One act of defiance after the next, she had made her choice. From the moment she had rallied the troops at the Pass, she had drawn a line in the sand between her and the Emperor. He may own her physical being, but he did not own her heart or mind.
The terms of her sentence echoed in her ears. If she should run she would be put to death by Aldrik’s hand, a hand that couldn’t actually harm her due to the magical Bond that existed between them. Vhalla clenched her palms tightly, opening her Channel as much as possible. She would succeed and they would live, or she would fail and they would both die. There was no third option.
She wasn’t worried about the noise of the horse through the dense brush. Vhalla was certain it sounded like thunder and felt like an earthquake. But she was nothing more than a black streak in the night. Nothing would catch them with the wind beneath them.
Vhalla pulled the compass from her bag, waiting for a glint of moonlight to check her heading—due north, she confirmed. If a host of people could make it in seven days she’d make it in three. Vhalla shook her head, disagreeing with herself. She’d make it in two.
At the pit of her stomach a seed had begun to take root, a seed of doubt watered by fear. If she wasn’t fast enough, if Elecia couldn’t keep her vow, then Aldrik would die. The first man she ever truly loved would die while she was days away. He’d die without her ever saying goodbye.
She shook the treacherous thoughts from her mind. No! He would live. Every pulsing beat of her heart told her so. She felt his heartbeat through their Bond, a reassuring response to her desperation. The Joining still lived, the Bond still lived, and thus Vhalla knew he still lived.
Baston ran hard through the night. The horse seemed tireless, allowing Vhalla to succumb to twilight exhaustion in the saddle without stopping. She watched the branches of the giant trees above her blaze with the morning sun, the colors fading into oranges and daylight. Vhalla didn’t relent.
She kicked the horse’s sides again, snapping the reins. By daylight, they had to go even faster. Doubly noticeable with sight and sound, they were forced to outpace any potential foe.
The sun was beginning its journey downward when the trees began to thin and Vhalla was forced to slow Baston. Vhalla stared in shock at the water that stretched into the horizion, rocky finger jutting out into its mirror-still surface. Frantically, she checked the compass. But her eyes had been obsessive on the needle all day and she hadn’t gone off her heading.
Was it the coast? Vhalla had heard stories of the sea. A vast body of water so large it was incomprehensible. Sailors told stories of its dangers, waves big enough to swallow a ship when they broke, sea monsters, and the pirates that lurked on the outer isles between the mainland Empire and the savage Crescent Continent. Some sailors even said there was more than that to the world, but most regarded such ideas as an impossibility.
Horse and rider were mortal, and they both needed to rest. She could tell by Baston’s heaving sides that the horse was nearing his limits. Vhalla blinked her eyes, activating her magic sight.
The world rebuilt itself around her, the trees and plants appearing in hazy shades of gray. She didn’t see any movement, Commons or sorcerer, anywhere near her. Vhalla braved out onto the open rocky beach.
She led Baston to the base of a small bluff that curved away from the forest, retracting into a small cove at the water’s edge. It was enough for horse and rider to remain hidden from sight.
Vhalla’s legs almost gave out from exhaustion as she dismounted. Even if she had ridden halfway across the world, what she had just done was a very different type of riding. Her thighs were torn up and sore. Vhalla waded into the water and found it as cool and soothing as she’d hoped.
That was when she noticed that it was fresh. The sea she’d always read about was salty and not potable. But, as Vhalla discovered by dunking her head beneath the glassy surface, the water was indeed easy to drink.
It was a sweet taste that revealed to Vhalla how parched she was, and she struggled not to gulp down too much too quickly. She wouldn’t be able to heed the call of nature riding again and her stomach would be bloated and sick.
Vhalla tilted back her head so she wouldn’t guzzle any more and stared into the bright blue sky. It had been over a week since she’d seen the unbroken sky, and Vhalla hadn’t realized until that moment that her heart had been aching for it.
She dragged her waterlogged feet back toward the beach, collapsing near Baston. The stony emotional protection of Serien fractured and crumbled, leaving Vhalla feeling as though she’d just washed up from the lake. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes.