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 disposaclass="underline" her mind.
Vhalla looked behind them at the deep tracks in the snow. Despite the cold, sweat ran down her forehead. If she had her powers, she could cover those betraying dips in the white world. Cursing aloud, she snapped the leather in her death-grip, her heels digging into Lightning. Anyone would be able to see the path leading right to the Charem home.
“We need to split up!” Vhalla pulled hard on her reins. “Loop around in circles.”
“What?” Reona was shaking, and Vhalla doubted it was from cold.
“Make a bunch of circles, loop back, and then we’ll meet back up again in a bit. Stay in earshot,” Vhalla ordered.
Cass picked up on what Vhalla was attempting, likely she was one of the hunters of the family, and followed Vhalla’s orders. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but the abomination didn’t seem too intelligent, and it was better than nothing. They rode apart for a stretch, coming back together just as the Charem home came into view.
Orel was out chopping wood. Tama and the two Northern women were tending to something in the livestock pens. The horses were a fury of thunder that shattered the relative peace.
Vhalla met a set of emerald eyes. Sehra studied her face as if she was able to replay the horrors Vhalla witnessed from her expression alone.
“Daddy!” Reona launched off her horse, stumbled, rolled in the snow, found her feet, and ran to her father. Orel was confused, but wasted no time scooping his crying daughter into his large arms. “Daddy, daddy, daddy!”
The commotion drew the men from within the home, and a pair of dark eyes met hers. Vhalla looked at Aldrik, and her chest tightened. He knew instantly something was amiss.
Vhalla and Cass dismounted, and the older girl stumbled in the snow. Cass went instantly to her mother, saying nothing. Tama stared at her shaken daughter and took her child into her arms without question.
“What happened? Reona, sweetling, what happened?” Orel tried to console his hysterical daughter.
Vhalla stood in the snow, at a loss as to who she should turn to. Her arms hung limply at her sides as the information continued to sink into her. Aldrik’s gaze was upon her, his boot crunched the snow. Vhalla raised her gold-flecked eyes to meet obsidian.
“Vhalla,” he asked, he demanded.
She swallowed. Someone had to do it. One of them had to say it, and she was not about to make the girls who had accompanied her perform that duty. They were just girls, as she had once been. But her innocence had long since been lost. It was a fate she would not force, nor push, upon the Charem daughters. Vhalla’s shoulder ached all the way to her chest.
“Aldrik.” She did not care for the lack of his title before anyone anymore. Vhalla spoke only to him. “It’s Victor.”
He took another step toward her. Vhalla braced herself. She would find the words. Strength, she had to find the strength first. Her will would replace her magic; it would be just as strong as her winds ever were.
“What happened?” He kept his eyes locked with hers.
“The Emperor.” No matter what the man had done to her, to them, he had been Aldrik’s father. Vhalla’s voice softened. “Your father, the Empress, they’re dead.”
“What?” Elecia stepped forward as if she had somehow misheard Vhalla.
Aldrik tried to reach out, but only briefly. The spark that brought his hands to life was gone, and they hung at his side. His lips parted, and she saw the shock crash down on him. Her heart broke for the man she loved. First his brother, now his father, and who knew how many countless others were dead and gone.
Panic momentarily overwhelmed her at the thought of everyone she still loved in the capital, but Vhalla pushed through it.
“There was a messenger—a tainted abomination—sent from Victor. I can only assume one of many,” Vhalla answered Elecia, though her gaze stayed on Aldrik. “He was dead, long dead. But there was a crystal through his eye, and it somehow kept him moving.” She shook her head; it was magic beyond her understanding. Sehra had said as much. All the rules were gone now. This would be a fight unlike any they had ever seen. “He said Victor had become the supreme king of this world. That the old regime, the family Solaris and all who supported them in the capital, were dead.”
Her words filled the forest clearing, and Vhalla could see the moment everyone understood their meaning. Aldrik visibly swayed a moment, taking a step to adjust his balance. Vhalla’s hand rose to the watch at her neck. He was a prince without a throne. A man who had lost his mother, his brother, now his father, along with his kingdom and everything he had ever known. No one said a word. Aldrik stared blankly at her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. With those words, she knew it became real for him. Her sympathy, her pain on his behalf made the rest of it true, just as it had with Baldair.
He opened and closed his mouth, trying to find words. Her prince, he had endured so much death, so much loss and hurt that she could not save him from. Now Vhalla feared he was on the point of breaking. She took a step forward, at the same time as Orel.
“There is only one true king, one true lord of these lands. It is not some man whom I have never heard of before,” the head of the Charem family announced.
Aldrik turned to face the burly woodcutter, his eyes wide and expressionless.
“And that lord stands before me.” The man dropped to a knee, bowing his head. “Long live the Emperor Solaris.”
Aldrik blinked at Orel, still at an utter loss for words.
“Long live the Emperor Solaris.” Tama repeated her husband’s words dutifully, and the matriarch sunk to her knees.
“Long live Solaris,” Elecia announced proudly. Jax echoed the same, and both Westerners dropped to a knee, their heads bowed.
One by one, the Charem children began to follow suit. Each proclaimed their loyalty before sinking into the snow. To Vhalla’s shock, she witnessed the Northerners drop to their knees as well. The princess’s eyes were fixed on hers, and they spoke silent volumes, reminding Vhalla that their loyalty was on contingency. That their deal now mattered more than ever.
Vhalla turned back to Aldrik.
It was not a grand coronation in the Chapel of the Sun. There were no Crones to lead oaths. The wind replaced trumpets and snow replaced confetti of gold. He did not stand upon the Sunlit Stage, swathed in gold and white. There was no blazing crown of the sun to be placed upon his brow.
His succession came washed in the blood of his father and all who dared support his name. His gifts, his prizes of leadership, were loss and hardship. There was no mantle of the sun to settle upon his shoulders, only pain.