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

Chapter 18

18

T he pain was almost sweet. The dull ache, though incredibly uncomfortable, especially when she moved, was tempered by the surges of magic that rushed through her—filling her to the brim. It made her strong enough to walk back to Lavette’s home. It also made her powers more volatile than they had been in years. Water dripped from her fingertips without warning. Her footsteps left frost behind. She was left to shake snow from her hair as they ascended the stairs.

Olivin asked her twice how she was. The second time, Eira emphasized that she’d never been better, despite what her erratic displays of magic might suggest. She felt like she could make the world hers. Any drains on her magic were little more than murmurs in the back of her mind.

She felt confident enough that upon arriving she summoned everyone to the common room. Despite it being the middle of the night, they all obliged, albeit somewhat confused.

“Ducot, may I see Noelle’s ring again?” It was going to work this time; she was certain of it.

He didn’t hesitate before sliding it off his pinky finger and handing it to her. His willingness to indulge her didn’t stop him from quipping, “Does the frost polish it?”

“Something like that…” Eira balled it in her fist once more, allowing her magic to swell around it.

But, this time, she didn’t merely apply a brute force of power. Adela had been training her to focus on the currents of power. The way they ebbed and flowed. There is a way in which you sense these echoes , she had said. You pick up on the innate magic that has been imprinted on the unintentional vessel. Find it. Use it .

Eira did just that. She allowed her magic to swirl around the ring and pick up on the power within it. Power that now rode the waves of her own. A haze of frost began to cloud the air around her fist.

The echo reverberated in her ears. But none of her friends reacted. Not quite right , Eira chided herself and adjusted. The power needed to be shared with them. She had to use the tide of her magic to guide the echo to them.

A chill swept through the room, dragging shivers up the spines of her friends. The moment it reached them, Eira could sense their raw essence. For a frozen second, they were adrift in the same ocean she perpetually existed within.

Eira brought the echo to the fore once more.

Yes, almost ready. Too much with the necklace? Maybe? No. Ugh, I hate these ribbons. There. Better. All right, I’m ready!

The power vanished with the last of Noelle’s words, taking the chill with it. Eira met the wide, shocked stares of her friends. The parted lips and soft gasps. But none were louder in their silence than Ducot. Tears shone where they collected in the corners of his eyes.

“That…that was her,” he whispered.

Eira returned the ring to his palm, curling his fingers around it. “It was.”

“You— How?”

“It’s something Adela and I have been working on.” She smiled. Exhaustion was hitting her all at once. Perhaps she hadn’t been feeling as good as she’d thought and had merely been running on enthusiasm. Or the effort had taken more from her than she’d realized. Either way, Eira felt about ready to keel over. Not that she wanted to show it, though. The last thing she’d display would be some kind of weakness that would give her friends a reason to worry. “I thought I could share the little bit of her that we still had with you all.”

Ducot clutched her hands tightly and whispered, “Thank you.”

“It is my pleasure.” Eira eased away. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, the day has been long.” She didn’t miss their murmurs as realization settled in of what she’d just done. An echo had never been played aloud before and Eira wanted to lie down before they could trap her with questions.

Eira shut the door to her room and heaved a sigh, nearly collapsing. She barely had the strength to stagger over to her makeshift bed before falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

The next morning was a complete about-face from the evening prior. One good night’s rest and her strength was back and better than ever. As Eira dressed for the day, her clothes were suddenly soaking wet, then frozen, then completely dry as a mist filled the room, water releasing with a particularly aggressive shake.

Eira stopped to take a breath when she’d finished stuffing her pack. Her exhale was part snow. The room whispered to her with little more than an errant thought. The oscillation of power was something she’d need to temper. But time and practice would sort that. A bit of additional focus on her control was nothing compared to all the benefits the rune had offered her.

Ulvarth wouldn’t recognize her when she stepped foot on Meru again. He didn’t have any idea what was coming for him.

Massaging the center of her chest one last time, Eira slung her pack over her shoulder and strode from the study that had been her bedroom while in Qwint. But her reflection in the polished silver of a decorative crest on the wall gave her pause. Eira leaned in and plucked a strand of hair that curved around the side of her face.

It was stark white.

Not platinum blonde. White. Eira turned her head, trying to get a better look, but her eyes didn’t lie.

Odd .

