SURPRISINGLY, VHALLA SLEPT fairly well. Extreme exhaustion did wonders for sleeping through the night, no matter the conditions. Sitting up, Vhalla’s head throbbed and she rubbed the stiffness from her joints.
She used one of the damp cloths the prince had left to freshen her face, even if it made it no cleaner. Vhalla glanced at her doorway and saw the shoulder of a man standing there. Likely Mole. She laid back down and closed her eyes, not wanting to alert them that she had woken. Another set of footsteps strolled down the hall.
“You got assigned here too?” It wasn’t Mole’s voice.
“Like he’d separate us.” It wasn’t Rat. “Crazy story, isn’t it?”
Vhalla sat up, confused.
“Who’s there?” she asked, and two new faces stared at her.
“I’m Craig,” said a Southerner who appeared about Aldrik’s age.
“Daniel.” An Easterner. Something about his relaxed and youthful eyes made Vhalla feel marginally easier.
“What happened to Mo—the other guards?” she asked.
The two exchanged a look. “Last night, the crown prince found them stealing from the bond coffers. He put them to death on the spot.” Craig made a shivering motion. Vhalla’s eyes widened as her jaw dropped. “It’s a little crazy. I knew he had a temper, but it takes a special rage to kill two of your own men standing in their boots.”
“Keep your voice down,” Daniel hissed. “Last thing you want is his wrath on us.”
Vhalla stared in a stunned silence. Rat and Mole, Aldrik had killed them. She remembered the face of the Northerner melting off, but found her stomach strangely calm.
When her stomach finally churned it was not over the idea of their deaths but the likely reasoning behind it. Regardless of what people believed about him, Aldrik would not kill without cause; Vhalla wouldn’t believe anything else about him. There was only one reason she could think of.
“Did you really make that wind storm?” Daniel asked, drawing her from her reeling thoughts.
“I-I’m not sure,” she replied, uncertain of the look on his face.
“It was huge!” Daniel’s eyes grew large. She felt uneasy; was he friend or foe?
“You are not supposed to sound excited.” Craig thumped his partner’s head with a fist.
“If she did, that’d make her a Windwalker. You don’t understand what that means.” Daniel rubbed the crown of his head with a grin.
Vhalla moved a little closer to the bars.
“You read too many books.” Craig rolled his eyes.
“And you don’t read any books at all!” Daniel laughed. “You know about Windwalkers?” Vhalla asked timidly.
“Not until recently,” Daniel confessed, turning back to her.
“Not until last night you mean.” Craig shook his head. “He gets assigned here and tries to become an expert on magic overnight.”
“At least I’ve an interest.” Daniel shrugged.
Vhalla stared at them uncertainly. The door at the end of the hallway opened, and her mind was instantly racing with panic at the footsteps. Both guards snapped to attention.
“Senator,” Daniel saluted. Craig stayed silent but mirrored Daniel’s motions. Vhalla glared at Egmun. She could feel every last bruise as his eyes took a leisurely assessment of her body.
“Where are her assigned guards?” Egmun asked.
“We are her assigned guards, sir.” Both Craig and Daniel held their salutes.
Egmun rubbed his temples with a sigh. “I realize that their standards for guards are astoundingly low, but I would have hoped you could read your assignments.”
The two men exchanged a look. “This is our assignment, sir,” Daniel said with confidence.
Vhalla’s mouth curled into a smirk at the confused and enraged expression crossing Egmun’s face.
“Where are Salvis and Wer?” the Senator demanded. Vhalla tried to guess who Mole was.
“They’re dead, sir,” Daniel answered.
Egmun lost his composure to his surprise for a brief second, and Vhalla wanted to cackle.
“Dead?” he repeated.
“Parrot,” Vhalla mumbled under her breath.
“How?” Egmun’s teeth were grinding.
“They were found stealing from the bond payment chest,” Craig jumped in. “Imperial Justice.”
Egmun paused and laughed.
“It would be, wouldn’t it?” His eyes fell on Vhalla and she was happy to have the bars keeping him out. “It would be...” He chuckled and turned. “Her trial starts soon. Make sure she’s on time.” Egmun clicked away down the hall, his emerald robes swishing about him.
Vhalla let out her breath.
“He seems about as pleasant as a rabid weasel in a bag of vipers,” Craig noted dully.
“Craig!” Daniel hissed, but didn’t argue.
With that remark these guards became acceptable. She remembered Prince Baldair mentioning something about the previous guards being Egmun’s men. If that was true, whose men were these? What luck was looking out for her? Vhalla struggled to her feet.
Daniel fumbled with the keys, opening the door. She looked at them expectantly.
