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

Chapter 22

22

“ I wasn’t sure what to do with my old clothes.” Fritz pointed at the pile on the floor. “Thank you for the fresh ones, by the way. Those were the last things I wanted to keep wearing.”

Eira knew all too well how ridding one’s self of the clothing from an ordeal could feel like shedding the whole ordeal itself.

“We’ll put them out on deck, for now.” Eira decided. Cullen took the indirect order and passed them to Ducot, who unceremoniously plopped them outside the door. Some crew member would collect them and put them in the pile for someone to use who didn’t have so many memories tied to them. She held out the mug to him. “Here. This should help warm you up.”

“I’ll take just about anything; it’s been ages since I last had more than scraps.”

Eira remembered her time in the pit…and her initial days with the pirates. She knew how poorly someone in captivity ate. With that in mind, she saw how loosely the clothes hung off his frame. How gaunt his cheeks were. It’d been months since the fall of the coliseum and it looked like he’d been given just enough to stay alive during that time. How he’d managed to have the strength to survive at all was a testament to his will. A curl of searing anger flashed in her gut as her hand fell on the dagger’s hilt at her thigh. There would never be peace for her until Ulvarth was dead.

“What happened after the coliseum?” Eira asked, positioning herself beside him on the bed. Alyss wedged herself behind Eira in the back corner, shifting the blankets to fit. The men crammed in—Ducot and Olivin against opposite walls, barely enough space to not be flush against each other. Cullen shut the door behind him and leaned against it.

“There was the explosion…” Fritz shifted his hands on the mug. It was then that she noticed raised and gnarled scars that completely covered one. The heat of her anger at the Pillars would be an inferno soon enough. “Then, chaos.”

“How did you survive?” Olivin asked.

“Barely.” Fritz took a long drink of the thick stew in the mug, chewing it for a stretch of silence. “I made it out of the coliseum, but I couldn’t find anyone.” His eyes drifted to her. “Not your parents.”

“They were in Qwint,” Eira said.

Fritz’s eyes widened. “Reona…”

“Your sister is alive.” Her smile, however slight, was genuine. Eira knew the pain of losing a sibling and wouldn’t wish it on anyone in the world. “As is Herron.”

“I’m so relieved they’re all right…and that you had a chance to speak with them.” Fritz covered his mouth as though he was exerting physical effort to contain his emotions.

Eira didn’t ruin the moment by elaborating on just how briskly their conversation had ended. She was certain they’d tell him when he returned anyway. “They went on a vessel back to Solaris. I’m sure they made it all right.”

“I’m sure.” Fritz lowered his hand to reveal that he was beaming from ear to ear.

“What about the royals?” Eira asked, shifting the topic from their family.

“Lumeria is gone,” Fritz said gravely. “Ulvarth has seated himself as king and defender of the faith.”

“As we heard,” Ducot murmured, mostly to himself.

“Qwint, well, you know that some survived, but not many. And not the majority of the ministers they’d sent.” Fritz shook his head. “I don’t know about those from the Twilight Kingdom. The draconi seemed to have survived.”

“Are they in league with the Pillars?” Olivin was the one to give voice to what all of them were likely wondering, since they’d all seen the draconi competitors defending the Pillars as they’d emerged into the coliseum.

“I suspected as much. But I don’t think so. At least not beyond a moment…” Fritz frowned and took another long sip, chewing over his words. “My impression from all that I could overhear during my time with the Pillars was that Ulvarth had struck a deal with the draconi, so they would be spared. But their alliance didn’t go much farther than that.”

“Anyone who works with the Pillars, even once, is always a threat.” Olivin’s hands balled into fists.

“They returned to their island. I haven’t seen one since,” Fritz said tiredly. Eira wouldn’t have expected him to be defending the draconi…but he had always been the sort to stand against injustice.

“And just how much did you see, and hear, of the Pillars while you were with them?” Olivin asked. The tone that Eira had heard before was back in his voice: mistrust. A frown tugged on the corners of her lips.

