Vhalla took a step back, shaking her head. That wasn’t who she was.
“No,” she whispered. Someone took a step toward her; all she saw were shadows from her dreams. Shadows she ripped apart by touching. “Don’t come any closer,” she gave a quivering warning. Vhalla brought up her hands to her ears, the screams of the people whom she had murdered filling her consciousness. She realized in horrible clarity what had been haunting her, the blood on her hands that she’d been ignoring.
She felt dizzy. Her legs buckled beneath her, and her body doubled over.
“Vhalla, what’s wrong?” Fritz asked, his voice faint.
“Go,” she panted. They shouldn’t be near her. At the edge of her guilt-shattered conscious she could hear a wind roaring. Vhalla gripped her head tighter. She had meant to kill those Northerners on the Night of Fire and Wind, but she had not known what killing meant.
Two strong hands gripped her wrists and she lashed out, shaking her head and twisting her body. Vhalla attempted to knock the person away with a strong gust, but they didn’t even seem to feel it.
“Vhalla.” Aldrik’s voice was strong and level, cutting through the din of the chaos in her head. “Stop. Breathe,” he instructed, and she forced herself to oblige. His voice rang over the storm raging within her. “Open your eyes.”
Vhalla squinted open one eye, and then the next. Even though it was almost night, the world had a hazy glow to it. Aldrik was surrounded in the golden, almost white, flame that she’d seen him in before. He burned brighter than any of the others assembled. She struggled to shift her vision back to normal, and her eyes fluttered closed.
“Look at me.” Aldrik shook her.
She opened her eyes and focused on his face, slowly regaining control of her magic sight. Her breathing was ragged, and her hands trembled. Concern was written across Aldrik’s furrowed brow.
“Mother save me, I really killed them,” she gasped.
His mouth fell open a moment, but he recovered and relaxed his grip on her wrists. Aldrik stood, helping Vhalla to her feet. When she had her balance, Aldrik finally let go of her and took a step away. “Fritz, take her back to camp,” he ordered briskly.
“Is it a good idea for me to—” Fritz was uncertain.
“Do not try my patience, Charem,” Aldrik growled. He was every inch the Fire Lord.
It was all Fritz needed to spring to life. He scampered over to her and paused. “Can you walk? I mean, do you want help?”
She shook her head. “I can do it.”
Elecia stepped toward Aldrik. Her voice was low, but it was loud enough for Vhalla to hear. “She is not ready. You need to give this up now; there isn’t anything you can do for her.”
“Neiress,” Aldrik barked out Larel’s family name, ignoring Elecia. “I could use a round, if you feel up to it.”
“It would be my honor, my prince.” Larel gave a bow.
Fritz tugged Vhalla’s attention from the scene, pulling her toward the forest that was between them and camp. She glanced back over her shoulder as a fury of flames burst out in the deepening darkness. Elecia stood, leaning against a tree. The flames lit her face, and she ran her thumb across her lips in thought. Vhalla turned forward, relieved the woman wasn’t following them after Aldrik’s dismissal.
Fritz and Vhalla walked in an uneasy silence as the sounds of clanking armor and bursts of flame began to fade and meld into the growing sounds of camp. Vhalla focused on the ground, letting him lead her by the hand. She chewed over her words, trying to find some kind of explanation.
“Vhalla, I’m really, really sorry and-and I don’t know what I did but I didn’t mean to upset you.” Fritz broke the silence like a dam shattering. “I thought it’d be interesting for you to see, and I don’t know if it messed with your magic or something, but I promise I won’t do it again.”
“It’s not your fault.” She shook her head, feeling guilty. “It reminded me of something ... You couldn’t have known. Please, don’t feel bad. It really was amazing.”
“If you want to talk about it,” he offered, returning to her side as they began to walk again.
“No.” She put an end to the notion sharply.
Fritz walked her all the way back to her tent. When she insisted she had no appetite, he went to dinner on the promise that he would set aside a portion for her. Vhalla wasn’t sure if he would be successful, but she was too tired to care. She barely found the energy to pull off her armor before collapsing in the bedroll.
Despite being overwhelmed and at the brink of exhaustion, sleep didn’t come. Vhalla watched shadows from campfires dance on the walls of her tent. She closed her eyes briefly, but every time she did a new horror awaited her. Vhalla wasn’t sure how much time had passed but Larel’s entrance was a relief.
“Welcome back,” she whispered.
“You’re awake?”
“Can’t sleep,” Vhalla explained the obvious.