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

Chapter 21

21

F or a second, Eira was too stunned to move. To even speak. She stood there, replaying the words over and over in her head.

“He’s…here,” Cullen managed, realizing how impossible it sounded.

Eira gave a slight nod, not trusting herself to speak as she emerged back onto the deck of the Stormfrost . The rain was beginning to lessen. The fat drops that had plopped heavily on the deck had now thinned to little more than a mist. The clouds broke into patches, giving more opportunities for moonlight to stream down.

The deck of the Stormfrost was still mostly dark. Adela only kept a few magical lanterns that glowed with a pale blue, bioluminescent moss—taken from the Twilight Kingdom, Eira had heard. Running a dark ship helped them slip by undetected and gave them the element of surprise.

So Eira couldn’t make out the features of the crowd of sailors. But she did see Adela standing among them. Her clothing, a pale white and gray, reflected the light as though her body were entirely made of snow and ice, not just one arm and leg. The pirate queen shifted, no doubt sensing Eira’s approach rather than hearing or seeing her, given the commotion that surrounded Adela.

“Cullen seems to think you know this man, and he claims the same.” Despite having two people vouch for it, one whom Adela knew personally, she still sounded skeptical.

The crew that had encircled the man parted, allowing her through. Eira halted the second her eyes landed on the hunched figure. He was waterlogged—soaked to the bone and bound. A gag had been stuffed into his mouth, though he wasn’t even attempting to speak, at least not at this point.

But the hair that was slicked against his head was undeniably golden, highlighted by the light of a lonely lantern that one of the crew held. His eyes, as they rose to her, widened to the point that there was no mistaking their shade of blue. They immediately welled with tears, brow furrowing in relief.

Eira stepped forward and knelt. She reached around and grabbed one of the ties of the knot on his gag and pulled, freeing it from his face. She’d never seen her uncle with stubble before, or shadows quite so dark underneath his eyes.

“Eira.” Her name was little more than a shocked exhale.

“Hello, Uncle,” she said loudly enough for all of the crew—Adela included—to hear. She didn’t want any of them getting any ideas that he was going to be thrown overboard. “You keep surprising me by showing up in the place I least expect.”

“This time, I can say the same for you.” He choked on his emotions a moment, struggling to quickly collect himself. “And here I thought having the ship sunk and being captured by pirates would be the death of me. Never before have I been so relieved to find out Adela and the Stormfrost is not a myth.”

“Neither is my cruelty,” Adela added with all the bitterness of winter.

“Captain.” Eira gave the pirate queen deference, especially when she was about to ask her for yet another favor so soon after receiving such a significant gift. “I’d like to ask for some fresh clothes from the supply, and a hot meal for my uncle. He’s a talented Waterrunner and can lend his aid to the vessel in any way befitting of his skills before we send him on his way.” Eira covered the other oppositions Adela might have—that there were no handouts on the Stormfrost and that Eira wasn’t about to ask for yet another member to be added to the crew. She needed time to figure out what to do with him, though.

Adela narrowed her eyes slightly. She raised her cane, bringing it to Fritz’s chin and lifting it to look him in the eyes. Disapproval radiated off of her.

“If you so much as blink in a way I do not like, I will kill you and her for it.”

Fritz opened and closed his mouth, unable to formulate a response.

In the wake of his stunned silence, Adela lowered her cane and turned, starting back for her cabin. “You all have work to do, I believe.”

The crew collectively gave Eira wary and uncertain looks. Even as Adela’s declared heir, they became so skeptical of her so quickly. Not that she blamed them when she continued pushing her luck at every turn.

“All right, Uncle, let’s get you warm.” Eira made quick work of the knots that bound him.

“You seem skilled at undoing a captive person’s bindings,” he observed thoughtfully, but his tone was ambiguous as to whether he thought it a good or bad trait.

“I’ve had a few months to get familiar with various knots.” Eira left it at that. She stood and held out a hand, helping him to his feet.

As the crew dispersed, her friends remained, and approached.

“Thank you,” Fritz said over her shoulder, directed at Cullen.

“Of course, Minister.” Cullen bowed his head. “I wasn’t going to let them drown you when you were putting up such a fight.”

“It really is you.” Alyss stepped forward and didn’t even hesitate to wrap Fritz into a brief but tight embrace. The gesture surprised Eira a bit—while Alyss was a longtime friend, she’d never been so warm with Eira’s uncles. Though what she said next gave Eira some clarity. “It’s good to see a friendly face. I thought there would be no one left following the coliseum.”

“I’d like to hear how you survived,” Olivin added with a skeptical tone.