“Not as much as I would’ve liked, or tried to,” Fritz admitted. Eira couldn’t tell if he was genuinely oblivious or not to Olivin’s skepticism.

“Why didn’t they kill you?”

“I was useful and promised I could make myself more useful…” Fritz described his time with the Pillars, but Eira could tell he was glossing over some finer details. When he spoke of being captured by them on the road and begging for his life, Eira could feel the blows that he omitted, as though they were on her own skin, blows that persisted until darkness consumed him.

He said he woke in a room of total darkness. A pit, in another name. Locked, forgotten, starved until finally someone came to him. She felt the desperation in her own stomach, tempered with rage-filled resistance at the idea of giving in to them for a few meager bites of whatever stale or mold-crusted scraps they were presenting.

She could envision the dance of words and actions that followed. The careful navigation of telling them what they wanted to hear, showing them genuine vulnerability…but keeping true strength for herself. The core of her mind, and heart, locked away.

“…Eventually, I convinced them to put me on a ship. That I could help them not only as a Waterrunner, but to navigate to Solaris,” Fritz continued, nearing his conclusion. “They eventually agreed. Though they didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Why not?” Alyss mused.

“Lightspinning isn’t particularly useful for moving ships around. It can be done, but…Waterrunners and Windwalkers are far more useful on the seas,” Eira answered for her uncle. “Did they have others from Solaris captive?”

“I always assumed they did, but I never saw any,” he said solemnly. “I would’ve freed them, were I able.”

“And what of the Solaris royal family?” Cullen had been completely silent until now. But his expression was nearly murderous. Eira wondered if, as her uncle spoke, he, too, was playing the scenes in his mind based on what she had told him— had been seeing her in every situation Fritz had described. “You didn’t mention them earlier. I take it they’re not captive?”

“Are they…” Alyss couldn’t bring herself to finish the question, even as little more than a whisper.

“I tried to get to them, but I couldn’t before the explosion. I don’t know what happened.” Fritz finished the last of his stew and stared into the empty mug, as though the answer had been hidden on the bottom all along. “Ulvarth doesn’t have them, that much I’m certain of based on what they asked me about the royals time and again. Once I had a bit more leeway with the Pillars, I picked up that they had been searching through the wreckage of the coliseum for them. Their bodies still weren’t found.”

“They’re alive.” Even though the words were soft, they were sure. Eira’s confidence resounded in them now more than ever.

“How do you know?” Cullen directed the question her way.

“Vi.” One name summarized all her conviction and then some. She had known it in her bones and, all along, Adela had been unshakably confident in the idea that Vi carried on. All eyes were on Eira, but the only one who looked like he fully understood was Olivin. So Eira explained for the rest of them, her uncle included. “She was a leader of the Court of Shadows.”

“Vi Solaris? The Court of Shadows on Meru?” Surprise was as evident in her uncle’s tone as it was on his face.

“That was only the edge of her quilt of influence, I suspect,” Eira said, mostly to herself. Then, louder, “She is a Lightspinner, in addition to a Firebearer.”

“Impossible,” Olivin blurted.

“She is,” Eira insisted. “And I always suspected that was just the tip of her power. If anyone could’ve survived the coliseum—even with the might of flash beads—it’d be her.”

“I hope so.” Fritz’s words were as wavering as his hope no doubt was.

Eira remembered what he had told her right before everything went sideways about Vhalla being his Alyss. She rested a hand on his knee and met his fearful eyes with confidence. “I’m sure she kept the Emperor and Empress safe, too. With all three of their powers together, how could they not survive?”

“I’m sure you’re right.” But he didn’t sound like he believed it. Not that it mattered, because Eira had no doubts she’d eventually be proven correct.

“What can you tell us about the Pillars’ operations?” Olivin’s focus wasn’t anywhere near Solaris. Though silently Eira admitted his persistence was the right call. Whatever was the true fate of the Solaris family would be revealed in time. And if Vi was an ally in hiding, that would be seen when the moment was right, Eira was certain. For now, their focus needed to remain on the Pillars and getting to Meru.

