to make room for one more. Vhalla’s hands fell to her sides, and the winds quieted.
“Gwaeru,” the Northern woman called.
Vhalla stared at Za blankly. She wasn’t sure what emotion she should summon for the woman who was plotting treason.
“I prefer Lady Yarl, actually,” she corrected loudly. Vhalla hardly cared for the use of titles, but she didn’t want to give the woman the power of taking her name from her—of reducing Vhalla once more to nothing more than the Emperor’s Windwalker.
“Lady Yarl,” the woman smiled, which quickly turned into a sneer. “I want shoot.”
“We are practicing shooting in the wind tonight,” Vhalla announced.
“Fine.” The woman fixed her armguard to her left wrist, adjusting a large wooden bow in her hand.
Without another word Za reached for an arrow in the quiver at her side. Vhalla raised her hands. A strong wind blew across the range. All arrows were knocked off course—all except for one. Vhalla met the eyes of the Northern archer, a frown tugging at her lips.
The next arrow hit. The wind blew harder. The third almost missed. Vhalla shifted the direction of the breeze. The fourth was knocked off course. She fought a smirk and looked back to the woman. It had begun.
Four quivers in, Vhalla was almost breathless, as was the other woman. The ground looked like a porcupine made of arrows, illuminated by the high moon.
“That’s enough,” Za announced, throwing her bow over her shoulder.
Vhalla shrugged, wiping her brow. She looked for Fritz and Grahm, but it appeared that they had already departed without her. In fact, almost no one was around. Time seemed to have escaped her.
“Gwaeru.” Za’s voice was close, and Vhalla turned, unsurprised to find the woman a few short steps away. The bow was still in her hand, armguard still on, quiver mostly full. Vhalla eyed them uneasily, keeping the wind under her palms.
“I said my name was Lady Yarl.”
Za ignored Vhalla’s correction. “Sehra wish to give you chance.”
Vhalla scowled. “I don’t want to be involved with either of you.”
“And I don’t want you,” Za hissed. “But you keep with Achel. You and Fire Lord.”
Vhalla stilled, bringing her eyes to Za’s emerald ones.
“Sehra know, she know he now touch Achel, too.”
A quiet horror crept through her, whispering her worst fears. Vhalla’s lips were quiet, but her mind was loud. The taint creeping through her bond with Aldrik must have progressed farther if Sehra could pick it up. Or maybe it was just consistent, but no worse?
Vhalla knew she had to find him. She hadn’t sought him out once in the weeks since their meeting in his garden. But now she’d haunt the library for a certain sorcerer prince.
“Give us Achel.”
“No.” Vhalla frowned. She was so close to getting rid of it for good.
“Prince already half monster. If he become whole monster, I will shoot to kill.”
Vhalla’s arm snapped out, gripping Za’s bow before the woman had time to pull it away. Za tugged but Vhalla held fast. The Northerner’s gaze met hers, and Vhalla narrowed her eyes threateningly.
“If you as much as think of touching him, I will kill you myself,” Vhalla growled.
“Sehra has new deal.” Za smiled maliciously, knowing what she was about to do would drive Vhalla mad. “But she tell her future husband, no more deals with Gwaeru.”
Vhalla shoved the bow back into Za’s hand in frustration. The woman grinned and took a few steps backward before starting for the palace. This was a bigger game than Vhalla and Aldrik. They all knew it. But her love for the prince was being made into an easy pawn.
She stilled.
Her love for the prince.
For the first time in months, Vhalla had admitted it to herself. She gripped her watch tightly. There it was, the truth. Now, what to do with it?
Vhalla found herself looking for Aldrik’s light on her way up the Tower. She looked for the tiny, flickering mote that stood against the darkness. And didn’t find it.
HE RAN THROUGH the halls with a blond-haired toddler on his heels. His excitement for the small bundle he held in his hands was palpable. Aldrik couldn’t be more than seven or eight. He had a goofy smile, and his hair was cut straight across the middle of his neck.
“Do you think she’ll like it?” Aldrik asked the boy. Vhalla looked at the little Baldair struggling to keep up with his brother’s longer strides.
“Yes!” he said with all the black and white certainty of a child. Baldair carried a little parcel himself.