Eira tucked the strand behind her ear, trying to pull the rest over it. She didn’t want to answer questions. Or give Olivin more fodder to worry for her. There was no space for her to project anything but strength.

With nothing but confidence in her mind, Eira entered the main room.

“Are you all ready?” she asked, seeing her friends loading up their own shoulders in the main room.

“More than,” Ducot said, speaking for the entire crew.

Eira shifted, facing Lavette and Varren. Their shoulders were bare, arms free of supplies. “I’d ask if you’re sure you want to stay, but I’ve no doubt you are.”

A tired smile crossed Varren’s lips. “If I ever leave Qwint again, I think it will be too soon.”

“What will you do now?” Alyss asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“I actually enjoyed helping Lavette in the Hall of Ministers.” Varren looked fondly in the other woman’s direction. “I think, if I’m lucky, she’ll take me on as her aide when she becomes a minister herself.”

“That is far off,” Lavette said, though Eira expected she didn’t actually believe as much.

Her suspicions seemed further confirmed when Varren added, “Elections will be held again in a year and I am sure if you ran, you would win.”

“There is never such certainty.”

“Spoken like a true politician.” Varren’s tone was nothing but admiration. Lavette rolled her eyes, which was contrasted by the affectionate nudge she gave him. “Well, whenever you decide to run, I will be here.”

Eira had no doubt he was going to make good on that claim. She could already imagine him living out his days in the comfort and safety of the impressive walls that surrounded the city. Probably on the balcony that she’d first admired Qwint from, if his future with Lavette unfolded as she suspected it might.

“And I would be honored.” Lavette adjusted the sleeves on her checkered coat. Even though she wasn’t yet a minister, she was already dressing for the job, practically a walking flag. On just about anyone else, it would come off as insincere. Pandering to the masses whose support she needed to consolidate power. But on Lavette, after all Eira had learned about the woman, the garb looked natural. That was who she was meant to be, what she was meant to do. “We should get you down to the docks before any of the ministers change their mind about what to do with you.”

“Lead the way.” Eira nodded.

Lavette escorted them down the many flights of stairs. They were much easier descending this morning than ascending last night following her inking. Eira was immediately behind Lavette, then Varren, then the rest trailing behind. When they emerged onto the street, everyone had a little more breathing room and fanned out a bit.

But Lavette stayed at Eira’s side. It didn’t take long for her to speak again. “I trust you will not forget the kindness Qwint has showed you.”

“Threatening to kill me or use me as leverage, sending me into hostile territory to do their dirty work for them, plotting to maneuver me into a situation where I cannot win… The kindness will linger.” Even though the words were a bit harsh, Eira flashed Lavette a smug grin.

Lavette shook her head and muttered under her breath, “Bloody pirates.”

Eira couldn’t stop a laugh. “Listen, I know why your people did as they did. Honestly, I can’t much blame them for it. And they’re letting me leave without further issue, so I think I’ll let it slide this time.”

“You’re going to be unbearable, aren’t you?”

“Going to be?” Eira thought she was already fairly unbearable.

“When you inherit her ship.” Even though there was no one immediately around them, they were on an occupied street, and Lavette knew better than to say Adela’s name, or Stormfrost , outright.

“Probably,” Eira agreed. “Though we’ve some time until that happens.”

“But it will come.” Lavette’s focus dropped to the box tucked under Eira’s arm. Eira took it as a good sign that there wasn’t any shift to her chest, assuming it to mean that the rune couldn’t be sensed. “I think we all have gotten what we want out of this arrangement.”

“This wasn’t exactly a gift from Qwint.”

“Not confiscating it was.”

“Does anyone know but you?” Eira arched her brows and phrased her question carefully. She wasn’t entirely certain whether Lavette knew what she was carrying or just could make a good guess, given what Allun’s skills were and Eira’s absence the night before.

“Not as of yet.” Lavette’s smile bordered on smug. “And they won’t so long as you keep goodwill toward us.”

“Seems like a steep price for such a small thing.” Eira kept her tone light, but allowed a weight to sneak into her words. The life ahead of her was hopefully still long. And, if it was anything like her life so far, would be filled with unexpected twists. The last thing Eira wanted to do was narrow down her options. She saw how well that was working out with Adela promising to leave Meru alone.

“Well, perhaps there could be more ‘small things’ in the future to keep garnering your favor.” Lavette shrugged. “I hear Qwint recently became the residence of an exceptionally talented runesmith. I’d imagine we soon will have many things that could assist you on your… adventures .”