“I’m not sure how much will be useful, but I’ll tell you all I know…” Fritz braced himself, gripping the edge of the bed.

He told them of the Pillars’ infiltration of Risen—their swift and overwhelming rise to power. How there were only three choices for those in the city: death, captivity (which usually led to death), or joining the Pillars’ crazed faith. And he spoke of the armor Allun had mentioned. Fritz didn’t know the truth of it, but he did describe a “golden haze” that the armor surrounded Ulvarth in—from hidden runes, Eira suspected—and how the armor made him basically invincible. Combined with what her parents had said about it, Eira was glad she had the pistol.

The moment Fritz finished telling them all he’d seen and overheard, Olivin began peppering him with questions. They were shot faster than flashfires. Repetitive. Each faster than the last. Fritz worked to keep up, but eventually his answers began circling themselves.

“You honestly expect us to believe that’s all you know?” Olivin finally snapped.

“I’m telling you it is.” Fritz hung his head with a sigh. “Believe me or don’t. That’s up to you.”

“You were with them for weeks.”

“Rotting in a cell!” The exclamation came out of nowhere. Eira had never seen her uncle’s brow furrowed so deeply, eyes so rife with pain. “If you want those answers so badly, why don’t you go and get captured by them?”

“My brother was.” Olivin’s tone became harder and more dangerous.

“Which means you know nothing then.” Fritz narrowed his eyes, Eira had never seen her uncle have this much rage before.

“How dare you,” Olivin snarled.

“How dare you ask me about my time as their captive so callously.”

“If you were captured to begin with and didn’t go willingly.” Olivin’s words were as sharp as a dagger’s edge.

“That’s enough.” Eira might not be the captain of the vessel they were on, but she was their captain. Their leader. And her tone ensured that would not be questioned. “He’s told us all he knows.”

She locked eyes with Olivin. He made a noise of disgust in the back of his throat, shook his head, and practically threw Cullen aside to storm out the door. Ducot took advantage of the opening and followed behind. Eira glared after them, but her gaze instantly softened when it was drawn to her uncle’s as he looked to her with pain.

“I swear it, Eira. I’m telling you all I know. I would never have gone with them willingly.”

In that moment, he had become the child. He appeared scared and broken. A younger man who had endured the worst of the world’s horrors and then some. Who had watched a mad king rise to power once before and was now forced to watch that ascension happen all over again.

“I know you are; just as I know that you never would be one of them.” She reached over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a tight embrace. The mug clattered to the floor, forgotten. Eira could feel him trembling in her embrace. “You’re safe now.” She told him what she’d needed to hear so desperately the moment she’d escaped the Pillars and silently chided herself that it had taken this long for that phrase to be uttered.

Fritz drew a shaky breath as Eira felt Alyss moving behind her, sliding off the bed. “Thank you.” A bitter chuckle. “Though, I’m not sure how…given that I’m on the Stormfrost and a captive of Adela.”

“About that…” Eira rubbed the back of her neck as they pulled apart, searching for the words.

“We’ll leave you both to it.” Alyss pulled Cullen out the door, closing it quickly behind them. Eira heard the message loud and clear: it was time for her and her uncle to talk.

“You’re not the only one who was taken captive following the coliseum, though it worked out much better for me.” Eira folded and unfolded her hands as though she could repeat the motion until it undid the knot in her throat.

His hand entered her sight, resting lightly over her thumbs. The movement drew her attention to him.

“I’m glad it did.” Sincerity shone in his eyes. Out of everything that he had endured, why did her being all right make him look like he wanted to weep? And how did it make tears threaten her own eyes? “Don’t look so guilty.” He laughed, as if he could read her mind. “Just because I suffered doesn’t mean I would’ve wanted you too as well.”

“I know. I simply…wish you didn’t have to. I wish I’d been strong enough to defeat Ulvarth before he ever became this much of a problem.” Eira’s fingers balled into fists underneath his.

