Vhalla closed the book and returned it to the shelf as quickly and carefully as possible. She sprinted out of the archives and thanked the master with a panting breath before she was out of the library.

VHALLA!” GRAHM CALLED out.

She skidded to a stop. The man must be part psychic and part hawk to pick her out when she was nothing more than a blur up the Tower.

“Vhalla, do you have a moment?” He emerged from the Tower library where he had been sitting with Fritz before stepping into the main hall.

“I was actually on my way to see the minister . . .” Vhalla glanced upward. What she needed to talk about would keep. She knew it would, so she didn’t need to avoid taking time for Grahm. But the Eastern book had lit a fire under her, and now Vhalla had a lot of questions that she just wanted answered.

“Is it urgent?” Grahm asked, as if reading her mind. “I needed to speak to you about vessels.”

“Oh, well, if it’s that, could we do it another time?”

“I suppose.” Grahm rubbed the back of his neck. “It was something Larel asked.”

“Something Larel asked?” Vhalla repeated. That was the last thing she’d been expecting.

“What does this have to do with Larel?” Fritz joined them in the hall.

“This was something she asked me to do if . . .” The Easterner looked between them, a sorrowful expression overcame him. “If she didn’t make it back.”

“What is it?” One hand sought out the comfort of the watch under her tunic, the other gripped Fritz’s tightly.

“She came to me with a bracelet she had made for you. Do you still have it?” Vhalla nodded at Grahm. “She wanted to make a vessel of it, a vessel of words. She said she knew Fritz and I were close and she could trust me with this, as a friend of a friend.”

“Larel did?” Fritz jumped in.

Larel had seen it, Vhalla realized. She had seen Fritz’s affection for the other man. She had known Fritz would go back to this person and trusted him with her message. Because those were the kinds of things Larel had been able to see—the inner mechanics of other people’s hearts.

“Do you have the bracelet?” Grahm asked.

“I do,” Vhalla answered eagerly, thinking of the beautiful metal cuff Larel had given Vhalla for her birthday.

Her heart raced as they started for her room. Vhalla wanted to break out into an all-out run. The world was moving far too slowly for her liking. Larel, her mentor, her guiding hand, her sister and confidant—she had something more to give. Vhalla’s feet picked up speed, and the men silently followed.

The bracelet was exactly where Vhalla had left it when she had marched to war. Vhalla wondered when Larel had taken the time to spirit it away to Grahm, but Vhalla hadn’t been paying attention to much of anything in the days leading up to the march.

Retrieving it, Grahm led them down into a center workroom. Along the perimeter were a handful of small doors. A couple of men and women worked at stations littered with books, focused on the magic that sparkled around the tokens they were focused intently on.

“This is where Waterrunners learn about vessels,” Fritz explained upon seeing Vhalla’s confused expression, keeping close to Grahm as he led them to one of the doors along the outside.

Grahm flipped a disk hanging by the door, from black to silver. “You know what to do, Fritz.”

“You won’t come in?” Fritz blinked.

“No,” Grahm shook his head. “I think it’s better if it’s just the both of you.”

Vhalla’s curiosity silenced her confused questions.

“But, I always—” Fritz began uncertainly.

“You will be fine.” Grahm rested a palm on Fritz’s shoulder. “You have a problem recording to the vessel still, yes, but you should have no problem drawing out the words that are recorded within the magic.”

“I’d feel better if you were there,” Fritz insisted.

“Larel would have wanted you to do it on your own,” Grahm countered. There were no more arguments that could be put forward. “I’ll be out here when you’re finished.”

Grahm opened the door, and Vhalla followed Fritz into a small chamber.

There was a single flame bulb overhead, casting the room in light shadow. It was little more than a closet, barely large enough for two people to stand around a center pedestal. Fritz squeezed around to the far side, and Vhalla stood opposite with the door to her back. Square in shape, the pedestal had a shallow indent in the center that was filled with water. It looked almost like a birdbath.

“Place it in the center of the water,” Fritz instructed.

Vhalla did as she was told, gingerly putting down her precious possession with two hands.

“Fritz,” she whispered.

“Yeah?” His eyes were glued onto the bracelet.

“What’s going to happen?”

“Oh, right.” Fritz shook his head. “I forget you’re still technically new to the Tower. Vessels can store magic. But with a skilled Waterrunner—like Grahm—they can also hold words.”

“Words?” Vhalla stared at the unassuming piece of jewelry.

Fritz nodded and lifted his hands, placing his fingertips into the edge of the water. Her friend took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Vhalla watched as his magic pulsed outward, generating shimmering ripples in the water. At first, the ripples bounced away from the bracelet in small waves, as they would any normal object. But the pulsing changed, and eventually the ripples hit the bracelet, stopping as though they were absorbed.