“I have a proposal,” Liv’s father said, before any of the elders could object to his mother’s words. “If we know that Benedict’s forces will not move until winter has passed, that gives us nearly three months to act in Varuna. Let us use that time to secure a waystone within striking distance of the mountains.”

“You have a particular target in mind, I assume?” Aira asked.

Valtteri unrolled a large map, inked on vellum. Before he could kneel to place it on the floor of the chamber, Liv extended a hand, murmured an incantation, and conjured a disk of raw mana at waist height to act as a table. Her father nodded to her in thanks, and then continued.

“Ractia’s forces have, to this point, avoided the badlands south of the Airaduinë river, between the mountains and the jungles,” Valtteri said. “So far as I recall from the histories of the war, there was one of the Vædic Lords who made a home in that area.”

“Staivis, the Lord of Stone,” Aira confirmed, with a nod. “Miriam led an army into the painted rocks that surrounded his dwelling, and only a handful returned. The rebellion very nearly did not recover.”

Liv watched the old woman’s face and wondered whether that had happened before, or after the Lady of Thorns had been defeated. Had Aira and her mother, hiding in the valley east of Al’Fenthia, heard the news and hoped that it marked the end of the war? That they would be left alone?

“Where one of the Vædim made their home, there will be a private waystone,” Liv said, following her father’s thinking. “One that must be reached overland, I imagine.”

“But if we can find it and take control of it,” her father explained, “it could put our troops within striking distance of the mountains. The problem is that Wren and the other two hunters did not know the precise location - though I’ve no doubt that Ractia herself does.”

“Sidonie,” Elder Aira said, turning to Liv’s friend. “Show him.”

The journeyman reached up to adjust where her spectacles sat on her nose - a sign of nervousness, Liv understood now. She removed her notebook from where she wore it strapped to her belt, and flipped through the pages until she’d reached a familiar map. Liv smiled when she saw that it was what Sidonie had spent so long working at while they were in the ring of the Vædim, far above the world.

Sidonie tapped a finger on her map, then reached over to the unrolled piece of vellum Liv’s father had spread out. “Here,” she said. “There was a rift marked here.”

“The Feic Seria,” Aira said. “The painted desert. I saw it once, before the war - when my mother took me along on a visit. She was helping Staivis adapt a new variety of succulent,” the old woman murmured, more to herself than to the room. “It was beautiful, then.”

The elder shook herself, and her voice became firm, decisive. “You will need someone to alter Staivis’ waystone, so that you can move troops from the bridge, or Al’Fenthia, to there. I am, unfortunately, the weak link in your plan, Valtteri. I’m not certain that I can make that journey.”

“You don’t have to, elder,” Liv said. “In fact, it's probably better for all of us if you don’t. You said that the Garden of Thorns recognized you as having your mother’s authority, because of the key. What about rifts that weren’t the personal property of one of the Vædim? Or a rift where the key was lost or destroyed?”

“There are certain rights possessed by any one of the Vædim,” Aira explained. “That’s how Ractia is able to do what she has been. Could I take complete control? No. But I could adjust the waystone.”

“And from the control rooms, you could stop the eruptions,” Liv reasoned. “I think we need you back here in the north, to prevent Ractia from triggering our rifts whenever it's convenient for her. If a rift erupts, a team can escort you in to end it.”

“If not Aira, then who?” Severi asked.

Liv reached across the map and tapped a point far to the north of Isvara. “We have a second key. I just need to go get it.”

“No,” her father exclaimed.

“Valtteri,” her grandmother said. “Listen to your daughter’s plan, at least.”

“While Benedict’s forces wait for the snows to melt, I’ll go to the Tomb of Celris,” Liv said, laying out her plan. “There’s a kind of crown there, a circlet of silver, at the bottom of the chasm. My grandfather spoke of it before he died,” she explained to Aira and the elders on the council, “and he asked me to go and retrieve it when I was ready. Once I have the key, I’ll use the waystone at the Tomb to journey back to Varuna, and meet up with my father’s troops.”

“I would speak with my daughter alone, for a moment,” Valtteri said. “If the council would excuse us.”

“Very well,” Aira said. “Step outside. The guards at the door will admit you again when you are ready.”

Leaving the map behind, Valtteri strode over to the great carved double doors of the council chamber, and yanked them open. He paused for a moment there, at the threshold, and turned back, waiting for Liv.

“You want us to come with you?” Rosamund asked.

Liv shook her head. “No. I understand what this is about, and it's between my father and I.” She left her friends behind and followed her father out into the winter afternoon, where the enchantments in her armor activated and began to warm her against the chill.

Valtteri led her away from where the guards kept watch to either side of the door, to the very edge of the platform that supported the council hall. There, he crossed his arms and leaned against the railing, looking down into the streets of the city.