“You don’t have to shoulder the weight of the world. It’s not your responsibility,” he tried to reassure her.

Eira slowly shook her head, bringing her eyes to his. The burning behind her lids was gone, and with it the tears she hadn’t let fall. The knot in her throat hadn’t yet unraveled. “Whether it is or isn’t—should or shouldn’t be—it doesn’t matter, Uncle. I want it to be my responsibility.”

“Eira…” he whispered sadly, losing the words briefly before finding them once more. “You don’t have to do this. You can come home.”

Home . There was that word again. The same word her parents had used. The word that had only just begun to reclaim meaning for her.

“Uncle, this”—Eira gestured around them—“is my home now.”

“What?” He leaned back. “No, no no. Eira, you merely think that because you’ve been Adela’s captive for so long. But we’ll be able to free you. I’m here now and?—”

She shifted her hands to grip his fingers. “Uncle, I don’t need saving. This is what I’ve chosen.”

“Is she really…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish.

“My mother? No.” Eira chuckled and briefly mused on if she’d ever say yes to that question purely because it was easier. But “mother” didn’t quite fit Adela. The woman was mentor and something like a mother…but also not. And Eira didn’t want to force her to be. The first time Eira had a mother, it hadn’t worked out as ideally as she might have hoped. She wasn’t keen on pressing the label upon someone else. “She’s training me though. She’s chosen me as her heir.”

“You?” Fritz’s brow furrowed and relaxed. He squinted then stopped. As if he couldn’t quite see her. Perhaps he was seeing her truly for the first time. “If you’re not her daughter, why would she want you?”

The fact that he couldn’t understand it was all she needed to know. Without trying to, he showed her so beautifully and succinctly what Eira had felt all her life. You doubt me, even still .

Eira kept the thought to herself. It would get them nowhere, and Alyss had been right: she wasn’t going to bring Fritz with her into this next stage of her life. Their time had passed. But she’d still keep him in her heart, as she would her parents. Enough to make good on her word from time to time that she’d visit them whenever the winds carried her into port, as she was able.

“After the coliseum, we fled onto a vessel moored in the river by Warich that I thought belonged to the Court of Shadows. But I’d misunderstood. It was Adela’s…”

Eira told him all that had transpired at length. She spared him little—only the more intimate details of her interactions with Cullen and Olivin. There was her initial work with Adela, the revelations, getting her magic back, and Noelle’s death. His fingers tightened and his eyes widened, shoulders slouching as his jaw relaxed and lips parted in shock. By the time she finished, he looked as if he had lived through half of it.

“…Now I’m going to go back to Meru. I will find Ulvarth and end this,” Eira finished. “And when it’s over, I’ll see where the wind carries me.”

Without warning, Fritz yanked her to him, throwing his arms around her shoulders once more and drawing a shuddering breath. “I cannot believe all you have endured.”

“I’m fine.” She gave him a firm squeeze.

“I can see that now.”

Eira released him, wondering if it was true. Could he truly see her? Or would she forever be the girl living in Marcus’s shadow? The untamed magic that threatened to bring shame as easily as pride to their family name?

“You should rest.” Eira decided that for now there was little sense in digging deeper into those questions. Maybe they never needed to be explored. There were some things that were all right left unsaid. “I can only imagine how long it’s been since you had a proper sleep. Take my cabin for the night.”

“Are you sure?” He was already in the process of making the bed as he asked.

“Very much so.” She stood to get out of his way. “I’ll bring food in the morning.” Her mind was already debating what she was going to do next with him. Though ideas were forming. “For now, rest easily knowing you’re safe.”

Eira excused herself and emerged from the cabin into the brisk night. She inhaled deeply the smell of salt and cold. No sooner had she taken a few steps than the feeling of being watched overwhelmed her. Halting, her attention swung, meeting a pair of familiar eyes that shone in the darkness.

“We should talk.” Olivin’s voice had a bit of gravel to it, as though the words were weighted by severity.

Eira had remembered the tone he’d taken with her uncle and gave a slight nod. “I think we should.”