Fire Falling (42 page)

But her warning was validated the second Northerners were carried through the flames atop the backs of giant beasts unlike anything Serien had ever seen. It was a cat-like creature with double-jointed back legs and claws larger than a man’s thigh. Its thick fur was slick and whatever was atop it was impervious to the flames it had leapt over.

Two more came, carrying even more riders, who quickly dismounted, entering the fray with their double-sworded stances. The first one was barreling toward the Emperor and Windwalker, their target clear. The Emperor drew his sword, positioning his mount fearlessly to face the Northerner head on.

It wasn’t even a competition. The horse moved at the Emperor’s command, and Emperor Solaris moved as if his enemy had told him all the attacks they would make. He sliced the man’s head clean off, dodging all blades.

The Northerners didn’t seem interested in engaging any of the soldiers, and the Imperial army was left to struggle to impede the enemies’ leaps and jumps toward the Windwalker. Yet somewhere amid the chaos, she managed to hear the sound of a bowstring. Serien turned, finding the archer immediately in their roost.

The arrow was headed straight for the Emperor, who was engaged in heated combat. She swallowed her pride and stuck out her hand. The arrow stopped just as the Emperor was about to turn his face into it. He wasn’t able to conceal his amazement as the arrow dropped to the ground harmlessly.

Two cerulean eyes found hers. There was no love there, not an iota of appreciation. Serien set her jaw and missed the sound of another arrow being set loose.

By the time any of them heard it, it was too late.

The false Windwalker was knocked off her mount, she fell backwards and out of her saddle, an arrow protruding from her face. The Imperial company stared in shock, and the Northerners hollered in victory, making a calculated retreat. One by one the Imperial soldiers turned to the Emperor with apprehension.

“Leave her.” The Emperor turned his horse forward.

Serien lingered, longer than she likely should have, to stare at the body of the dead woman. It could have been
her
. That woman had died for Vhalla Yarl, and Vhalla Yarl didn’t even know her name.

The land became rockier as it elevated. Serien knew there weren’t mountains in the North, not like the South, but some of the bluffs were beginning to grow to an impressive scale. That night they had the fortune of caves and caverns to hide within. It was the first time the soldiers could relax and most capitalized on the opportunity.

Serien huddled in a nook in the rock face, protected on all sides. She rested her elbows on her knees and stared listlessly into the sunset haze. They were already a week into the march. Another two weeks and they should make it to Soricium. She gripped her arms tightly.
She’d see Aldrik then
. Considering the alternative would be too much for even Serien to bear.

Given the fact that it was the first opportunity at privacy, she shouldn’t have been surprised when a messenger tracked her down not long after sunset, leading her around the corners of boulders and into a small cave. He left quickly after.

“You wanted to see me, my lord?” she said, giving a formal salute—the salute of a soldier and not of the Black Legion.

“Yes.” The Emperor stood, placing his hands behind his back. “I suppose you want thanks for your act of heroism.”

She pursed her lips, waiting for him to get to the point. Waiting for him to arrive at the reason why he waited for days after that battle, why he waited for privacy.

“It’s not every day a commoner has the opportunity to save the life of the Emperor.” He walked to the opposite side of his small campfire. With the way the light illuminated his face she could almost see Aldrik’s brow in his.

“It was my honor.” He was going to make her play the game.

“Indeed,” the Emperor agreed. “It was because you are
mine
. Your freedom, your life, your future rest in my hands, Vhalla Yarl.”

The use of her name shredded through Serien, and it sapped the strength of her alter ego.

The Emperor didn’t miss the wavering in her eyes. “I want you to be very clear on why you are here.”

“I know why.”

“Why?” he pressed.

“To win you your war.” She didn’t even bother with the nonsense of atoning for her crimes. Serien—Vhalla—wondered if he had decided her fate the moment he laid eyes on the whirlwind.

“Yes, very good.” He began walking once more. “They said you were smart.”

There was a predatory glint to his eyes that had Serien’s hands balling into fists.

“Do you know who ‘they’ are?” the Emperor asked.

“Who?” She tried to stand to her fullest height so that he had less of a distance from which to look down at her.

“My eldest son.” The gauntlet was thrown.

Serien’s blood boiled.
That’s what this was about
. “He is very smart, my lord.”

“Usually,” the Emperor murmured as he inspected her from head to toe. She already knew she wouldn’t measure up. “Speaking of him, our two groups will merge again after the pass, during the final leg of the trip.”

Serien struggled to keep her face neutral; she was sure she failed. The Emperor continued to stare her down. “Is that why you called me here, my lord? To tell me that?”

The Emperor chuckled in amusement at her bold front. “No, I simply wanted to thank you for your attentiveness. It is good to know that when you focus on your duty that you are, indeed, not useless.”

“Thank you.” She took a step away, feigning the dismissal that wasn’t in his voice.

“Oh, and Miss Yarl.” She paused. “I recommend you keep that focus where it should be, on making it to the front and giving me my victory. I will not tolerate your entertaining girlish fantasies or misplaced notions.”

Serien clenched her hands into fists so tightly that the straps on her gauntlets threatened to break. She grit her teeth and set her jaw. She heard his threats loud and clear.

“Do you understand me?” The Emperor’s voice was deathly quiet.

“Perfectly.”

The conversation lingered with Serien as she stormed through camp back to her hideaway. It played on repeat through her mind as she struggled to find a position comfortable enough to sleep in. And, when she did fall asleep, the Emperor greeted her in her dreams...

The Emperor sat next to her.
No, not her
. Vhalla pulled herself away from Aldrik’s dream form. His face was hard, and fire lit his eyes. She followed the line of his attention and saw herself, part ethereal and part concrete, in an all too familiar cage. She was huddled and shaking, blood dripping from the back of her head along her jaw and onto the floor. The strength that sparked in her brown eyes was a shadow play, it lacked true substance behind it. That much was apparent, not only to her, but to the man whose memory she was occupying.

