“I have been sent.” His voice echoed, raspy and hollow, across the silenced crowd. “As a messenger, from your new sovereign.” The crystal glowed ominously as he spoke, everyone stared in horror.
“I fought for the old regime, for the wicked Emperor Solaris, oppressor of power. For my loyalty, I was justly put to death, as were all who stood with the dying sun.” The man’s body did not move as he spoke; it was as rigid as a corpse, save for his jaw. “The family Solaris is dead. The Emperor died a screaming death. He has been flayed, his entrails set out for the birds and his skin used to make our lord’s first banner. His lady wife followed him after. The sons Solaris perished to hand over their succession rights to our lord’s divine right to rule. Their bodies have been quartered and fed to dogs.”
Vhalla’s hands rose to her mouth. Baldair, was her only thought. The idea of Victor disgracing the remains of the golden prince gave her a sickening mental image. An image that she would use as kindling to stoke the malice she held for Victor into a fever heat.
“There will be no quarter given to those who show a love for the fallen sun that is the family Solaris. They are all dead and rotting. Even the Windwalker was put to death for her well-known love of the late crown prince.”
Vhalla blinked. The man spoke of her. Victor proclaimed Aldrik and her dead to the world. He did not know they had managed to escape the caverns and found shelter from the winter. In all his over-confidence, he was so drunk on triumph that he missed their salvation at the hands of Elecia, Jax, and Fritz.
“Love your new lord for he is akin to the Gods, supreme king, our one true master, governor of this world, Victor Anzbel. Those who share a fraction of his power as sorcerers are to be heralded as his chosen ones. They are invited to the capital to swear fealty and live the life of nobility. Those unchosen, Commons, are to learn their new place and prostrate themselves before their magical overseers.” The grotesque animation finished its speech.
Vhalla felt an awful wrenching inside of her. This was the power she had unleashed. This was the fate she had allowed to be brought upon the world.
“We need to go.” Vhalla grabbed Cass’s elbow. The girl stared, gaping at the nightmare. “Now.”
“Right.” The eldest Charem finally was pulled out of her trance. As subtly as they could, they retreated away from the crowd.
“Jon, Jon, what madness are you speaking?” The woman stuttered her words with grief and disbelief.
“Kneel before me, so that he may witness your loyalty to this new world order,” the man continued as though he did not hear the woman.
They were halfway back to their horses, but in the silent town, each word was clear across the snow.
“Jon, please, speak to me as you always did. You-you loved, you were so proud to serve the Imperial family,” the woman pleaded.
Vhalla clenched her hands into fists instinctually, even though there was no longer magic to Channel. Grief was clouding that person’s judgment, and Vhalla was hopeless to help.
“Kneel, woman. Let your King Anzbel see your loyalty.”
“What’s going on?” Reona asked.
“Get on your horse,” Cass snapped at her sister.
Luckily, the girl was old enough and Cass was firm enough that she did not question. Vhalla swung her leg over Lightning. She noticed that sitting on the horses they were tall enough to see the scene off in the distance. Reona’s eyes were already fixed.
There was another scream, then chaos broke loose in the crowd behind them.
“All who do not kneel for the Supreme King Anzbel will die!” the man shouted.
They used the commotion to their advantage and spurred their horses into the woods. Vhalla turned in her saddle, picking up the rear behind the Charems. There was a commotion, shouting, crying, screaming, a flash, and the sizzle of magic. The town’s resistance was brief. Just before all were out of her vision, she saw the still living kneel in the blood of their fallen friends and family.
“What was that, what was that, what was that?” Reona was shaking her head. She had heard and seen enough.
“Hush, Reona!” Cass’s voice was breaking.
“We will be fine,” Vhalla assured the girls. Two sets of blue eyes looked back at her as they raced through the wood. “There was only one. If he catches up with us, Jax, Aldrik, Elecia, and Fritz will protect us.”
Vhalla gripped her reins. If she had her powers, that guard—the magically reanimated monster of Victor’s—would be dead . . . again. But all she could do was run, run and keep the two girls with her as safe as possible by getting them away. She could no longer fight with her magic and had no weapons. She’d been reduced to using the only tool she’d ever had at her disposal: her mind.