So this was how it was going to be… Lavette was ready to provide weapons to the Pirate Queen Adela for the sake of sparing her people from having another enemy on the seas. Well knowing that those same weapons would be turned against the people that she’d claim to have alliances with. If there was one thing Eira could say she had confidently learned during her time in Qwint, it was that they were so worried about Carsovia they would do whatever it took to avoid having enemies on two fronts. Useful knowledge to tuck away.

“Then I think we should see how this friendship of ours continues to unfold, wouldn’t you say?” Lavette said with a slight smile.

“I say I look forward to it.” Somehow, she sounded sincere. Despite the uncomfortable introduction they’d first had, the unfortunate circumstances they’d originally got to know each other under…they’d formed something that resembled a friendship. No…perhaps that word was too familiar. An understanding, at the very least.

They were both women of action, charting their own courses. And while Lavette’s choice in path of navigating politics appealed to Eira about as much as returning to the Pillars’ pit, she could understand it. She, too, had a destiny she sought to forge and—Eira glanced over her shoulder, back at her friends—people she wanted to protect.

With a few quick steps, Olivin came up. Just as Eira had been about to say that she hadn’t been intending to summon him, his focus fell solely on Lavette.

“So, what will you do now?” Olivin asked her.

“Help my people, as I’m able. Try to piece together the remnants of my life with the new pieces fate has handed me.” The remarks were made lightly, but Eira suspected they were anything but.

“Is it daunting?” Olivin seemed genuinely curious.

“In some ways…exciting in others.”

The two conversed for the entire length of their walk. Eira was content to be a silent observer. Olivin seemed particularly keen to learn the future of Qwint, and Eira took a moment to be grateful to have someone at her side who was so willing to learn about the political landscapes of ports she would likely have to navigate around in the future. A future fleet master, indeed , she mused.

Crow was waiting for them at the docks, the dagger Eira had entrusted to her when they arrived in hand. Eira was all too grateful to have the blade strapped to her thigh once more. Crow had been sleeping on the boat, guarding it. Eira suspected it was more that the woman found being on dry land for more than a day or two utterly unpalatable. The prospect of getting out of port must’ve had her bursting with excitement as the entire vessel had been scrubbed from top to bottom.

There were a few ministers who had come to the docks to see them off, but it wasn’t a grand affair. Intentionally so, Eira suspected. The last thing they wanted was to invite questions about what Adela’s rumored bastard daughter had been doing in Qwint, and why they were just letting her leave.

“I’d say keep safe,” Lavette said as she and Varren followed them alone down the docks to the ship, the other ministers electing to hang back. “But I know you all won’t.”

“You’re right about that.” Eira held out her hand.

“Don’t forget all we’ve spoken of.” Lavette clasped it firmly.

“I won’t. We both have obligations to uphold,” Eira said, earning a curious glance from Varren. Neither she nor Lavette bothered to explain. He had the sense not to ask.

“Good luck with the Pillars.”

“Good luck with the next election.” Given all that Lavette had said about the systems in Qwint, Eira suspected she needed luck more. At least killing a man was straightforward.

The gangplank beckoned. As Eira ascended, frost coated her fingertips in anticipation. She could already feel the currents shifting beneath the hull as though her control was upon it.

The others said their goodbyes to Lavette and Varren, one by one. Eira noticed Alyss slip something into Varren’s pocket when she hugged him.

“What was that?” Eira kept her voice hushed as she continued to review the rigging. It gave her a good vantage to see most of the goodbyes.

“A bit of encouragement.” Alyss winked. “I don’t think he’ll ever do it on his own.”

“Do what?”

“Come now, you’re not that dense.” Alyss grinned. “You know he pines for her.”

“ Ah ,” Eira huffed softly. “That he does.”

“I told him to take it from me and just tell her. Love stories don’t start until you let them.” Alyss shrugged and went belowdecks, no doubt to unload her things.

The sentiment brought Eira back to the goodbyes, the last person who lingered—Cullen. Love stories don’t start until you let them , Eira repeated to herself. Was that what she had been doing with him and Olivin? Initially, she’d like to think not…but now?

Her chest ached again, and Eira suspected that this time it had little to do with the still healing wound.

“I wish things had been different between us,” Cullen said softly to Lavette. Eira kept her head down, but didn’t stop herself from straining her ears to listen.