His hand balled so tightly into a fist that the skin had gone ghostly from lack of blood. It was impossible for Vhalla to have seen from across the courtroom during the original trial but his jaw was clenched to the extent that his face shook and trembled. The Emperor was speaking, but to Aldrik’s ears the words were blurred over the rush of hot anger in his head.

Aldrik’s emotions radiated clearly, unfiltered through the Joining-induced memory, as he left the courtroom. He couldn’t look at her. If he looked at her he would break. If he looked at her they would all know his worry on her behalf.

The moment the doors to Imperial quarters closed behind him and his family, Aldrik increased his strides, doubling the distance between him and his father. Vhalla could feel his magic trembling and pulsing with an undeniable need—
a need to get to her
.

“Aldrik,” the Emperor called.

He froze, turning. His face was expressionless, but she could feel the tornado of emotion ripping through his chest. The sight of his father filled him with panic.

“I need you in the war council; the North is getting too bold, and we will need to counter this aggression with force.”

“I will be there shortly,” Aldrik replied stiffly.

“You will come now.” The Emperor’s tone was casual enough, but something dangerous shone through his eyes.

She could feel Aldrik gather his courage, a strange thing she never thought the man known as the Fire Lord would need to do. “Clearly the guard’s definition of care is lacking,” Aldrik’s voice dripped venom. “I plan to educate them.”

“That is not your concern.” The Emperor waved the notion away, starting down a different hall.

“It is.” Desperation flooded Aldrik’s chest and overflowed into hers. “I told you, she can win you your war. I am merely protecting our interests.”

“Which is why I didn’t have the monster killed before she saw the light of day again.” The Emperor paused, glancing at his son. “The
Empire’s
interests, Aldrik?”

“Always for the greater good of our Empire.” The words were rehearsed. They’d been said so many times they spewed from Aldrik’s mouth without thought, completely void of emotion. They were so hollow that Vhalla could sense the dam that trembled in the prince, holding back a plea of,
let me go to her
. “You do not want her to die, Father. I told you, I can train her, mold her—”

“Right, right.” The Emperor turned to Baldair, who Vhalla had almost completely forgotten was there. “Baldair, fetch a cleric to tend to Aldrik’s pet.”

“Father...” Baldair frowned.

“Thank you.” The Emperor completely ignored the disapproving tones in his younger son’s voice.

Aldrik continued to stand silently as the Emperor walked away. Vhalla felt his resignation. She knew his acceptance of a deeper truth that, despite all his wants, he couldn’t go to the woman he wished to be nearest to.

“Baldair,” Aldrik whispered once the Emperor was just far enough away.

“What do you want?” Vhalla felt a twinge of disappointment in Aldrik toward the disgust that laced Baldair’s words.

“Go to her yourself,” Aldrik demanded.

“What?”

“Go to her yourself, damn it,” Aldrik hissed. “You owe me.”

“I don’t owe you anything.” Baldair crossed his arms on his chest.

“What happened to being the noble knight who proclaims protection of the weak and innocent?” Aldrik sneered. Vhalla felt his satisfaction when he saw Baldair’s expression change. The prince knew just what words to say to goad his brother in the direction he wanted. “You owe me for the last six Elixirs of the Moon I pilfered from the clerics without their noticing. Unless you’d like me to reconsider
that
arrangement.”

“Fine, but not for you,” Baldair huffed. “For the girl.”

“Fine.” Aldrik strode off, satisfied for the moment. His father was a few steps ahead and seemingly oblivious to the muffled exchange. Aldrik clenched and unclenched his fists.

He damned everything he ever loved. How could he have even thought being near her could end well? How could he have let himself blur the lines with the girl so far?

The questions radiated through Aldrik’s mind and into Vhalla’s consciousness as he stormed through the hall. A chair burst into flame by him, an outburst of emotion that couldn’t be tamed. Aldrik scowled at it and extinguished the fire.

Vhalla woke shivering in the North with thoughts, pilfered from Aldrik’s dream consciousness.
He had to get control. He couldn’t let them see. He couldn’t let them know what she was.

T
HE SOLDIER SAID
that “the pass” previously was the greatest river in the world. But it had long since dried up. It was hard for Serien to believe that the deep, rocky ravine could’ve ever held water.

But somewhere across the chasm was Aldrik. The Emperor may have wanted to threaten her into submission, but all he did was give her a point in time to wait for. Another day, maybe two, and they would be across the pass; she would be with him once more. She would be careful, but she would tell him of his father’s threats, and somehow they would overcome them.

Serien looked at the Emperor from the corners of her eyes. He wouldn’t get in their way, no matter how long and hard he tried. He couldn’t fathom what his son felt for her and what she felt for him. But someday he would see.

It was halfway through the day when she first heard steel on steel and the sounds of combat echoing through the winds of the pass. Serien shivered, suddenly cold despite the jungle’s heat.

Aldrik
.

She wanted to run, to sprint, her heart beginning to race with a wild beat. He needed her. He did. She just knew it. Vhalla could feel it through the Bond.

Neither Vhalla nor Serien were prepared for the moment the troops rounded a curve in the pass. Fire burned the treetops as soldiers engaged on the opposite side of the pass. It was an all-out assault, and she was uselessly far. Vhalla searched frantically to try to find Aldrik among the chaos.

The North, however, was taking no chances with what side their query would approach from, and the Imperial soldier’s shock was the ideal opportunity for a second surprise attack. Men and women, warriors in boiled leather, charged from the brush before them.