“You presume too much.” The Chieftain tilted her head back only so that she had further to stare down at the Westerner. “All are southern to Soricium.”

“Will you give us the axe?” the Western man asked, shifting the conversation back to its original topic.

“The axe. Tell me, what do you want with Achel?”

“That is inconsequential.” The man folded his arms over his chest.

“The Emperor brought war because we refused him Achel. But Achel sleeps in its stone tomb, under the eye of the gods. It has slept there since the days of great chaos when light was dark.” The Chieftain fingered the carved archway behind her. “We will not let it be taken by southern hands who have lost the old ways.”

“Are you going back on your offer?” the man asked with a frown.

“Za had no place offering Achel,” the Chieftain said with a sideways look that radiated displeasure.

The archer Vhalla had seen before, Za, averted her eyes in clear shame. Vhalla followed the woman’s emerald stare to what they focused on instinctually. The Imperial camp stretched out below, a long distance to the burnt track that ran around its outer rim. But at the top of that rim was a splotch against the forest.

The same sensation Vhalla’d felt on the night of patrol lingered on the wind. Old Soricium, that’s where the archer was looking. Vhalla had no doubt.

“If Achel is out of the deal, then I will need to contact my allies in camp,” the man threatened to stall further.

“Go ahead, southerner. We would never give Achel to you.” The Chieftain sent the Westerner off in a huff.

Vhalla pulled back from her Projection, blinking her eyes slowly. Aldrik sat at his small table, pinching the bridge of his nose. He seemed more exhausted as spring inched closer.

“Oh, welcome back.” He noticed her as she sat. “You found the Westerner again?”

“I did, but nothing productive in finding out who his informants are or how they communicate.” She’d been trying to uncover it each time, to no avail. Vhalla was beginning to suspect they already had Windwalkers communicating for them.

Aldrik cursed. “Father is beginning to think there aren’t any.”

“There are,” Vhalla insisted, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

“I believe you. He’s just searching for any opportunity to undermine you.” Aldrik stood and stretched.

“Aldrik.” Vhalla ignored the mention of the Emperor. “Crystals—”

“What?” He ceased all movement.

Vhalla knew she would get such a reaction, but she had no idea why. She took a deep breath, bracing herself. “Can crystals be used to make weapons?”

“Did you hear that in the fortress?” Aldrik asked.

Vhalla nodded. “They’re talking about something called Achel, a crystal axe...”

“The world has lost its mind.” Aldrik rolled his eyes, making a valiant attempt to shrug the tension out of his shoulders. “Crystal weapons from the days of early magic, forged by gods and given to the original leaders of each kingdom. It sounds like something the Knights of Jadar would believe could be used to ‘reclaim the West’ or some other equal nonsense. Don’t believe a word of it.”

“Before I left, Victor said—”

“He said what?” Aldrik turned on her, a cautionary glint in his eyes.

“Something about a crystal axe.” Her prince was making her nervous. Vhalla had rarely seen Aldrik so tilted off balance. She remembered exactly what the Minister asked. He wanted her to bring home a crystal weapon with legendary power. But those words remained hidden behind her lips.

“Victor can be a fool, the one thing I wish he hadn’t learned from Egmun, especially so when it comes to things that illustrate what he sees as the great power of sorcerers.” Aldrik ran a hand through his hair. “He spoke of it to my father, and now Father has it in his head to find the thing.”

That was the last person Vhalla wanted to gain any weapon with epic power.

“Why do people want it so badly?” Vhalla stood. “I’ve never heard anything about crystal weapons.”

“They’re whispered rumor, even among sorcerers.” Aldrik paced as he spoke, releasing nervous energy. “Crystals, as you know, can easily taint sorcerers through their magic Channels. Even Commons can be corrupted with enough time and strong enough exposure.”

“Like the War of the Crystal Caverns.” Aldrik stilled as Vhalla elaborated, “Sorcerers were trying to unleash the power locked within the caverns, and it corrupted them, it turned them into monsters, and then those who tried to stop them, until it was barely contain—”

“I know the history!” Aldrik snapped, whirling on her. Vhalla took a step back.

“Do you think me simple?” He scowled.

“Aldrik, why are you so upset?” Vhalla frowned.

“Why must you continue to bring up such things?” he exclaimed.

“Why do they bother you so?” Vhalla stood straighter, matching the prince toe-to-toe.

“I told you, I told you not to probe. It’s bad enough that any night you could dream and invade my memories,” Aldrik spat.

Vhalla deflated. She hadn’t even thought about that for weeks; since their Joining, her dreams would sometimes hold the prince’s memories.