“I don’t,” Lavette said with a bright and airy laugh. Eira dared an outright look at Cullen to see how he took that. He couldn’t hide the flash of hurt from his eyes. Lavette rested a hand on his shoulder and said reassuringly, “We weren’t made for each other. Maybe, in a different place, or time. But you didn’t know what you wanted, then. And when you had the space to decide, well…it was never going to be me.” And Lavette didn’t sound wounded about it in the slightest.

“You’re probably right.”

Eira shamelessly looked at Cullen outright. She’d never heard him sound like that. She’d never seen that easy smile or tilt to his shoulders as he shifted his weight. It had been weeks, months. She had held him, kissed him, but had she really stopped to look at him? Hear him?

I want to see if the man I become is someone worthy of you. If I can make you fall in love with me all over again . That was what he’d said, wasn’t it? More or less? The words felt like a lifetime ago now.

Who was the man he was now, and had she been paying attention?

Her thoughts had muffled the rest of the conversation. So Eira blinked with surprise as everything returned to focus solely on Cullen. Lavette and Varren were halfway down the docks, returning to their new, old life. And he just stood there, smiling up at her. In that little curl of his lips she saw shades of the man who had taken her to Court, who had shined so brightly. And the outline of the man who had shattered her heart.

A thousand questions swelled in her like the tide and Eira didn’t know if the answers circled like sharks or shone like a clear sky.

“Permission to come aboard, Captain?” Cullen arched his brows, as if, somehow, he saw the swirling uncertainty.

For a second, she nearly told him no. How much simpler would it be if she had just cut him out of her life, then and there?

“Permission granted,” Eira said.

Cullen ascended the gangplank and halted right as he had been about to step around her. Without a word, he reached up. Eira’s brows furrowed, trying to make sense of what he was reaching for. His fingers hooked on the strand of hair she’d tucked behind her ear that morning and promptly forgotten about. Tugging lightly, he freed the streak of white.

“What’s this?” The question was unreadable. There wasn’t worry, anger, confusion, or any other strong emotion. A mild inquiry at what was certainly a notable oddity.

Eira plastered on a bold smile and shrugged. “Getting old, I guess.”

Cullen laughed and shook his head. “It suits you.”

“Being old?” She tilted her head.

“If that’s what you want to call it, then certainly.” He released the strand of hair, knuckles brushing against her cheek as he did. “You shouldn’t hide it.”

With that, he stepped around her, setting out to put his pack down belowdecks and then help prepare the ship. Eira hovered, her cheeks unexpectedly warm. No questions, no worries. Just…admiration.

She turned out to sea, gathering herself and running a hand through her hair. Then, she commanded, “Pull gangplank. Cast off!”

The crew set to work. As those thick ropes unraveled, it was Eira who felt their departure—not the wood of the vessel. She was the one who turned toward the unbound freedom that beckoned from the open sea.

Their movements were instinctual, a rhythm that was almost like a song of calls and callbacks. Of clacking rigging and the quick rumbling of hasty steps across the deck. With little more than a beat of her heart, the ship eased away from the docks. The vessel was alive with her magic, moving through water without need of sail or oar.

She paid little attention to the larger vessels that anchored in the wharf of Qwint, save for avoiding their lines. There was a sense of isolation that swept over the ship like a cloud over the sun. They were on their own once more. But rather than being unnerving, Eira found peace in the solitude. They had all they needed.

A sigh of contentment escaped her lips as they glided between the watchtowers of Qwint. The stoic soldiers continued to regard them with uncertain stares. But none moved to stop them.

Her heart echoed the thrum of the waves against the hull. Her spirit soared as free as the wind in their sails. Her magic propelling them toward beckoning blue.

“Where to, Captain?” Crow asked, coming up alongside her.

“To Adela,” Eira announced, certain others would hear.

“Then I would suggest we head?—”

Eira held up a hand, stopping Crow. “I know where she is.”

“You do?” Crow arched her dark brows in surprise.

The ocean beneath them was a map unraveled. Beyond the walls of Qwint, laden with their runes, there was nothing to impede Eira’s senses. She swam through the vastness and raced along the surf. It expanded her awareness and, in the far, far distance, brushed against the familiar hull of a much larger vessel.

“I can feel her,” Eira said with an enigmatic grin, and offered no other explanation to Crow’s questioning gaze.