“Right.” The eldest Charem finally was pulled out of her trance. As subtly as they could, they retreated away from the crowd.

“Jon, Jon, what madness are you speaking?” The woman stuttered her words with grief and disbelief.

“Kneel before me, so that he may witness your loyalty to this new world order,” the man continued as though he did not hear the woman.

They were halfway back to their horses, but in the silent town, each word was clear across the snow.

“Jon, please, speak to me as you always did. You-you loved, you were so proud to serve the Imperial family,” the woman pleaded.

Vhalla clenched her hands into fists instinctually, even though there was no longer magic to Channel. Grief was clouding that person’s judgment, and Vhalla was hopeless to help.

“Kneel, woman. Let your King Anzbel see your loyalty.”

“What’s going on?” Reona asked.

“Get on your horse,” Cass snapped at her sister.

Luckily, the girl was old enough and Cass was firm enough that she did not question. Vhalla swung her leg over Lightning. She noticed that sitting on the horses they were tall enough to see the scene off in the distance. Reona’s eyes were already fixed.

There was another scream, then chaos broke loose in the crowd behind them.

“All who do not kneel for the Supreme King Anzbel will die!” the man shouted.

They used the commotion to their advantage and spurred their horses into the woods. Vhalla turned in her saddle, picking up the rear behind the Charems. There was a commotion, shouting, crying, screaming, a flash, and the sizzle of magic. The town’s resistance was brief. Just before all were out of her vision, she saw the still living kneel in the blood of their fallen friends and family.

“What was that, what was that, what was that?” Reona was shaking her head. She had heard and seen enough.

“Hush, Reona!” Cass’s voice was breaking.

“We will be fine,” Vhalla assured the girls. Two sets of blue eyes looked back at her as they raced through the wood. “There was only one. If he catches up with us, Jax, Aldrik, Elecia, and Fritz will protect us.”

Vhalla gripped her reins. If she had her powers, that guard—the magically reanimated monster of Victor’s—would be dead . . . again. But all she could do was run, run and keep the two girls with her as safe as possible by getting them away. She could no longer fight with her magic and had no weapons. She’d been reduced to using the only tool she’d ever had at her disposal: her mind.

Vhalla looked behind them at the deep tracks in the snow. Despite the cold, sweat ran down her forehead. If she had her powers, she could cover those betraying dips in the white world. Cursing aloud, she snapped the leather in her death-grip, her heels digging into Lightning. Anyone would be able to see the path leading right to the Charem home.

“We need to split up!” Vhalla pulled hard on her reins. “Loop around in circles.”

“What?” Reona was shaking, and Vhalla doubted it was from cold.

“Make a bunch of circles, loop back, and then we’ll meet back up again in a bit. Stay in earshot,” Vhalla ordered.

Cass picked up on what Vhalla was attempting, likely she was one of the hunters of the family, and followed Vhalla’s orders. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but the abomination didn’t seem too intelligent, and it was better than nothing. They rode apart for a stretch, coming back together just as the Charem home came into view.

Orel was out chopping wood. Tama and the two Northern women were tending to something in the livestock pens. The horses were a fury of thunder that shattered the relative peace.

Vhalla met a set of emerald eyes. Sehra studied her face as if she was able to replay the horrors Vhalla witnessed from her expression alone.

“Daddy!” Reona launched off her horse, stumbled, rolled in the snow, found her feet, and ran to her father. Orel was confused, but wasted no time scooping his crying daughter into his large arms. “Daddy, daddy, daddy!”

The commotion drew the men from within the home, and a pair of dark eyes met hers. Vhalla looked at Aldrik, and her chest tightened. He knew instantly something was amiss.

Vhalla and Cass dismounted, and the older girl stumbled in the snow. Cass went instantly to her mother, saying nothing. Tama stared at her shaken daughter and took her child into her arms without question.

“What happened? Reona, sweetling, what happened?” Orel tried to console his hysterical daughter.

Vhalla stood in the snow, at a loss as to who she should turn to. Her arms hung limply at her sides as the information continued to sink into her. Aldrik’s gaze was upon her, his boot crunched the snow. Vhalla raised her gold-flecked eyes to meet obsidian.

“Vhalla,” he asked, he demanded.

She swallowed. Someone had to do it. One of them had to say it, and she was not about to make the girls who had accompanied her perform that duty. They were just girls, as she had once been. But her innocence had long since been lost. It was a fate she would not force, nor push, upon the Charem daughters. Vhalla’s shoulder ached all the way to her chest.

“Aldrik.” She did not care for the lack of his title before anyone anymore. Vhalla spoke only to him. “It’s Victor.”

He took another step toward her. Vhalla braced herself. She would find the words. Strength, she had to find the strength first. Her will would replace her magic; it would be just as strong as her winds ever were.