“We will try again.” He kissed the top of her head. “When we are wed, when I have my throne. That is when our child will be born. And when that day comes, this night will be nothing more than a forgotten nightmare.”

 She needed his optimism. Her head was thick and heavy. Vhalla suspected the potion Elecia forced down her throat had been laced with Deep Sleep, but the cleric knew best. She closed her eyes, and Vhalla gave herself to that welcoming blackness.

 The bed was cold, and dawn hovered in the morning air when Vhalla finally stirred. She heard Aldrik’s voice from the adjacent room, the sound pulling her the rest of the way from sleep.

 “How did you find her?”

 “She just appeared in the night,” Elecia responded.

 Vhalla blinked groggily, the Deep Sleep slow to release her mind.

 “She said she went to a curiosity shop. Jax, I want every last one in this Gods forsaken city turned up-side-down with the most discretion you can manage. If even one confesses any knowledge, I want to know everything. And—” Aldrik’s voice dripped acidic malice off his tongue. “—should you find one that laid a finger upon her . . .”

 “No one will ever find the body,” Jax filled in the blank with methodological viciousness.

 Vhalla shook her head, pulling herself into a seated position. Vi was long gone. Whatever that woman was, it was nothing like any of them had ever seen, and there was no way she had remained. Still, there was little point in trying to call Aldrik off on his demands. Vhalla was happy to concede to them if it pleased him and eased his pain.

 “Now, Fritz, she claims this is a vessel.”

 “It-it does feel like her magic,” Fritz confirmed with evident surprise.

 “I already told you that.” Elecia’s eye roll was heard by Vhalla from the other room.

 “You will help withdraw the magic so her Channel can be restored.”

 “I’ve never—”

 “I am not asking you, Fritznangle, I am telling you as your Emperor.”

 Vhalla rubbed her abdomen. She needed to get up and call off her protective love before he made an ass of himself to their friends.

 “But not yet,” Elecia said firmly. “I see what you are doing.”

 “Elecia—” Aldrik warned.

 “No. You are trying to fix it all and force it back to where it is comfortable for you. But you cannot force her. Her body is healing. This isn’t a battle scar, and it’s not going to be fixed when we don’t see blood anymore. You are healing, too.”

 “Aldrik,” Vhalla called.

 “Vhalla, what is it?” The doors were thrown open, and he rushed to her side. “What hurts?”

 “I woke, and you weren’t here.” She tried to force a small smile.

 “I was only taking care of a few things, my love. I’m here. I’m with you.”

 “Stay,” Vhalla demanded.

 Aldrik’s hair was a mess, and his eyes looked sunken. Somehow, his face had become gaunter in one night. Elecia’s advice to Aldrik hit Vhalla’s heart. They were both hurting, and that hurt would only be soothed by being together and letting themselves be sad.

 Elecia came in as Aldrik situated himself next to her. She had clearly spent some of the night acquiring and preparing a new flight of potions for Vhalla to ingest. As the healer was leaving, Aldrik requested that she find a book for them to read.

 Vhalla wondered if he had known what she needed to feel better. Or if, somehow in his own turmoil, he needed the same things as she. They spent the day tucked together, ignoring the world.

 Aldrik didn’t even part from her when it came time to bathe again. He sent Elecia away, announcing that he would do it himself. Vhalla tried to avoid either of them helping her, but her attempts were futile.

 “I can do it myself,” she insisted. “I don’t need you.”

 “You’re right, you don’t need me. But I want to help you.” He guided her to the steaming bathwater.

 “Aldrik, you don’t want to do this, it’s. . . very messy.” She had more eloquent words to describe the situation, but she didn’t use them. Clarity and eloquence bred heartbreak for her as they laid out neatly the situation she was in.

 “Blood does not scare me.” Aldrik begun undressing her.

 Vhalla grabbed his wrist. Tears of frustration and anger welled up in the corners of her eyes. Every word was trapped in her throat with no hope of freedom.

 “If you want me to go,” he whispered. “Tell me plainly. Tell me to leave your side, and I will.”

 She shook her head. She didn’t want him gone. She needed his presence and his love just as he seemed to need hers. The emotion persisted even when his hands washed away the blood that slicked her thighs.

 The distance in his eyes eased as the days passed. The only time pain showed was when he focused on the sight of her barren neck. But Aldrik didn’t speak of it, and Vhalla didn’t force the issue. She could apologize and make excuses until the world ended. But it wouldn’t change anything.

 The only thing that mildly helped was the day that Elecia deemed her healed enough to attempt recovering her magic from the vessel. It reminded them both that, despite what Vhalla had given up, hopefully something was gained.

 “All right, Vhal,” Fritz began. “There isn’t much here. It should—should—be enough to have a Vessel to start calling to magic through your Channel. But you’ll need to withdraw every last bit of magic, to be certain.”

 “Might it not work?” Vhalla asked nervously.

 “If there’s not enough to unblock your Channel, the magic will just fizzle the first time you try to use it.”

 “How do I withdraw it?” She didn’t allow herself to be scared. There wasn’t any other option but success.

 “I’ll help you,” Fritz encouraged. “You hold it and imagine the watch is your Channel. Feel it, know it, and welcome it into you.” He curled her fingers around the watch and grasped her hand. “I’ll help push the magic out, help it move towards you.”

 Vhalla nodded, nerves stilling her tongue.

 “Are you ready?” He continued at her small nod, “Here it goes . . .”

 He closed his eyes, and Vhalla did the same. Just like the very first time she had ever tried to use her magic, Vhalla imagined something just beyond herself, and tried to touch it. The world didn’t rebuild magic on a whim, nor did she feel a whisper of sorcery on the wind. There was only a subtle tingling in her fingertips.

 Vhalla guarded her every hope. She felt as though she was on the edge and only needed one more good push to hold everything in her grasp. Her breathing echoed in her ears as she mentally reached for the truth the watch held.

 She was the Windwalker. She would fill up the hollow that had been carved from her, fill it up with a new future.

 “Vhalla, enough.” Fritz released her fist. “Don’t push too hard now.”

 “But you said get it all.” Her eyes fluttered open.