“I think you’re supposed to cuff me.” Vhalla held out her wrists, hoping they wrote off the abuse that painted her arms as having been caused by the Northerners.
“Are we?” Daniel asked uncertainly.
“I-I think so?” Craig ran off to grab some shackles hanging on the wall. They were only over her wrists this time.
“It seems rather pointless,” Daniel mused as they started down the hallway. “You’re a sorcerer, right? What’s cuffing you supposed to do?”
“Daniel!” Craig groaned, “Let’s not give the person standing on trial for treason any ideas?”
Vhalla shifted her hands; he had a point. She dared an attempt at her magic. Tears of relief escaped when she felt a weak little flicker around her fingertips. Knowing it was returning reduced her resentment for it not being available to help against Rat and Mole.
Daniel went to grab her arm.
“No!” she frantically jerked away, taking an instantly defensive stance. He jumped back, startled. “I mean, I won’t run. Please, let me go on my own.”
The walk to the courtroom was slow, due to her mad determination to do it without their help. In her mind she shifted it from an issue of paranoia over them potentially harming her to an issue of pride. She wanted to show Egmun that she could walk in there on her own two feet.
They opened the door, and she appeared to be early. The thrones stood empty and only about half the senators had arrived. They looked at her with a whole spectrum of emotions, from horror and anger, to fascination and skepticism. Vhalla walked up to the edge of her cage, standing as tall as she could manage.
As the room began to fill with people, it also began to fill with light. A large, circular, overhead window let in the morning sun. On occasion, the senators walked in with other people whom they sat with at the benches by the door before taking their own seats. Vhalla tried to see if she recognized anyone. It wasn’t until Minister Victor took a seat that she felt a glimmer of hope. He caught her eyes and nodded his head by a fraction.
When the last senator had settled into their seats, the doors to the courtroom were opened and the three male royals strode in. They each wore a white jacket, the Emperor and youngest prince donned in light blue trousers, whereas Aldrik wore black. Clearly, compromises had been made.
Upon the Emperor’s brow sat the flaming crown of the sun, each of its points a spear of golden light rising toward the heavens. Vhalla wondered how it would look on Aldrik. It led to the reminder that if she made it through the trial, she would someday find out. Something deep within her, under the broken and jagged pieces of who she now was, ached at the thought.
“Let this high court be called to order. On trial is Vhalla Yarl for the crimes of recklessness, endangerment, heresy, public destruction, murder, and treason. The prisoner has made a cry of not guilty. We will now hear those who will speak on behalf of the Senate and the prisoner. Let their testimonies be true or may the Mother strike them down with her divine justice.” The Emperor settled back into his chair. The princes sat as well, sparking the rest of the room to sit with them.
Vhalla’s shoulders ached from holding up her shackles, and she decided to sit also. She looked across the room at Aldrik. He wore an emotionless expression today, much like the day before. He didn’t look like a man who had created wanton destruction between official duties. He didn’t look like a man who had killed two guards the night before. He looked almost bored.
He briefly flicked his eyes over to her, but he looked away equally as fast, his mouth pressing into a thin line. Vhalla swallowed. Was he angry with her?
Egmun called the first witness to the stand. It was a Southern woman who had a very average build and plain looks about her. Vhalla tried to determine if she had ever seen this woman before, but she didn’t recall.
“Thank you for coming today,” Egmun started, “I realize this will likely be a great trauma for you to recall, but I will need to ask you questions about what happened two nights ago.” The woman looked uncertainly at the powerful people surrounding her. “Do not be frightened, you are not on trial. Tell the truth before your Emperor and the Mother above, that is all we ask.” The woman nodded. “Tell us, what did you see that night?”
“Uh, well, my, Emperor, princes, lords and ladies.” The woman gave a small curtsey. “As ye know, first there was the explosion and I be tryin to run. Seemed like everyun in the city was tryin to get away.” Vhalla’s heart began to beat faster, remembering her frantic sprint through the masses. “I noticing the prince was runnin.”
“You noticed the prince in the crowd?” Egmun asked.
“I was in such a hurry I dun bow or nothing.” She gave a small curtsey to Aldrik. “No offense, milord.”
“I’m sure the prince took none.”
Vhalla felt offended on Aldrik’s behalf that Egmun would presume to speak for him. If Aldrik was bothered by Egmun’s words, his face betrayed nothing.
“You’re sure it was the prince?” Egmun asked.
The woman nodded quickly. “I noticing because he was running toward the fire, not away. And he was all in black, as he oft is, in fine things, so I knew it was the prince.”
