feebleness, would be broken by the trials of war. Disappointments, the lot of them; now here we are.”
“Why do you want me dead? I never did anything to you!”
“You existed!” the senator snarled. “No, it’s worse than that. You let your existence be known. You, you didn’t stay put. They should’ve never let you out of the East.”
“What do you know?” Vhalla whispered.
“I know you will be the death of us all.” It seemed to be the most level thing he’d said and for that it was all the more terrifying. “I know, I know better than any what you are capable of.”
“How?”
“I sought wisdom that was never meant for mortal men, and I traded my magic for it. No one else will pay that price, and now I am the only one who can protect our world.”
“You’re mad,” Vhalla breathed. Something was seriously broken within the Head of Senate. A god-complex, a power-hungry madman, a deranged lunatic stood before her and affirmed it with every word.
“I am the only one of us who isn’t.” Egmun frowned.
“So why don’t you kill me now then?”
“You’ve made yourself untouchable.” The Head of Senate finally took a step away. “You’ve powers that I cannot compete with. You’ve put a spell over the people. You’ve crawled into bed with a prince.”
Vhalla clenched her fists and grit her teeth.
“And now you’ll return to the Tower to study under the puppet-master of those powers that be.” Egmun shook his head, starting in the opposite direction. “I have only one final thing I could try.”
Vhalla braced herself for an attack. She readied for an ambush, for Egmun to turn and lunge for her. But the senator only glanced over his shoulder, his eyes glittering with crazed and broken amusement.
“Ask yourself, Vhalla Yarl. . . Ask yourself, is your life worth more than this world?”
With that, the senator departed.
Long after he’d vanished, Vhalla contemplated the hall where he had disappeared. She took a step, stumbling over her feet and leaning against the wall for support. She was shaken down to her soul. Egmun, her most hated entity in the world, had shown her an emotion she didn’t know he’d had: compassion. Not for her, but for the people of the Empire.
She gripped the saddlebag with white knuckles, holding an axe that could sever souls. Another piece fell clearly into her mind as Vhalla realized she’d just succeeded in bringing the last crystal weapon back to the South, nearly back to the land of the Crystal Caverns.
The North had just been the battle. There was a much greater struggle at play here, and people had yet to show their true hands. The war still raged on.
A LL THINGS CONSIDERED , Vhalla hadn’t really spoken much with the Head of Senate. But it seemed every time she did, the impression was destined to linger, and Egmun’s words repeated in Vhalla’s mind, imprinting themselves as she made her way for the bottom entry of the Tower of Sorcerers. She clutched the saddlebag, her fingers tracing the outlines of its stitching in thought. Egmun .
Egmun had been the Minister of Sorcery, and then something changed. He said he had traded his magic; was it taken from him somehow? If so, by what? Vhalla’s mind went down every dark path when thinking of the Senator and came up with a memory that wasn’t even hers, of Egmun egging on a boy Aldrik to commit his first murder.
The questions circled like a tornado, faster and faster, until all other thoughts were destroyed by their repetition. Vhalla pushed open the door for the Tower of Sorcerers, completely absorbed in trying to recall every word she’d ever written in her journal on Aldrik and deeply wishing she’d taken it with her from Gianna’s. It took her five steps to notice she wasn’t alone.
The large, circular lobby was filled with people, as it had been the last time she’d been there. But now they weren’t wearing armor, and there wasn’t the tension of dread. Hope glittered in every flame
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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