-encompassing embrace. Her arms responded before she could think, ready to welcome the only person who had been there when the world had taken everyone else from her.

“You’re alive.” Daniel’s breath was hot on her neck.

“I’m Serien ...” she whispered dumbly, reminding herself and him to play the necessary part.

“I don’t care what name.” He squeezed her tighter, if it were possible. “You’re
you
, and that’s all I need.”