A Queen of Ice (A Trial of Sorcerers #5)

Chapter 9

9

“ P resumptuous.” Eira folded her arms, easing away from the weapons. However curious she might be, she didn’t want to come off too eager and lose any leverage. Even if a part of her recoiled at the idea of using Carsovia’s weapons, she knew better than to rule out a potential advantage over personal scars.

“I know why you are here.” Drogol mirrored her movements and leaned against the case behind him, looking rather confident with himself. “The leadership of Meru has been decimated. Solaris is scrambling with a lone heir on the throne, no doubt inclined to turtle back into the Dark Isle they spent so long hiding on.”

Meru’s status was something she had assumed. But the confirmation was a good thing to have. The news on Solaris was somewhat surprising. So Vi, Vhalla, and Aldrik Solaris had all perished in the blast at the coliseum? That’s what Drogol clearly believed, which meant it was a prevailing rumor. She was skeptical of that but Eira kept silent and allowed him to keep talking, grateful her companions followed her lead.

“Qwint is too nervous about Carsovia to get involved with the other nations again. They’re too small, and outgunned, to fight a war on two fronts.”

It was another suspicion of Eira’s coming to pass. Qwint had involved themselves in the Treaty of Five Kingdoms for the sake of having an alliance that would make them look strong to their aggressive neighbors. But now that the treaty had dissolved, they risked retaliation on Carsovia’s part for their boldness. That, combined with the inability to fight a war on two fronts, meant that Qwint wouldn’t support Meru against the Pillars out of fear of Carsovia seizing it as an opportunity to strike while their forces were stretched thin.

“You’re saying that without assurances or improvements in Qwint’s military might, they won’t be of any help to us,” Eira summed up the point she assumed him to be guiding them to.

“You pick things up quickly.” Drogol smirked.

“And this master of yours is going to help tip the scales in Qwint’s favor,” Eira continued voicing her assumptions when he didn’t proffer any other information.

“Her name is Allun. She’s a master of the runic arts. Her theories led to the creation of the pistol. A smaller flashfire, able to be held in one hand. But one that is so powerful it could tear through any magic force, any shield, any wall—even those reinforced by runes.”

A tool that was likely to be invaluable to get to Ulvarth, when the time came. A tool that, when combined with Eira’s natural inclinations and Adela’s teachings, could make her unstoppable…especially if the crew—or Yonlin—could disassemble it and learn the machinations behind the magic.

Runic magic was still largely a mystery to her. She’d gathered the broad strokes from Lavette and Varren. But Carsovia seemed to have their own approach to the power, tangling with forces beyond the spinning bracelets of Qwint.

“Where is Allun?” Eira asked.

“Carsovia.”

A wave of nausea crashed against the back of her throat at the word. At the implication that she was going to have to go back there. Eira swallowed hard and ignored the whispers in the back of her mind that sounded once more like Noelle.

“She had been making her way here, but unfortunately was intercepted in a distant town. She’s too valuable to be kept there, though. Now that they know what— who she is, they’ll move her to the golden city—the capital. While she’s being transported you’ll have an opportunity to liberate her.”

“Does she want to be liberated?” Eira asked, remembering the woman in the mines who had been ready to turn Eira in for the opportunity to return to her old life serving the empress.

“Above all else, Allun is a magical scholar. Carsovia throttles her ambitions with their unending attempts to dictate what she should, and should not, pursue and how. She is not their tool; she is a marvel.” Given his almost glassy-eyed endorsement of the woman, Drogol’s loyalties couldn’t be questioned. If he was telling the truth, she was certainly a force worth having on their side. “If you bring her here, Qwint will respect her talents. She will become their secret weapon—unbridled.”

Ambition unbridled wasn’t always a good thing. But the long-term ramifications of this would fall on Qwint, not her. It’d be up to them how they’d want to manage this new ally. But having such an ally could be the key to Eira getting what she needed—beyond a fancy pistol.

“So, how do we get to her?”

Olivin glanced at her from the corners of his eyes when she said this. But continued holding his tongue.

