To kill you. Vhalla fought for—and meant—each of those words. He was like ice, invading her, freezing her in a prison of her mind where there was only him.

 You know you can’t. Look at you now, prone before my might. Your tenacity to resist is charming, but I am much stronger than you give me credit for. It will only result in the deaths of those you—

 Vhalla didn’t know if hers or Victor’s scream was louder. A blinding white light penetrated through the darkness. It immolated the shade of Victor that had been moving into her mind. It scorched her and exposed her like a babe raw to the world.

 She opened her eyes weakly, not expecting the face that stared back at her. Princess Sehra dominated Vhalla’s field of vision. Her hands slowly pulled away from Vhalla’s temples before she sagged into Za’s waiting arms.

 “Vhalla, my Vhalla,” Aldrik coaxed from her side.

 She shuddered violently, but squeezed his hand as tight as she could.

 “She’s too cold.” Elecia pulled her hand away from Vhalla’s face. “We must warm her up.”

 “What’s happening?” Fritz asked the question on everyone’s mind.

 “He’s using the crystals to entwine his magic with hers,” Sehra answered, instantly gaining the floor. “I wondered, when she lowered the gate, but I did not expect this . . .”

 “Y-you saved me.” Vhalla couldn’t believe it.

 “I did,” the princess didn’t mince words. “But he will be back. He’s stinging, but that was not a fatal blow.”

 “Thank you,” Vhalla whispered.

 Sehra regarded her for a long moment before giving a small nod.

 “What did you do?” There was genuine gratitude in Aldrik’s voice.

 “I used the power of Yargen to put a stop to the crystals,” Sehra spoke as though the fact should’ve been obvious.

 “What is the power of Yargen?” Jax asked the question Vhalla had been meaning to.

 Sehra and Za shared a look. After a quiet exchange in the Northern tongue, Sehra spoke again, although the rest of the room was keenly aware that they would be hearing an edited version.

 “That which you call the Mother has a name, Yargen. She cultivated the earth and gave those tools to the initial peoples of this land.”

 Vhalla had heard this story before, she realized. Victor had mentioned it.

 “One tool was an axe, Achel, capable of splitting the earth and creating life. It was given to the first Child of Yargen, and the place they did so was Soricium. When their job was done, they committed Achel to rest. I am a descendent of the first child, and Yargen has chosen me to hold her magic.” Sehra went from addressing the group, to only addressing Jax. “So the magic of Yargen is her strength, the force of life and light and order.”

 “So, crystals are of the Gods?” Vhalla asked slowly as she warmed, thanks to Aldrik’s fire burning near her.

 “They are,” Sehra affirmed. “It is their power in physical form. Something that we mortals can barely dip into without severe consequences.”

 “The taint,” Fritz put “severe consequences” in more common words.

 “And why I cannot do what I just did very often.” Sehra looked over Vhalla solemnly. “I could not break the connection you have with him, only stall it for a time. He will come back for you. If you can harness his magic, the crystal magic, you are the thing which stands in his way.”

 “How often can you do it?” Aldrik asked.

 “I’m far from Soricium.” Sehra shook her head. “Even surrounded by life here, there is much wickedness and impure magic upon these lands. My link to Yargen is not strong enough to do it more than every few days.”

 “Every few days? She could die!” The Emperor wasn’t pleased with the news.

 “You kill Sehra if she does more.” Za scowled. “Southern King be thankful.”

 Aldrik opened his mouth to speak, and Vhalla stopped him with a touch. “Za is right. And I wouldn’t want Sehra to die for me.” Vhalla turned to the princess. “How much longer until he can be back in my mind?”

 “I cannot say.” She shook her head solemnly. “It all depends on how badly he seeks it.”

 “How much longer until we reach the capital?”

 “Fifteen days,” Aldrik said finally.

 He’d said a number. But all Vhalla heard was a death sentence.

CHAPTER 29

 Vhalla had the best sleep in what felt like years. There was no grating on the underside of her flesh, nor were there any nightmares. She could enjoy the loving support of her husband without fear, and Aldrik indulged her every want for comfort.

 The next morning, Vhalla sought out Fritz first thing and apologized. Her friend was understanding, even apologetic himself for not being more understanding of the situation. They both said their peace and continued on as normal—as much as possible. She did the same with Jax, though the Westerner seemed to have already forgotten their tension.

 Her heightened awareness did not serve her on the march, however. Vhalla forced herself to ignore the stares and whispers as the army mounted and began marching. She kept her head high and kept her face impassive. But her ears heard.

 “Did you see how she fought?”

 “The Empress of blood.”

 “Crimson twister.”

 “Death bringer.”

 Aldrik kept glaring from the corners of his eyes, a silent challenge for anyone to raise their voice to something more than a whisper. None rose to his challenge, and the gossip eventually faded. But it weighed heavy in her mind in the days that followed.

 Vhalla woke from sleep with a searing pain through her mind.

 All those things said of you.

 She gripped her head, panting. Aldrik stirred.

 They will never respect you. They will always fear you. You put your powers on display, your might, and that was their response? To call you a monster? Look at the ignorance of Commons. Victor’s voice echoed through her mind right behind her temples.

 “Go away,” Vhalla hissed.

 “Vhalla?” Aldrik sat, clearly hesitant to touch her. “Is he awake?”

 Is that the man you claim to love? Tell Aldrik hello for me. I so look forward to killing him again. Do tell me, how did you survive the Crystal Caverns? The same way you forced me out of your mind yesterday? What power was that?

 “I said go away.” Vhalla closed her eyes and imagined her mind like the wide plains of the East. Vast and overwhelmed with wind. Someplace that she knew, but any other man could be lost within.

 Why don’t you come to me? Come to me, Vhalla. Victor’s voice was already weaker. Sehra had been right, he was certainly recovering from whatever the princess had done.

 “Go away!” she screamed.

 Victor released his hold on her mind.

 Their tent flap opened without permission, a pair of concerned Western eyes looking between them. Vhalla stared back at Jax and realized her responses to Victor had been said aloud. Aldrik shook his head, and the guard retreated.