Aldrik shifted in his seat, and Vhalla instantly noticed the movement after he’d been so still. He rested his cheek on his fist and reclined back in his chair, his knees spreading open slightly.
“Senator,” Aldrik drawled, “I already said I was there. As amusing as it is to hear my story repeated through a commoner, it hardly seems a relevant way to spend our time.”
Some of the other senators chuckled uneasily. Egmun only had a cool smile on his face.
“My prince, I was merely attempting to establish that the woman was indeed there and thus her testimony is trustworthy,” Egmun explained. Continuing his line of questioning, he turned to the witness. “Good lady, when you saw the prince, was he alone?” The woman shook her head. “Who was he with?”
“He was followin’ her.” The woman slowly raised a finger in Vhalla’s direction.
“See, my fellow senators. I called this witness to account for the malicious intent and the heresy of the prisoner.” Egmun turned to her and Vhalla frowned. “Why else would a prince be following a plain girl of common birth into the center of danger? Why else would she lead him there if not to kill him?” He looked at the Emperor and senators, raising his hands dramatically.
“Because she had bewitched him with her magic; she placed our prince into a trance that even he did not realize and she brought him into her den to strike him down. For all we know, she plotted with the Northerners.” Vhalla clenched the bars tightly; ignoring the pain the tension in her muscles caused her shoulder. “A magic that bewitches men and steals free will alone should be a crime punishable by death. There is no other—”
“I did no such thing!” Vhalla cried.
“The prisoner will keep quiet!” the Emperor bellowed, slamming his staff down with a large clang.
Vhalla shrunk back and dropped her head.
Egmun could take anything people said and turn it into whatever he wanted. He had the Senate eating from his palms by the time the witness was done. Vhalla was fairly certain he could claim that she had a second head springing from her naval that sucked out people’s souls through their noses, and they gladly believe him. She raised her head half an inch to look at Aldrik through the curtain of her hair.
He’d yawn from time to time and made a show of looking bored with all the proceedings. She wondered if it was hard for him to sit through. It was insulting to say someone like her could command him in any way, just as it was insulting to imply that she could affect him as a master sorcerer. Then there were the rest of the lies. Vhalla rested her forehead on the bars as Egmun called the second witness.
The second witness was a man, a builder, who was saying that the demolished houses showed signs of wind and not explosion damage. That they may have been standing today otherwise. The third was a woman whose daughter had died in the square, and Egmun made the point that perhaps her daughter had survived the explosion but instead the wind killed her.
“The Minister of Sorcery, Victor Anzbel,” Egmun called.
The minister took the dais. He had a fist on his hip and stood easily. “It’s been a while, Egmun.” Victor grinned.
The senator sneered. “This is hardly a social call, minister. We have serious matters to discuss.” Egmun was stiff.
“I can see that. I very seriously wonder why you locked away one of the most promising apprentices the Tower has ever received like some common criminal.”
Egmun raised his eyebrows.
Vhalla tried to keep the surprise off her face. She was officially an apprentice of the Tower? She glanced to Aldrik. A spark in his eyes directed at Egmun had been lit. He was amused.
“An apprentice of the tower?” Egmun seemed to have the same questions she did. “There are no rec—” He was shuffling through papers on a small desk nearby him when the minister cut him off.
“Of course there aren’t. Nothing had been made public yet. We were waiting until after the festival to announce it. She had friends in the library, and we wanted them to enjoy the celebrations. It seemed rather ill-timed to do it during the festivities,” Victor explained easily.
Vhalla blinked.
“If this all occurred, then where are the documents?” Egmun asked in haste.
“Oh, my apologies, senator.” Victor fussed in his bag and produced an official-looking paper. He walked over and Egmun met him at the bottom of the steps leading to the senatorial seats. “You should find it all in order.”
Egmun glanced over the parchment with a frown.
“This bears the seal of the prince,” Egmun growled.
“It certainly does,” Victor said matter-of-factly. “He is very active in the Tower, as you know.”
Vhalla looked across at Aldrik. He had a small smirk curling up the corners of his mouth. His confidence fit on him like well-tailored clothing.
“And of the Master of Tome...” The paper shook like an autumn leaf in Egmun’s hands.
Vhalla blinked. It had Mohned’s mark?
“Senators, I think you will find all the necessary signatures, mine and Vhalla’s included.”
Her signature was on there? It had been forged, and she had a suspicion she knew by who. The master wouldn’t, even if he knew it was her wishes, and Victor didn’t know her writing.
Aldrik allowed his eyes to meet hers levelly for a moment, and she knew. He was asking for her silence with that dark gaze. She closed her eyes for half a breath and looked back at him, hoping he understood. While she had never told the prince her decision in the end, she had to assume that somehow he knew. Vhalla wondered if Mohned’s signature was a fake too or if the master was also stretching the truth on her behalf.