“That’ll be made clear tomorrow morning when you are brought to the Hall of Ministers once more.” Drogol pushed away from the case and closed the drawer, locking it. “Do this for me, and you’ll not only get the first ever pistol, but you will also gain an ally that will be able to outfit your ships and crews for years to come.”

Eira gave a slight nod and followed behind him, leading the three of them, as they left the secret back room of weapons. With a simple goodbye, Drogol left them at the doorway of his home, retreating into the shadows as they were once more engulfed by the bustle of the market.

The night air wafted through the chiffon curtains of her room. Eira’s quarters at one point had been an office, but a large sofa served as a suitable bed. Not that she seemed to be able to use it for such.

She’d spent the better portion of the night pacing with a book in her hands. She was skimming as many of the tomes that Lavette’s father had kept as she could, keen to learn all she could about Qwint. But even as she scanned the pages eagerly, her mind wandered elsewhere, time and again.

Eira returned the latest book to the shelf with a sigh and rubbed her eyes. Come morning, she’d task Alyss with the reading. The woman could get through a book, cover to cover, faster than Eira could read a couple chapters.

Tonight, her mind was too occupied with other questions that all revolved around who, exactly, was Drogol? Just a refugee from Carsovia looking to be reunited with his master? Or someone more? He seemed to know a lot about Eira…

She bit the nail of her thumb in thought.

He had to have accomplices. He’d already let it be known that he had allies in the Hall of Ministers pulling strings. But there had to be more. How else could he have known she was going to stumble upon his stall? No… Drogol hadn’t left that to chance. There had to have been people hiding in plain sight in the market, guiding them back toward that secluded corner. It’s what she would do if she had the means and intention of meeting someone.

Did he have a network? Only here on Qwint? Or perhaps beyond?

It made Allun seem all the more important.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. Eira was already on her way to the door so it only took a second for her to open it, revealing Cullen.

“I saw the light through the crack.” He glanced down at their feet and then back up, somewhat expectantly. “May I come in?”

“Always.” Eira wondered if he had been kept up thinking about the events of the evening, too.

Cullen closed the door behind him. “Are you all right?”

“I still can’t decide on the extent of his network.” She launched right into her theories, feet and hands moving as quickly as her hushed words. “Is he a pirate? Is he a double agent? But that pistol, if it’s genuine, it could be invaluable to get to Ulvarth—we already know he has people who have skills in the runic magics. There was that mention of something about armor at the Hall of Ministers, also? Whether that’s important or not, we shouldn’t face him unprepared, and fighting runes with runes might be our best bet. I know going into Carsovia would be a risk, but it’s a calculated?—”

“It’s not our fight,” Cullen interrupted with a small step forward. “Carsovia, Qwint, they’re not our fight.”

“But—”

“Either you are a citizen of Solaris or a pirate. Neither is responsible for what happens here.” Cullen closed the gap between them and rested his hands on her shoulders, sliding them down to her hands, lacing his fingers with hers. “I came to see how you are.”

“It is our fight,” Eira objected, pointedly ignoring the second half. “Anything that can help us bring down Ulvarth is our fight.”

“I want to take him down as much as you do—so let’s go and get him and not waste any more time here. Qwint will do as it pleases. Your place is on the seas.”

The thought had crossed Eira’s mind. That any portion of their excursion here beyond dropping off Lavette and Varren and restocking was a waste of time. But…

“I want to use Qwint as a distraction on Meru, when the time comes,” she admitted, barely more than a whisper. “If we can get them to stay aligned with Solaris and any remnants of Meru’s leadership, then the three nations can make a focused attack on Ulvarth’s forces, engaging them and drawing their focus. If we can coordinate it for when we arrive at Risen?—”

“The chaos that ensues will give you time to maneuver into Ulvarth’s inner circle,” Cullen realized.

Eira nodded. “Ulvarth’s eyes will be on them, while I’m focused on him.”

Cullen squeezed her fingers, looking down at their interlocked hands. “Regardless, I don’t think you should return to that place.”

“I’ll be all right,” she assured him gently. “Qwint won’t help Solaris without the additional support of Allun—assuming she’s that good. They’ll need some assurance to divide their forces.”

