Vhalla blinked.
“If this all occurred, then where are the documents?” Egmun asked in haste.
“Oh, my apologies, senator.” Victor fussed in his bag and produced an official-looking paper. He walked over and Egmun met him at the bottom of the steps leading to the senatorial seats. “You should find it all in order.”
Egmun glanced over the parchment with a frown.
“This bears the seal of the prince,” Egmun growled.
“It certainly does,” Victor said matter-of-factly. “He is very active in the Tower, as you know.”
Vhalla looked across at Aldrik. He had a small smirk curling up the corners of his mouth. His confidence fit on him like well-tailored clothing.
“And of the Master of Tome...” The paper shook like an autumn leaf in Egmun’s hands.
Vhalla blinked. It had Mohned’s mark?
“Senators, I think you will find all the necessary signatures, mine and Vhalla’s included.”
Her signature was on there? It had been forged, and she had a suspicion she knew by who. The master wouldn’t, even if he knew it was her wishes, and Victor didn’t know her writing.
Aldrik allowed his eyes to meet hers levelly for a moment, and she knew. He was asking for her silence with that dark gaze. She closed her eyes for half a breath and looked back at him, hoping he understood. While she had never told the prince her decision in the end, she had to assume that somehow he knew. Vhalla wondered if Mohned’s signature was a fake too or if the master was also stretching the truth on her behalf.
“We had actually started working with her; it would have been irresponsible of us not to. She’s been in the Tower quite a bit since her awakening. She even has a mentor.” He produced another piece of paper, and Vhalla realized Larel was also fighting for her. It was a relief to see that Egmun wasn’t the only one who could paint pictures with words.
“If she was in such control by the Tower, then what happened the Night of Fire and Wind?” Egmun said roughly, his annoyance showing.
“Everyone Manifests differently. There hasn’t been a Windwalker in almost one hundred fifty years. We can only operate on the best knowledge we have,” Victor said casually.
“That lax attitude may have gotten innocent people killed,” Egmun sneered.
“I believe the prince was doing his best to keep an eye on our promising apprentice and those around her. We can only make adjustments going forward. But as a point of reference, were there any confirmed deaths from the cyclone?” Victor asked.
Egmun paused.
“Quite the contrary,” an old and sagely voice called from the back of the room. All eyes turned and Vhalla smiled; Mohned had come. “Forgive my tardiness, good ladies and sirs of the Senate, your graces of the Empire.” He walked slowly to the edge of public seating on the left. The master stood at the short fence that blocked off the area from the central testimony dais.
“Only one witness is to speak at a time,” Egmun scolded, glaring at Mohned.
“I would like to hear what he has to say, Head Elect,” an Eastern female senator called.
Mohned turned to the Emperor. “If it would please your highness?” the master asked.
The Emperor looked to the Senate and received motions of approval, so he gave Mohned a nod. Master Mohned crossed through the gate to stand on the dais with Victor. Vhalla looked at him; he was hunched over and looked every year of his age.
“Please explain what you meant,” the female senator asked, taking some control from Egmun.
“I just came from the clerics. Unfortunately, one of my apprentices died in the explosion.”
Sareem, Vhalla breathed his name faintly, his face clouding her vision in an instant. Would she ever have a chance to mourn him? Or would she soon meet him in the Father’s realms beyond?
“But another was with him. The girl’s name is Roan.”
“Is Roan alive, master?” she called frantically.
The Emperor seemed to let the outburst slide, much to Egmun’s annoyance.
The master gave her a nod. “She will heal in time, the clerics say,” the master replied with a nod.
Vhalla didn’t try to hide her tears of joy. “I’m so glad,” she rasped.
“Well, this is just touching, but I fail to see how it is relevant.” Egmun was trying to regain control.
“Roan, my apprentice, was discovered right next to the epicenter of the wind storm,” the master pointed out. “I have been told the storm had such force it ripped apart the attacking Northerners and tore down buildings. If she was right next to it, would she not have been tossed to shreds also?”
A murmuring coursed through the senators. Egmun looked around, his face twisting in rage.
“Now that you mention it,” Baldair joined the conversation with a thoughtful rub of his chin. “None of the bodies were moved, alive or dead. They hardly seemed touched by the wind at all. They still littered the road. I would’ve imagined them blown about.”
The murmuring became louder, and for the first time Vhalla breathed a little easier. Not only because it seemed like Egmun’s control was wavering, but because she realized she hadn’t hurt anyone, save for the Northerners who tried to kill her and Aldrik.
Egmun stomped down the stairs and up onto the dais, clutching the paper Victor had handed him earlier.
“Is this your signature, master?” He shoved the paper in Master Mohned’s face, forcing him to take a step back to try to read it. “Tell me, had it been decided that Vhalla Yarl would join the Tower?” The senator took another aggressive step forward thrusting his fist and the paper at Mohned.
“Let me read it.” Mohned took another step back, and the hem of his robes caught on the small lip that surrounded the inner circle of the sun dais. The master’s old, frail frame began to tumble backwards, and Egmun made no motion to stabilize the older man. Victor was too far away, and Vhalla saw it happen, as if ten seconds slower than everyone else. The master couldn’t correct his balance and, with pin-wheeling arms, he began to tumble backwards.
“Master!” Vhalla cried and thrust her hand out from between the bars, the chain of her shackles clanking loudly. She felt a tingle in her fingertips. Her magic still felt exhausted and barely strung together, but enough had replenished to heed her command.
The master’s fall slowed with a ruffle of his robes, and he was eased onto the floor gently. Mohned turned his head and smiled at her as the rest of the room sat in a stunned silence.
She took a shaky breath as Victor helped Master Mohned carefully back onto his feet.
“Thank you, Vhalla,” he said gently, readjusting his stance.
She had just enough time to breathe a small sigh of relief before chaos descended upon the room.
“GUARDS!” EGMUN CRIED.
Vhalla glanced back at Craig and Daniel. They were frozen in place, and the odd sense of wonder on Daniel’s face as he looked at her told Vhalla their stillness wasn’t entirely from fear.
“Guards!” Egmun bellowed and they sprang to life, pushing her to the ground roughly, their swords drawn. The tips pressed into the back of Vhalla’s neck.
“Calm down!” Victor cried, his hands in the air.
“She’s a monster!” shrieked one senator.
“We’re not safe here!” wailed another.
“Vhalla wouldn’t hurt anyone,” the master attempted.
“It isn’t natural,” a man shouted.
“You old fool, it’s amazing,” came a lone voice, though one or two others muttered agreement.
The shouts and arguments became more heated, and Vhalla felt the boots of the guards on her back. She’d made a mistake. Without thinking or planning, she’d used her magic in front of everyone. Vhalla struggled to twist her head to see, very aware that sudden movements could be permanently detrimental to her health.