Liv followed him, considering what to say. “Just because she died, doesn’t mean that I will.”

“My father should never have permitted your aunt to go,” Valtteri said. “And he should never have told you.”

“It’s a lucky thing that he did,” Liv pointed out. “It solves our problem. We can keep Aira here with her key. Whatever extent she can limit Ractia’s control over rifts in the north is better than letting our enemies have free reign to cause eruptions. She’ll need a group of solid warriors to be her escort, but it's better than having no solution at all.”

“And,” Liv said, after thinking for a moment, “after taking her into the Garden of Thorns, I agree with her. She’s too old to make an overland journey through the jungle and into a desert. She can protect our people back here in the north, and I’ll bring the key to you in Varuna.”

“No!” her father shouted, and the violence of it made Liv jump. She’d never heard him speak like that to her before. “You cannot. I won’t allow it.”

Liv bit her lip. “I understand that losing your sister hurt you,” she said. “I understand you’re afraid the same thing will happen to me. But you can’t keep me out of this war forever. Are you planning to hold me back when the time comes to fight Ractia?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Beside her, Valtteri was silent.

“Are you planning to lock me in my rooms, here?” Liv asked. “Because unless you are - and I suspect I could get out even if you did - you can’t actually stop me from going. I know the sigils. I can go directly from the waystone here to the Tomb. And even if you ordered the soldiers to bar me from using the waystone, I could just fly north to Mountain Home and use the waystone there. Keri would allow it.”

“He’d probably go with you,” her father admitted, with a sigh. “No. I’m not going to try to keep my own daughter a prisoner. But -” he paused, and when Valtteri spoke again, his voice broke. “Please. Please, don’t go there, Livara. I’ve missed so much of your life. I didn’t even know you existed, for so many years. I can’t lose you now.”

Liv turned and wrapped her arms around her father’s waist. “You won’t,” she said. “I promise. And I will not be going alone.”

It took a moment, but she finally felt her father’s body relax. He turned, finally, from the rail toward her, and wrapped Liv in his arms.

☙

When Liv and her father returned to the council chamber, she felt the eyes of her friends upon her, all wondering what had happened. She simply nodded in return, and let her father speak for himself. Her grandmother, on the other hand, gave her a soft smile of encouragement.

“My daughter will go to the Tomb of Celris,” Valtteri said. “It is my hope that her friends will go with her.”

“Of course,” Rosamund said, without even a moment’s hesitation.

“Yes,” Arjun added. “I wouldn't let her risk her life alone.”

“I’ll be staying here,” Sidonie said. “I’m sorry, Liv. I’d like to go with you. But elder Aira has agreed to teach me. She remembers things about Vædic magic that I’m not sure anyone else alive knows.”

“I will send Sidonie to meet you in Varuna when we are ready,” Aira promised. “While you get the key, Livara, she will learn everything you will need to know about how to use it. She will guide you when you reach Feic Seria. In the meanwhile, Valtteri’s forces will cut their way through the jungle and seize the rift. They will destroy whatever forces defend it, and hold that point until you arrive with the key.”

“It will take her just as long to cross the jungle as it will her father,” Severi pointed out.

Liv shook her head. “No it won’t. We’ll fly, just like we flew here. We’ll use the waystone at the Tomb to get back to the bridge, and then catch up. We’ll stop just long enough to have Sidonie join us, and hopefully Wren will have returned by that point.”

“That only gives you three people to brave the Tomb,” her father pointed out.

“Four,” Keri said, finally speaking up after having watched most of the proceedings in silence. “If you will have me, Livara, I would go with you. The only thing I would ask is that we go to Mountain Home first. We can resupply there, and make certain everyone is rested and healthy before we enter the Tomb.”

“It’s been a long time since you’ve seen your son, hasn’t it?” Liv asked him, and the Elden warrior nodded. “Of course,” she agreed. “And perhaps your people can find some armor for Rose, at least. If she’s going to be up front with you, using a sword, she needs protection.”

“I’m sure we can fit her with something,” Keri promised, giving Rose a nod.

Valtteri bowed his head for a moment, and then spoke. “It sounds as if we are agreed,” he said. “I will lead a portion of our warriors west and south, into the badlands of Varuna, to the ancient home of Staivis. We will secure a camp on the edge of the rift, as best we can, and prepare the way. Airis, I believe your son can hold the waystone at the bridge.”

“Our time in Varuna has matured him,” the Elden merchant agreed, nodding his head. “I will organize our supply lines from here in Al’Fenthia.”

“Livara and Keri will take their group first to Mountain Home, for preparations, and then to the Tomb of Celris,” Valtteri continued. “They will recover the key there, and then join us in Varuna. If all goes well, we will take control of the waystone at Feic Seria before the snows melt in Whitehill. We can then use the Bald Peak Rift to support them against Benedict.”

