“Are you both up yet?” Jax called through the door. “Let me know if you’re naked so I can come in.”
“Jax.” Elecia’s voice was sharp as the daggers her eyes likely were throwing him. “Do not make me think anything of the sort about my cousin, please.”
“We all know what happened. It’s not like they were quiet,” Jax shot back.
Elecia began singing a Western song, loudly, over her companion’s words.
“What did we do, forcing those two together?” Vhalla laughed as she sat up. She didn’t feel the least bit guilty for her passions; there wasn’t even a ghost of a blush on her cheeks.
“Elecia could survive loosening up a bit.” Aldrik stood.
Now, there was a sight that would put color on her face.
Jax began rambling, “Oh my liege, the day has begun, let us start the fun, the time of the sun, has indeed come, so won’t you please—”
“Oh, Mother, don’t talk in rhymes,” Aldrik groaned through the door. “It’s the only thing worse than your sense of humor. We’ll be down in a moment.”
Their illusion of peace dissipated like the morning’s fog over a field. Soon enough, clothes were back on their rightful frames and cloaks were thrown over their shoulders. Vhalla considered Aldrik as they walked down the stairs to join the group. The Emperor was going to be in her home.
“You lot are up early,” Geral observed, a steaming cup of wheat tea between his hands.
Vhalla returned the keys with a smile. “So are you.”
“True enough.” The man paused, his expression sobering. “Dodging the Inquisitors?”
“Inquisitors?” She looked to her comrades to see if they knew of what Geral spoke, but the group looked just as confused as Vhalla.
“I thought you would’ve heard . . .”
“There’s been a lot to hear,” Vhalla encouraged delicately.
“It’s all the Supreme King’s doing,” Geral began.
“Do you support the regime change?” They should’ve found that information before staying under the man’s roof.
“Do I look like a man who would support senseless violence?”
“You don’t.” Vhalla gave a breath of relief. “So, what is the Supreme King doing with Inquisitors?”
“They are sweeping the continent, but their presence has been especially felt here in the East. They have a way to use crystals to see if someone has the powers of a Windwalker.”
Vhalla was instantly reminded of Victor’s ledger. He knew there would be more. Not many, but they would be out there. A Windwalker could be the only possible opposition to his powers. The information was as useful as it was terrifying for the people who were confirmed to have the ability.
Geral continued, “A group of strange travelers, like yourselves, may want to know information like that.”
“Thank you,” Vhalla said sincerely, raising her hood to leave.
“I think it’s funny,” Geral added. “I only ever heard of one Windwalker in all my years. The first one to leave the East’s nest and fly. That was the girl named Vhalla Yarl.” He rested his elbows on the table leaning forward. “Though, I suppose she wouldn’t be a girl any longer. You know, she would stay with her parents at my inn during the Festival of the Sun. And when I heard the tales of all that was happening to her—the good, the bad—I cheered for her alongside the rest of the East.”
Vhalla’s hand went up to her shoulder, gripping it just above the scar.
“She’s the pride of the East. A beacon of a new future where people may start seeing Cyven as more than just some pastures and crops between North and South.” Geral sipped his cup once more. “What happened to her was a crime. But, then again, I hear she had a good record of dodging death itself. The truth could be right under our noses.”
“Things have a strange way of working out.” Vhalla’s words were laden with shock.
“They do indeed.” The man shifted his hands and turned the mug; upon it was the blazing sun of Solaris. “Now go, before the Inquisitor begins his rounds through the town.”
Vhalla took one last look at Geral before the door closed behind them. His warm words had restored her—and terrified her. These were her people, and they stood behind her. She had betrayed them, and now she had to do whatever was necessary to save them.
“How much did we pay him?” Elecia broke the silence as they were checking their saddlebags.
“Three silver,” Aldrik answered.
Elecia and Fritz shared a look. “Fritz and I went down when you two were being slow. The man said we had given too much on accident.” She held out her hand to Aldrik, three shining coins in its center.
He had returned the money.