“But, we’re not Joined anymore.” They had not attempted it either since that first night weeks ago.

“No, but the Bond was widened, our minds were—” Aldrik paused, closing his eyes with a soft sigh. “Our minds were linked. It was a reckless thing to do on my part given how little is known about its effects.”

“So, then,” she fumbled, her words struggling to find the source of his discomfort. “Why don’t we close it?”

“Even if we could, I would not.”

“But ...” It seemed to be causing him so much distress, why not end it?

“Because now I can have some measure of security that you will make it through this war alive.”

Vhalla was stunned into silence. She couldn’t take the weight of his gaze and engaged in a quick staring contest with his table. “I know,” she began her confession. “Larel told me about Bonds. That, if I die, you’ll die.”

“That’s just a theory.” Aldrik brushed away the thought easily. “And not by any reputable scholars.”

“But—”

“I want you to worry about yourself.” He sensed the remaining fight in her. “Vhalla, please, promise me that.”

The firelight played tricks on her eyes. It made the man who was nearly seven years her senior look like nothing more than a frightened child. Vhalla moved without thought, taking his hand in hers. Aldrik gripped her fingers tightly, and she erased all thoughts of doubt.

“I will promise you, if you promise me that you will stop running away and hiding these things. I don’t want to feel shut out from you.” Vhalla’s voice had dropped to a whisper, and Aldrik nodded silently, sparing her any further explanation.

“We should practice your Projection.” He broke them out of their trance.

“Oh, right.” Vhalla had completely forgotten they’d actually planned to work together that evening.

“Let’s put magic aside, for now, and focus on seeing how far you can go.” Aldrik situated himself before the table, adjusting his papers.

“Sure,” she closed her eyes.

“Would you care to lay down first?” Aldrik reminded her that her physical body went limp the last time. He grabbed one of the pillows and propped it against his leg.

Vhalla hesitated, the invitation clear. The prince feigned attentiveness to his paperwork, clearly apprehensive of whether she would accept or reject him. Prince Baldair’s words of caution frustratingly replayed themselves in Vhalla’s mind and she lay down quickly, her head resting on his leg. She would not let the younger prince and his games get in her way.

Vhalla slipped out of her body shortly after closing her eyes. It was surreal to see her physical form so still, as if barely breathing. Aldrik watched her closely, waiting for any signs of trouble.

I think it’s easier, Vhalla said with a thought.

“It seems so,” he agreed.

Can you hear me even if I’m far away?

“One way to find out. Go slowly,” he cautioned, but didn’t tell her to stop.

Vhalla passed through the canvas of the tent flap. There was some resistance, but nothing unmanageable. People walked about from one campfire to the next, but no one noticed her.

Can you still hear me?

“Without a problem.” Aldrik seemed excited by her progress, and it encouraged her onward.

She progressed forward in a straight line and discovered that it was only uncomfortable when someone walked through her. It was a strange chill, and the world became disoriented for a moment. But after the third time, Vhalla was beginning to adjust her magic accordingly, recovering faster.

“Are you all right?”

Yes. I’m on the edge of camp now.

“Go a little farther.”

Vhalla walked into the desert until the sun had dipped below the horizon. She called out to him regularly, but the link was consistent and strong. By the time she returned back to her body, there was little question that she’d begun to master the art of Projection.

Returning was simple; she listened for the pulse that had guided her back the first time and let go of her magical hold. But when her real eyes fluttered open Vhalla let out a soft groan at how the world spun.

Aldrik shifted, leaning over her. “What is it?”

“I think my brain is just-just returning slower from the distance.” She wasn’t sure if it made sense. There was a scratching noise, and she saw he was back to making notes. Vhalla struggled to sit.

“Lie down, Vhalla,” he scolded. She returned to her former position, his left hand ran over her hair gently. “You are amazing.” Aldrik’s voice was breathy and he focused on the papers instead of her. Vhalla stared up at him but he seemed to be talking more to himself. “Atop everything else, you will be the key to ending this war.”

“Do you think so?” Vhalla mumbled tiredly.

“I do.” There wasn’t a trace of doubt. “Now rest.”

Vhalla obliged and closed her eyes.

The weeks slipped by like the sand across the dunes. The desert was bleak and empty, but Vhalla’s days were full. Be it at her request or of his own accord, Aldrik recovered quickly from the shock of the effects of their Joining. Privately, he encouraged her to liberally rely on her link with him. He assured her that it did not affect him in any way.

Vhalla was cautious—at first. But the more she allowed that pulsing beat to take over her ears, the stronger and faster she became. It was as though her body was re-learning what it already knew, making every movement sharper and more precise.

Aldrik still rode with Elecia some days, and Vhalla up with the Golden Guard. Prince Baldair seemed pleased by her presence. The more time she spent with the younger prince, the more time she wanted with him in private. She had questions for his cryptic messages and sloppily veiled warnings. She wanted to ask him outright what he knew, what he meant. But their time together never extended beyond the march.

Vhalla’s evenings were spent sweating and pushing her body past its limits at the demands of the elder prince. Vhalla was thankful for the mix of gentle and forceful encouragement from Aldrik and her friends. Her body was beginning to fill out once more, muscle defining in places she had never known it could.

The atmosphere on the march began to shift as they neared the Crossroads. There was a palpable relief among the road-weary and sunburnt soldiers to be close to a resting point.

“How much longer do you think it will be?” Vhalla asked her companions.

“Perhaps a day, maybe two,” Aldrik answered. His attention on her was now a regular occurrence.

“A bed,” Fritz said wistfully.

“A bath,” Vhalla sighed happily at the thought. “There will be water at the Crossroads, right?” The host had been reduced to water rations from the wells that lined the Great Imperial Way in long intervals. None of them had washed for weeks, and Vhalla couldn’t imagine how badly they all smelled to someone who wasn’t accustomed to the stink.

“Of course there will be water,” Larel laughed. “The Crossroads is a magic place, Vhalla. It’s the middle of the world.”

“I can’t wait.” She was genuinely excited after being on the road for so long. “What will you all do first?”

“The first thing I am going to do is drink a Crimson Dragon,” Fritz proclaimed.

“You’re such a drunk,” Larel teased.

“A what?” Vhalla asked.

“A Crimson Dragon is a type of drink,” Aldrik answered from her left. “It is made with Western spiced alcohol, has a sharp taste, and is very strong.”

“I want to try one too, then.” She smiled back at Fritz and the messy-haired Southerner went off planning a grand adventure for the three of them to have. Larel tried to wrangle in his grandiose dreams and the two were bantering back and forth within minutes.

“Vhalla,” Aldrik said in a voice that was meant only for her. She swung her eyes up to him. “There’s something I want to tell you.”