“I will begin quietly buying up supplies,” Airis said. “I have no doubt the merchant guilds will sell to us, and I will use our conflict with Ractia as my excuse. I don’t think they will even question the purchase of food - most humans don’t understand what we need to eat, anyway. We can then begin shipping goods into Whitehill through Bald Peak. I’ve dealt with Duchess Julianne and Baron Henry before. I can handle communication with them.”

“Liv, you should take the dreamstone back,” Sidonie said. She reached into the pocket beneath her dress and removed the broken piece of mana stone, then handed it over.

“Did he give you the word?” Liv asked her.

Sidonie nodded, and tapped a finger against her forehead with her other hand. “Cei, imprinted.”

Liv nodded, and only then accepted the stone. “It would be good if he could make another set,” she pointed out. “Something to ask Master Grenfell about, Airis. When Wren turns up at the bridge, send her along to where I am, please.” It was probably too much to hope for the huntress to rejoin them in time to brave the Tomb of Celris, but Liv couldn’t help but want it anyway.

“Just how far are we prepared to go to support Whitehill?” Severi asked. “Arms, armor, food - that is one thing. But let us decide now, and be in agreement. Do we draw the line at support, or will we actually send Elden warriors into this conflict?”

“I will go,” Liv said, without hesitation. “I have family there, just like I have family here. I won’t just abandon them.”

“They’ll need a healer,” Arjun said, with a smile. “Though I’d like to ask - elder Aira, is there anyone in Elden lands who could imprint me with Ract? Seeing those enchantments you showed us, I want to try using all three words of power together.”

“It’s never been a popular word,” Aira answered. “Most healers use Cail. I would have to ask around a bit to find someone.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Liv’s grandmother broke in. “I brought a warrior from my family’s lands that is quite skilled with the word. I’ll introduce you to her, Arjun.”

“And she says she can’t see the future,” Severi grumbled. Liv was certain she caught her grandmother suppressing a smile.

“What about you, Rose?” she asked, turning to her friend. Was friend the right word, anymore? “If you fight against Benedict, your family could pay for it.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Rosamund said simply.

“I am willing to lead warriors from my house against Benedict,” Keri said. “That man’s never been an ally of ours, and I don’t think there’s anything to be lost by finally getting that out in the open. If his nobles see him starting a war against us, rather than just suppressing a rebellion in his own lands, maybe that will finally start to turn his barons against him.”

“Your father and aunt will permit this?” Aira asked him.

“They’ve trusted me to lead our troops against Ractia for twenty-five years now,” Keri stated. “I’ve given them no reason to doubt my decisions. I’m confident it won’t be a problem.”

“Houses Syvä and Däivi will not send my granddaughter to fight alone,” Eila said, brushing a strand of dark blue hair back behind her ear. “I speak for both councils in this matter.”

Liv felt a rush of warmth at her grandmother’s words. She wondered just how much Eila Tär Väinis had arranged before coming to Al’Fenthia. “Thank you,” she said.

“We will speak after the council is finished here,” Liv’s grandmother told her.

“I believe we have a workable plan, then,” Valtteri said. “It may need to change, of course, but this is enough for all of us to move forward.”

One by one, the elders sitting up on the dais nodded their heads.

“You all have a great deal to do,” Aira said. “Best you get to it.” The men and women of the council of elders began to rise, some remaining to speak to each other quietly, others making their way across the chamber to the doors.

Liv’s grandmother rose from her seat, then descended the dais. She embraced her son first, then stepped back to examine his face while holding him by the shoulders.

“We can’t let what happened in the past make us afraid of the future,” she said, quietly. “I’m proud of you, Valtteri. And your father would be, as well, if he were here. Now, let me speak with your daughter before she leaves.”

Valtteri nodded, and Eila released him, only to take Liv by the arm.

“Take a bit to get yourselves ready to travel,” Liv told Rose and Arjun. “I’d like to go to Mountain Home before nightfall, if we can.” Then, she allowed her grandmother to lead her out of the council hall.

Once they were alone, on the platform supported by the great red trunk of a massive tree, Liv spoke. “Thank you,” she said. “For trusting me. For supporting me.”

Eila reached up with one hand and patted Liv’s cheek. “If you can rely on nothing else, dear girl, I want you always to be able to count on your family,” she said. “I hope you aren’t too angry with your father.”

Liv shook her head. “No. I understand why he’s so afraid,” she said. She hesitated, but she had to ask. “Did you foresee all of this?”

Her grandmother laughed. “None of them really understand how Dā works,” she said. “But it is time that you did. Show me your room, Livara. I’d prefer you were sitting down when I help you imprint the word.”