Eira noted that Yonlin was nowhere around, and hoped his wounds were truly mended. But there was only time for one thing at a time.

“Let’s discuss this in my cabin.” The crew was already obviously displeased with this turn of events; Eira didn’t want to put it in their faces. Plus, she had the benefit of privacy in a cabin now, so she might as well use it.

“Your…cabin,” Fritz repeated softly as she led them over.

“Olivin, can you find something warm, whatever they have simmering in the galley? Cullen, can you find dry clothes?” Eira directed and the two men headed belowdecks. “In here.” She ushered her uncle into the narrow cabin, Alyss still following.

“This is yours?” He still spoke slowly, words laden with disbelief, as if he thought everything before him was some strange fever dream.

“Only as of recently.”

“And you’re…friends with Adela?” Fritz looked her way.

“It’s complicated,” Eira was unsure of how to phrase things. Friends didn’t feel quite right—her relationship with Adela was more than that, yet also not nearly as warm as “friends” implied. A knock on the door saved her.

Cullen was the first back. “I guessed on the sizes.”

“We’ll step outside and let you change.” Eira took full advantage of an excuse to escape, practically throwing the clothes at her uncle and pulling Alyss out to snap the door shut behind them.

Hands on her hips, she crossed the deck and stared up at the silvery moon above. The rain had stopped and the remaining clouds were a thin lattice, nearly transparent. Eira cursed under her breath.

“What’s wrong?” Alyss asked, catching up with her and no doubt hearing the language. “Aren’t you happy to see him?”

“Of course I am,” Eira said hastily, the question making her aware of just how her actions could be read, not just by Alyss and Cullen, but her uncle. She needed to be more mindful. “But I have no idea how I’ll explain all this.” Eira gestured around her.

“Well, you would’ve eventually, right?”

Eira made a noncommittal noise. “If I could’ve glossed over the finer points, I would’ve.”

“Forever?” Alyss blinked.

“Ideally.”

Alyss laughed and it had the echoes of their time in the Tower—it was the same tone as all the other times she’d gently and lovingly told Eira she was being ridiculous. “It’s better to get it out.”

“Easy to say when you’re not the one ‘getting it out,’” Eira muttered.

“You don’t think I hadn’t already thought about what I’d tell my parents, did you?”

“I’d assumed we’d all keep this one massive secret. No one needs to know from our past lives.” It sounded utterly unreasonable now that she said it aloud.

“Eira…” Alyss’s fingertips landed lightly on her elbow, drawing Eira’s attention to her. Somehow, she seemed to glow in the moonlight. As if everything that was ever and would ever be good was encapsulated within her. “How you handle your past and its meeting of your present is up to you. None of us will judge you for it.”

“I doubt that,” Eira murmured under her breath. Alyss heard.

“None of us will and you know it,” she said firmly. “You’re just being difficult.” Eira looked at Alyss from the corners of her eyes. Somehow that only made Alyss even more amused. “I understand why you might want to—have to, even—let go of your past to move forward. But that doesn’t mean the rest of us will want to. Some of us might want to carry it with us.”

Eira sighed. The notion that not everyone was running seemed…impossible. But she knew it was true, logically. Her emotions just twisted in her gut and got the better of her logic.

“Now, you should go back and talk to him. I’m sure that he’s ready and he’ll want to hear from you, just like I’m sure he’ll have information you want to know.” As Alyss finished, Olivin emerged with Ducot in tow. The former held a large mug that Eira could see steaming from where she stood.

“You’re right.” Resigned, Eira crossed with a few quick steps to where Cullen was waiting beside the door. Alyss was behind her. “I doubt we’ll all fit,” Eira said skeptically when she realized none of them were leaving.

“I want to hear what he has to say.” Olivin’s tone was so firm it startled her. It left little room for debate.

“As do I,” Ducot added in much the same manner. The men were ready to fight if she resisted.

“Fine, but it’s going to be tight.” Eira took the mug from Olivin and knocked on the door. “Uncle?”

“I’m decent,” he called from within.

Eira allowed herself a single, bracing breath. She steadied herself on the inhale. She was Adela’s chosen heir. She had braved Carsovia, twice. She’d survived Ulvarth even more times than that. She’d learned magic that Fritz could only dream of, had dined with nobles, and had operated in the shadows on behalf of royals. Half of her sordid story he’d already learned about.

But would this be the breaking point, and, if it was, did she still care?

That was the question Eira didn’t know the answer to. Was her heart in her throat because she still cared what he thought about her, because she loved him and sought his approval? Or was this feeling leftover conditioning of a young girl who had been told, time and again, to respect and revere her uncles?

Only one way to find out …

Eira opened the door and braced herself.