“You are strong enough with just Solaris and Meru,” Cullen encouraged.

“I appreciate your faith.” She genuinely did. “But if I am to end this, I need to do all I can to stack the deck in my favor.”

His eyes searched her face. She could see him chewing over his words with the tension in his jaw.

“Eira… I saw you in that back room, the moment you saw the flashfires.” The instant he said those words, Eira wanted to withdraw her hands from his as if she could withdraw from her weaknesses. “If we are to use Qwint to achieve our goals, then let us. But I don’t think it should be at the expense of your well-being.”

“The only thing that matters for my well-being is seeing Ulvarth dead.” She tried to pour every bit of spite into the words so he knew just how serious she was.

“That’s not true.”

“But it is.” She locked eyes with his, not looking away. Unflinching. Unyielding. “All I care about is ending him.”

“Eira, you are many, many things—don’t sacrifice them all merely for the sake of bringing down Ulvarth.” There was a hint of caution, and sorrow, to his words.

“I’m not backing away from this fight.” If she did, how could she ever claim to be worthy of Adela’s legacy?

“Nor should you,” Cullen said hastily. “But…”

“But?” she encouraged when it was clear he was going to leave the notion hanging.

“You have so much around you. Be a pirate. Go sailing. Make the world yours. Why bother with these political schemes?” His words were gentle, almost timid, as if he were afraid he’d scare her from the conversation if he pushed too hard. He was right. Yet he persisted anyway.

“Rich of you to suggest ignoring political schemes.”

“I changed.” Cullen shrugged.

She couldn’t argue that … “I’ll have time to terrorize the seas under Adela’s banner later. Ulvarth comes first.”

“If you sacrifice all you are simply for the sake of ending him, then he still wins.”

“Noelle sacrificed all she was.”

“That wasn’t because of Ulvarth?—”

“If not for him, we wouldn’t have been there.” Eira pulled her hands from his, turning away from Cullen—from the truth she’d so readily ignored. If not for him, I wouldn’t have pushed us so hard. Noelle would still be alive , were the words that burned her lips, ignited by the fire consuming her chest. Ulvarth had claimed her brother. Her friend. And countless others. “My mind is made up. I’m doing this, no matter what.”

“Then…just know what you’re willing to sacrifice.”

“Everything,” she said without hesitation.

“Everything?” he repeated in disbelief. “Your place with Adela, sailing freely? Your friends? Us?”

“Everything,” she repeated. But this time she was slightly less confident, though she didn’t let it show in her voice or posture. In the following silence, Eira slowly turned, looking over her shoulder.

There was that expression again, that wounded look. That heartbreak. What else could he expect? He had been there when Noelle died. He knew that the blame ultimately came to Eira, and Ulvarth, and the deadly web she’d ensnared them all in by getting roped in through Ferro now years ago.

“She wouldn’t have wanted that,” Cullen whispered. “She would’ve wanted you to go on and live freely.”

The words stung. He means well , Eira reminded herself to keep from lashing out in reply. She gathered herself, allowing the conversation to wither on the vine in silence. Then, she calmly said, “As long as Ulvarth draws breath, I will never be free. Now, goodnight, Cullen.”

“Eira—” He moved for her.

“Goodnight.” She stood her ground.

Cullen froze, searched her face one last time, opened and shut his mouth, then left without another word.

She cursed under her breath and ran a hand through her hair. What he was asking of her—suggesting… She couldn’t just leave this be. To not do everything in her power to bring down Ulvarth, no matter the cost, would be an insult to Noelle and Marcus. It would forever be a stain on her own legacy to allow her enemies to thrive. Adela certainly wouldn’t. If it were Adela, she’d freeze Ulvarth and all who harbored his ilk and hold them as eternal statues as a warning to the world. Eira couldn’t simply sail away like Cullen suggested. How could she inspire fear in anyone ever again if she did?

