Water's Wrath (Air Awakens #4)

“I’ll give you one chance.” She shifted her feet, pulling at the ties on her cloak. “Leave and live. Stay and die. Tell this to your comrades, and we will each go on to see all the dawns of our natural lives.”


The men looked at each other and laughed in amusement. “You think that will work, Windwalker?”

“I don’t want to fight you.” It was the first lie she’d told in weeks.

“Then make this even easier for us—submit willingly,” Schnurr demanded. “You were destined to help us return to greatness.”

“Help?” she scoffed.

“Yes, with you we will finally gain access to the caverns.”

“Never.” Vhalla tensed and her fingers curled around the hilt of the axe.

The first of the men moved, sending out a tongue of flame. Vhalla was already two steps ahead. Her feet walked on air, and she moved like an otherworldly entity, flowing from one attack into the next.

The wind pulled the unlaced cloak from her shoulders. Vhalla spun, bringing the axe hard into the man’s face. He didn’t have a chance. The blade cut clean through the man’s skull, as if understanding and multiplying Vhalla’s murderous intent. It offered nearly no resistance, and Vhalla blinked as the man crumpled with only half a head attached to his neck.

“The axe.” Major Schnurr instantly recognized the faintly glowing blade that Vhalla wielded. Where any sane person would look on in horror, the major looked as though he had just been handed the greatest gift of his life.

Something quietly snapped in her at the sight. The thin dam she’d built to hold back her utter loathing for the Knights vanished, and Vhalla thought nothing of thrusting out her hand to grab the nearest man’s mouth. Power roared and howled from within her, the wind screaming to be unleashed. It poured forth in a tempest that was so violent it both startled and scared her.

The Knight’s face exploded under her palm.

With cry of rage, the third Knight was upon her. Vhalla ducked, narrowly dodging his blade. It sliced down along her arm; blood sprang forth, setting a faint beat to echo in her ears. It had been weeks since Vhalla had heard Aldrik’s heartbeat reverberating through their Bond. It was a surge of magic and of overwhelming strength—Vhalla did nothing to hinder it.

The third Knight crumpled like a paper doll, cleaved nearly in half from shoulder to chest by the axe. Vhalla barely had more than a second to relish in the strength flowing through her veins. Adjusting her grip on the axe, she prepared herself for the satisfaction of skinning off Schnurr’s face with it—only to find him gone.

The mad beat in her ears faded into confusion. The coward had run. She stared in shock, paling to horror, as Vhalla realized the depth of her error.

The major had seen the axe and fled with the knowledge.

A Knight now knew that the axe was real and that she possessed it. She had to find the major and kill him before he could tell anyone. Vhalla quickly sheathed the axe, fumbling with the latches as cries began to rise from the street.

Her mind whirred as Vhalla tried to think of Schnurr’s next action. Schnurr wanted her for the Knights; they needed her alive, and subduing her would require more than a small group. Vhalla looked on at the corpses oozing crimson onto the dirt.

He’d need a mob.

Vhalla snatched up her cloak and donned it frantically as she ran. Men and women stumbled from the parlors, blinking in confusion. Her hands were slick with blood, her heart thrumming frantically. If she could find the major, she could stop him before he acted. Before he had time to spin the situation to serve him best.

Vhalla emerged into a dense crowd that was circled around the man she sought. “Down that alley, there!” he shouted while pointing.

Vhalla pressed herself against a wall, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. “The Windwalker—the Empire’s monster—has returned to wage war upon the West!”

The crowd hummed in confusion.

“Look down there and find your brethren lying in pools of their own blood. Faces ripped open as only she can do.”

Vhalla stared at her feet, realizing blood splotched the bottom of her cloak. She couldn’t kill Major Schnurr here and now—it’d confirm everything he was saying, and the longer she lingered, the more likely it was for someone to notice the panting and battle-stained woman. Vhalla began to move, heading down along the outside of the crowd.

“It’s true!” a new voice cried. “Th-there’s three! They’re dead!”

More whispers, more nervous glances.

“Go, find her! Give her to the Knights. We’re the only ones who have ever been able to tame her kind. Clearly Solaris cannot be trusted!”