Aldrik looked startled a moment. “Yes.”
“Then why would we want our tracks to be—” she began softly musing.
“Because we only want the right people to know,” Aldrik spoke over her. “I can’t just tell anyone we’re headed for the caverns, given their history.”
“Of course.” She glanced over at him. His jaw was clenched tight. “Aldrik, don’t worry.”
“Worry?”
“Well, yes.” Vhalla shifted the reins in her hands. “I know that since it’s the Crystal Caverns, you must be worried. But this isn’t your fault. Last time really wasn’t either. But this truly is not.”
“I know,” he said thoughtfully. “This is Victor’s fault. But then again, I shouldn’t have let such a powerful sorcerer go so unchecked.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“I should have.” Aldrik frowned. “He was my mentor. We experienced the same thing as boys. I should have known. I should have put a stop to you working with crystals with him.”
“I should’ve done it myself.” Whatever Victor truly intended, she’d enabled it. Vhalla began to question everything the minister had ever told her. “Doesn’t he see? All that’s there is death.”
“No, all that’s there is power,” Aldrik corrected. Vhalla considered the strange comment as the prince continued. “Neither good, nor evil, it’s the hearts of men that turn a weapon into the tool of a knight or a butcher.”
“How far is it?” His manner was making her abnormally uneasy, and Vhalla was eager to change the topic. Something about the night air and the stillness was starting to get to her nerves.
“It can take slow riders two days.” He remained fixated on a distant point of the horizon.
“Two days?” They didn’t have rations or supplies for a journey of that length.
“But these horses were bred for speed and endurance in the mountains. We can push them. I hope to arrive before dawn.”
“How long ago did Victor leave?” She tried to remember how Aldrik said he’d known the minister had ridden off to the caverns.
“Only an hour or two,” he answered confidently.
“Perhaps we could intercept him before he gets there,” she mused hopefully.
“Perhaps.”
Vhalla resisted the parrot comment in the wake of something dawning on her. “Wait, how could you have known when Victor left? Didn’t you only just go to his office before coming to me?”
“Someone else had mentioned seeing him.”
Something still wasn’t settling right. “But if Victor only left an hour or two before us, shouldn’t we see trac—”
The reverberation of a low horn echoed through the mountains, sounding through the still forest. Vhalla turned. The palace and capital city was out of sight, but the sound was unmistakable.
“They know,” he whispered. “Damn it, we should have had more time!”
Aldrik snapped his horse back to a run. Vhalla followed suit, her body tense. If they were trying to save everyone from the caverns, then why did it feel like they were fugitives in the night?
“Can’t we wait for more help?” she called, catching up to him. “We should be close to Victor now!”
“No!” Aldrik barked. “If they catch up to you and me, what do you think will happen?”
“I don’t—”
“Think!” He waited for her to fill in the blank.
“Your father?”
“Who else?” Aldrik frowned and looked forward, pushing his heels into the horse.
“What will he do?” Vhalla wondered if she would ever be able to return to the palace.
“I don’t know, Vhalla.” Aldrik’s voice was high and tense.
“He said nothing?” she asked, baffled the prince could go back into the company of his father and not know. The Emperor always seemed to be proud of his proclamations when it came to pulling them apart or conceiving some ill-designed fate for her. She had fully expected him to torment Aldrik with the knowledge.
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to speak on it!” He glared at her. “We have other things to worry about.”
“What’s wrong with you, Aldrik?” she exclaimed as they dashed through the night. “What did I do to make you lash out at me so?”
Aldrik stared at her, his mouth parted slightly. He closed it, and a gentle expression overtook his brow, even if his eyes still seemed guarded and distant. She relaxed some just seeing it, feeling a twinge of guilt at being so aggressive toward him in the wake of his grief.
“I’m sorry, Vhalla,” he sighed. “Too much has gone on, and I need to do this. I need to focus right now.”
Vhalla understood what this could be, what it likely meant for him. This was his chance to redeem himself. To protect the world from an evil that he had once aided in setting free. They were grieving, tired, and now hunted. Nothing made sense in the world anymore.
“I’m sorry for snapping.”
“I need your trust.” He caught her eyes. “Please, tonight, just trust me.”
“Always,” she replied easily.