Water's Wrath

“I sought an end to that. He was actually involved with the creature,” the Emperor spat.

“You knew that was a risk, my lord, given Aldrik’s history with the women he chooses.”

The axe seemed to pulse with a nervous energy that matched her heartbeat. Vhalla clutched the worn saddlebag tighter.

“My son does not always make the best choices; he has his mother’s heart. It troubles me deeply, as I shall leave this continent to him so that I may continue my expansion,” the Emperor muttered. “Though, since removing the distraction from his attentions, he has improved significantly, putting our Empire before himself. He may just have hope as a ruler yet.”

“The Crescent Continent? Such is still your plan?” Victor asked, somewhat cautiously.

“As long as you are confident we have the girl,” the Emperor retorted.

What? Vhalla was screaming the word in her mind. She didn’t understand. No, she understood it perfectly. She just didn’t want to.

“You want me to guarantee her cooperation?” Victor seemed surprised.

“It hardly matters if it is willingly or not, as long as she plays the role I have scripted for her. It has taken long enough to find a Windwalker, and the axe is the last of the Goddess’s weapons. It must be her, or I cannot turn my campaign across the sea while my army is primed. Without the power in the caverns, we do not stand a chance against their magic.”

“Did you manage to get the axe?” Victor’s voice held a tension to it that wasn’t there before.

“Not yet,” the Emperor seethed. “The Northerners think they will be able to keep it from me. But I will have it, even if I have to squeeze its location out of their princess myself.”

Her nails dug into the saddlebag. Blood, the man wanted blood and more blood. He wanted to feast upon it until he was bloated. Vhalla stared at the flap of the bag. If she killed the Emperor now, she would be put to death. But would it be worth it?

Vhalla never thought that out of everything the Head of Senate had said to her, that his final question would linger—but now she found herself weighing the life she’d fought so hard for against allowing a murderous madman to travel to new places and bring war in his wake.

“I see. Well, you must keep me informed as to your successes, my lord,” Victor hummed.

“I must?” The room seemed to still.

“A figure of speech,” Victor spoke cautiously. “You know I am nothing but your humble servant. Though I do hope you continue to include me in your plans so that I may advise you to the best of my abilities.”

“I hope so, Victor.” The Emperor’s voice could turn water to ice. “Because I had one errant Minister of Sorcery, and I do not care what you know or can do, I will not tolerate a second.”

“You have nothing to fear, my lord.”

The door swung open, propped by Victor, for the Emperor to stride out from the room. She had thought he would head down the Tower, but she had guessed wrong. As his footsteps neared, her heart raced and Vhalla pressed deeper into the door behind her.

A cold dread swept over her, and Vhalla held her breath, wishing she could be invisible and thinking of every frantic excuse. The Emperor passed by, so quickly he blurred before her eyes and didn’t even glance in her direction. Vhalla blinked, her fingers nearly trembling with nerves, as the Emperor’s footsteps faded away and disappeared.

Closing her eyes, she breathed a sigh of relief, only to open them and discover herself face to face with the Minister of Sorcery. Victor stared her down with his cerulean eyes, and Vhalla scowled up at him. How could she have thought he was on her side?

She pushed herself away from the door, to be caught by icy-cold fingers and wrenched back by force. Vhalla raised a hand, prepared to attack.

“I think we have much to discuss.” Victor leveled his eyes with hers, stilling her immediate aggression with a look.

“I have nothing to discuss with you.” Vhalla narrowed her eyes at him.

“You must let me explain.”

“I mustn’t do anything you say, traitor!” she seethed. She shouldn’t have been surprised that he was her enemy, too. They all were her enemies. Vhalla clenched the saddlebag tighter.

“You heard.” Victor looked utterly deflated. He took a deep breath, still holding her in place. “I remember, I remember you don’t do well with force.” The minister slowly relinquished his grip on her. “So let me bargain with you.”

“What could you possibly want to bargain?” He had nothing he could offer.

“Here’s my deal.” The minister glanced down the hall nervously. “Give me a chance to explain, to tell you everything I know and show that I am not your enemy. If I succeed, your trust is my prize. Should I fail, then you should go and hide that bag and tell no one what I suspect are its contents. And I promise to never ask on it or tell a soul.”

“Like I would ever trust you,” she spat, pushing away from the wall and starting down the hall.

“Why do you think I used illusion to make you invisible?”

Vhalla stopped, turning to face him.

“If I wished you ill, don’t you think I would’ve let the Emperor see you? That alcove isn’t small enough to hide you. I saw your robes from my door; he would’ve seen you without trouble were it not for me.”