Water's Wrath

“Oh.” He turned quickly, as if remembering she was there. “Because you don’t need to worry so much!” Victor clapped his hands with a smile. “Whatever Aldrik is feeling now should be the worst of what he will feel.”

“Are you sure?” She wasn’t nearly convinced by the minister’s optimistic words.

“You know Aldrik’s and my history.”

“More or less.”

“He’ll act as he needs to avoid taint,” the minister continued, avoiding giving her any more of the aforementioned history. “But this means we can move faster. The Emperor is pressing hard for the axe. I don’t know why the North hasn’t told him yet they don’t have it, but the Emperor will eventually find out it’s gone. I thought we would have to stall until spring, but now—no, we can push, we can move. I’ve found the other pieces. We can end this vicious cycle we’re trapped within.”

“Other pieces? What vicious cycle?” Vhalla tried to remember if she’d ever seen the minister before her; something was alive in him, and he seemed like a different person as a result.

“The oppression of sorcerers.” He ignored her initial question.

“Minister?” she asked, suddenly cautious.

He was at her feet, kneeling before her. “Vhalla, you can remove the possibility once and for all of being used by the crystals. You can set us all free.”

“Right . . .” Vhalla wished she could move the chair away from him. The man before her made her uneasy. He had a glint to his eye that Vhalla recognized. It was the same glint the Emperor had, that the Northern Chieftain had, that Major Schnurr had had. The look that would overcome a reasonable and sane person when presented with power.

She would not be used again.

“How are we going to use the axe to close the caverns?” Vhalla asked as the minister stood.

“I’ll tell you once we get there. For now, let’s get to work.”

Vhalla hid her reservations and did as Victor instructed. She needed to speak with Aldrik. But she didn’t think she could even tell her prince everything since it involved crystals. Day by day, it came more abundantly clear that she was the only one truly fighting for peace. Not a peace anchored in blood and power, but a lasting peace that would benefit the people of the Empire. A peace that would focus on the citizens more than their leaders.

She’d learn Victor’s knowledge. She’d destroy the caverns herself.

At each of their meetings, she worked to learn his greater plan. If Victor suspected she was trying to procure information, he didn’t change his actions. Vhalla continued to cleanse the axe and probe the minister gently.

She didn’t disagree that the faster it all happened, the better they’d be. Vhalla prayed that the minister was everything he said he was. That she could trust him. As the days passed, Vhalla began to believe it more by the lack of any note from Aldrik. Surely, if the prince was ailing from her labors with the axe, he would inform her?

At night, she would go to the training ground and relax with Baldair and the guards. It was a different atmosphere from the Tower, and Vhalla relinquished her concerns in the white puffs of breath she panted in the training pit. She kept it to herself, but she was training for something once more. She didn’t know what she’d find in the caves, and she wanted to make sure her body was ready for it.

Every once in a while, Vhalla would take dinner at Daniel’s home. She used the opportunity to quiz him about swordplay and, more than once, they ended up sparing in the grass around the tree. The bouts were even better practice than at the grounds, and would go until one of the lords or ladies in the surrounding homes complained about the noise. Vhalla’s skill steadily improved.

Winter was upon the world when Vhalla was almost finished with the axe. She knew it would only need one more session, two at most, and she was ready to wash her hands of it. Fear of the caverns had been so constant that she indulged in her curiosity of what her life would be like when they would no longer be a worry.

She went out to the training ground again that evening. In addition to trying to figure out how to destroy the fount of the most fearsome magic the world knew, she was still determined to bridge the gap between the guard and sorcerers; tonight, there would be more than just the Windwalker in the ring.

“Vhal, I didn’t join the guard after the war because I am tired of fighting,” Fritz whined playfully.

“But you’re so good at it with your illusions.” Vhalla threw her arm around his shoulders, ruffling his hair. “And it’ll do the other soldiers good.”

“It’s hard,” Fritz mumbled.

“I think it’s a good idea, also.” Grahm nudged Fritz playfully, shaking away the other man’s pout. Vhalla had actually gone to Grahm first. He and Fritz were hard to find apart these days, and she knew if she got him on board with her idea, Fritz would be sure to follow.

“You would, you’re too hard-working not to.” Fritz’s shoulder brushed against Grahm’s side as they walked, and the Eastern man took Fritz’s hand, the one that wasn’t wrapped around Vhalla’s waist.

They had become so adorable it was blinding.

Erion was behind the main table again. Vhalla headed straight for him. “Erion,” she called as they neared.

His head shot up, and he gave her a tired smile. “Here for the ring?”