“He doesn’t understand.” Olivin stole the words directly from her mind. Eira whirled in place. He leaned against the doorway that Eira had opened to let in the cool night air. She hadn’t even heard a whisper of his presence. Though, that shouldn’t surprise her. Olivin was a better Shadow than she had ever been. “He can’t. He hasn’t lost like you and I have.”

Eira gave a slight nod. Part of her agreed. But she’d seen Cullen’s distant stare after finding no word of his father. Felt his pain, as palpable as her own, following Noelle. Before that, even, he’d lost the identity he’d built around himself like an impenetrable fortress.

He’d lost, hadn’t he? It just looked different … Yet, she couldn’t get the words out before Olivin spoke again.

“Sorry for listening in.” Olivin pushed away from the door and took a step into the room. “I had been coming to visit you, seeing as every room is connected by way of the balcony and Yonlin snores…and I promised you I’d find some time alone with you.”

Eira huffed lightly in amusement at the implication of that .

“He was already here when I approached and, well…” Olivin shrugged, not looking guilty in the slightest.

Eira sighed. “It’s fine. There wasn’t anything particularly intimate about that conversation.”

“Are you often intimate with him?” Olivin paused his movements. He was impossible to read.

“Is that jealousy?” Her tone was playful but she genuinely sought the answer. If it was, then her time to explore options was coming to an end.

“Hardly. Nothing more than curiosity.” Olivin seemed genuine enough. Eira relaxed.

“I’m intimate with him when it pleases me,” Eira answered somewhat coyly. Then her tone turned serious once more. “He knows me, parts of me from my past that are even hard for me to explain or understand now, as the woman I am.”

Olivin shrugged and stepped forward. “I care little for who knows your past; what I want to know is your future.” He took another step. Suddenly, the distance between them was compressed into almost nothing. His sharp blue eyes never left hers. Every movement was graceful, almost deadly. “A future that I still want to be a part of.”

“Is that so?” Eira pointedly asked. “And what does this future look like?”

Olivin’s palm landed on her face, firm. Demanding with only a touch. “Paradise. Revelries and power. A new world order beyond simply sailing wherever the wind blow us. We will be the headwind, the north star, the aspiration and the envy.”

“I could grow accustomed to power.” Eira tilted her head, looking up through her lashes.

“You should be well accustomed as it is, given your might.” There was nothing but admiration in his eyes.

“It’s not enough.” To defeat Ulvarth, she still needed to become so much more.

“Then I look forward to seeing what you will become.” Olivin’s arm snaked around her waist, his scent and heat overwhelming. The way he looked at her now crashed upon her like the hottest day of summer, the temperature of her core rising. Nearly unbearable. “I will have you, if you’ll let me.”

“I am yours for the taking.”

No sooner had she whispered the words, he spun her, pushing her up against a bookcase. One hand on her waist, his hips pressing against hers. The other on her face, thumb dragging across her lips before he claimed them and the rest of the world vanished, taking her former worries with it. It was like the first gasp after emerging from beneath the waves. It was a crack that ripped through her body, trembling through her. He kissed her deeply, passionately, as if trying to scare away all the panicked thoughts that had threatened to consume her for weeks.

Escape with me , every shift of his mouth seemed to whisper. Let me take you far from here—far from your body .

Eira’s muscles relaxed and she eased farther into him. Without warning, he pulled away, looking right through her. A sly smirk slid across his lips. Perhaps…she had been the one to say those words—to think them, will them into existence.

“Eira—”

“I don’t want to be able to walk straight, never mind speak or think,” she whispered, words ragged.

“Good.”

Hands frantic, clothing suddenly far too cumbersome for either of their liking, they grabbed and pulled until there was nothing left that would keep them apart. Olivin pushed her up, her rear sliding over the wide counter-shelf a third of the way up the bookcase. He traced her lips with his fingers, then the outlines of her curves.

Tremors rippled through her in anticipation. Her skin flushed. The space between them collapsed with a gasp that wrapped into a moan. This was it…what she’d been waiting for. That blissful mindlessness that smothered all other worries and fears.

For the rest of the night, Eira allowed herself to trade her worries for passion, escaping the thoughts that continued to gnaw a hole in her chest, unbidden.