“We had actually started working with her; it would have been irresponsible of us not to. She’s been in the Tower quite a bit since her awakening. She even has a mentor.” He produced another piece of paper, and Vhalla realized Larel was also fighting for her. It was a relief to see that Egmun wasn’t the only one who could paint pictures with words.
“If she was in such control by the Tower, then what happened the Night of Fire and Wind?” Egmun said roughly, his annoyance showing.
“Everyone Manifests differently. There hasn’t been a Windwalker in almost one hundred fifty years. We can only operate on the best knowledge we have,” Victor said casually.
“That lax attitude may have gotten innocent people killed,” Egmun sneered.
“I believe the prince was doing his best to keep an eye on our promising apprentice and those around her. We can only make adjustments going forward. But as a point of reference, were there any confirmed deaths from the cyclone?” Victor asked.
Egmun paused.
“Quite the contrary,” an old and sagely voice called from the back of the room. All eyes turned and Vhalla smiled; Mohned had come. “Forgive my tardiness, good ladies and sirs of the Senate, your graces of the Empire.” He walked slowly to the edge of public seating on the left. The master stood at the short fence that blocked off the area from the central testimony dais.
“Only one witness is to speak at a time,” Egmun scolded, glaring at Mohned.
“I would like to hear what he has to say, Head Elect,” an Eastern female senator called.
Mohned turned to the Emperor. “If it would please your highness?” the master asked.
The Emperor looked to the Senate and received motions of approval, so he gave Mohned a nod. Master Mohned crossed through the gate to stand on the dais with Victor. Vhalla looked at him; he was hunched over and looked every year of his age.
“Please explain what you meant,” the female senator asked, taking some control from Egmun.
“I just came from the clerics. Unfortunately, one of my apprentices died in the explosion.”
Sareem, Vhalla breathed his name faintly, his face clouding her vision in an instant. Would she ever have a chance to mourn him? Or would she soon meet him in the Father’s realms beyond?
“But another was with him. The girl’s name is Roan.”
“Is Roan alive, master?” she called frantically.
The Emperor seemed to let the outburst slide, much to Egmun’s annoyance.
The master gave her a nod. “She will heal in time, the clerics say,” the master replied with a nod.
Vhalla didn’t try to hide her tears of joy. “I’m so glad,” she rasped.
“Well, this is just touching, but I fail to see how it is relevant.” Egmun was trying to regain control.
“Roan, my apprentice, was discovered right next to the epicenter of the wind storm,” the master pointed out. “I have been told the storm had such force it ripped apart the attacking Northerners and tore down buildings. If she was right next to it, would she not have been tossed to shreds also?”
A murmuring coursed through the senators. Egmun looked around, his face twisting in rage.
“Now that you mention it,” Baldair joined the conversation with a thoughtful rub of his chin. “None of the bodies were moved, alive or dead. They hardly seemed touched by the wind at all. They still littered the road. I would’ve imagined them blown about.”
The murmuring became louder, and for the first time Vhalla breathed a little easier. Not only because it seemed like Egmun’s control was wavering, but because she realized she hadn’t hurt anyone, save for the Northerners who tried to kill her and Aldrik.
Egmun stomped down the stairs and up onto the dais, clutching the paper Victor had handed him earlier.
“Is this your signature, master?” He shoved the paper in Master Mohned’s face, forcing him to take a step back to try to read it. “Tell me, had it been decided that Vhalla Yarl would join the Tower?” The senator took another aggressive step forward thrusting his fist and the paper at Mohned.
“Let me read it.” Mohned took another step back, and the hem of his robes caught on the small lip that surrounded the inner circle of the sun dais. The master’s old, frail frame began to tumble backwards, and Egmun made no motion to stabilize the older man. Victor was too far away, and Vhalla saw it happen, as if ten seconds slower than everyone else. The master couldn’t correct his balance and, with pin-wheeling arms, he began to tumble backwards.
“Master!” Vhalla cried and thrust her hand out from between the bars, the chain of her shackles clanking loudly. She felt a tingle in her fingertips. Her magic still felt exhausted and barely strung together, but enough had replenished to heed her command.
The master’s fall slowed with a ruffle of his robes, and he was eased onto the floor gently. Mohned turned his head and smiled at her as the rest of the room sat in a stunned silence.
She took a shaky breath as Victor helped Master Mohned carefully back onto his feet.
“Thank you, Vhalla,” he said gently, readjusting his stance.
She had just enough time to breathe a small sigh of relief before chaos descended upon the room.