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

Chapter 26

26

E ira was mildly sore the next morning. She woke loosely framed by Cullen’s arms. His body was halfway curled behind hers, warm breath tickling the nape of her neck. The candles had burned out in the night, puddles of wax spilling over into ivory stalactites.

Closing her eyes, she savored the moment. It spun out a fantasy, rebuilding the room around her. No longer were they in some abandoned home on the Isle of Frost, but the captain’s quarters of the Stormfrost . He was her paramour and there were days where the only order she gave him was to remain in bed and be ready for her whenever the urge should strike her fancy. Other days, they would wake and emerge together, ready to strike fear into the hearts of all those ashore.

A soft, songlike noise of delight escaped her. It was followed by a gentle press of his lips into the back of her neck. She shifted, feeling the weight of his body behind her, the way their skin stuck together.

“Good morning.” His voice was thick with sleep and rather delightful sounding.

“It’s nice to have you here,” she admitted.

“That’s reassuring.”

“You had doubts?” Eira rolled onto her back as he sat up, wiggling down to the foot of the bed and standing—giving her a delicious view in the process that she shamelessly admired.

“You’ve never woken up next to me. The last time…” He trailed off, pausing as he slid on his trousers, buckle in hand. Cullen stared at nothing. “I don’t deserve you. I didn’t then and I certainly don’t now.”

Eira sat, swinging her feet off the bed. There wasn’t the slightest urge toward modesty around him, so it took a minute before she gathered her clothes and joined him, dressing in silence. There were a thousand thoughts that weighed on her. Yet, none of them seemed to be cohesive enough to be worth saying.

“Maybe, maybe not.” She finally spoke when her pants were on, as if each article of clothing restored her better senses. “I know my faults, Cullen. Over the past two years, they’ve been brought sharply into focus. I’ve been reactive and brash. I’ve acted without consideration for those around me—the people who matter most to me. I’ve made mistakes that have hurt people. That have gotten people killed.”

“Noelle wasn’t?—”

She stopped him with a pointed look, tugging her shirt into place. “Noelle was and wasn’t my fault. There was more I could’ve done and simultaneously things I blame myself for that were beyond my control. I recognize all of it.”

His objection relaxed into a tiny smile. One that had a gleam of pride in his eyes. Eira sighed heavily at him to convey that she knew he was thinking about how far she’d come. That prompted a laugh from him, which caused her stony expression to crack into a smile of her own.

“In any case…I don’t know if you deserved me or not as a general statement.”

“Fine,” he relented. “But at the least you deserved so much better than how I treated you that night.”

“On that, we can agree, as did Lavette.” She turned to face him, finding him fully dressed as well.

The air suddenly became thick. There was a weight on her chest that made it harder to breathe. Time went sideways and she wasn’t sure if they stood there for a second, or five minutes.

There’s no more running from this , a voice in the back of her mind nudged gently. Not anymore . There was only so long they would wait. Only so long until her own heart began tangling itself in ways that would become truly irresponsible to ignore.

“Do you think you’ll ever forgive me?” The question was delicate and fearful.

There was a brief and deeply petty urge to tell him no . To take this opportunity to twist the knife in him. Hurt him like he had her when he was so vulnerable.

“I already have,” she admitted. “That doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the pain. That there aren’t parts of me that are still cautious of giving you that vulnerability again.” To think, falling into bed had been so easy compared to entertaining the notion of giving him her heart once more. “But…I’m not that woman any longer. There’s no point in me carrying her grudges. And you?—”

“I’m not that man,” he finished for her.

“So you’ve shown me.” She looked him up and down, appreciating fully how different he was now, from then. “We should get back to the others.”

His chin dipped, but he didn’t move. She brushed past him, starting for the door, keenly aware that there was still something weighing on him. Eira chose to ignore it. Probing felt far too dangerous right now. And he proved her instinct right.

Fingers closed around her wrist, catching her. Grasping her gently but firmly. Eira slowed in a step, gaze swinging back to his. Cullen held her stare intently, lips parting, but no words came. She opened her mouth to say they needed to leave. This had the opposite effect than she was intending and prompted him to action.

“I love you.”

There it was. The point of no return. The line in the sand that she, Cullen, and Olivin had been narrowly avoiding for weeks. Three words and he had made his stance...and now waited on hers.

Could she say it? Was she ready for that? And what did it mean if she did? She loved him. But did she also love Olivin? What did it mean if her heart wanted both men? They incapsulated different aspects of her, filled different roles that she wanted and needed.

Eira swallowed thickly. “Cullen, I?—”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to say it back. Not yet. Not ever, if it’s not the design of your heart. If I ever hear those words from you again I want you to mean them.”

“It’s not that— It’s only— You see—” She floundered, wanting to offer him reassurance yet at the same time having no idea what to say.

“Eira, you don’t have to say anything,” he repeated with a small smile. As if he knew exactly the source of her tumult and almost found it…amusing. “One benefit of being a lord is I have long since learned how to play the long game. I am a patient man when it comes to the things I want. My stance is unchanged—take your time, explore your heart, and, when you’re ready, when your decision is made, tell me then.”

“I love you,” she blurted. Cullen’s eyes went wide. “I do. I love you,” she repeated. This time, the words were as fragile as the hopes and fears that they were built upon. “I didn’t want to for a long, long time. But I can’t expunge you, nor do I want to. Maybe you’re good for me, maybe you’re the worst choice I’ll ever make. Either way, it seems my heart has made that decision for me and there is no going back.” She drew a shuddering breath. For the first time feeling wayward, lost, and adrift. She had everything she wanted. Why was she afraid of taking it? Perhaps because wanting it and losing it, again, would be too much to bear. “But…I might also love him? I don’t know. And it seems unfair to?—”

He silenced her with a finger on her lips. “That’s enough.”

Is it? Her eyes asked the question without words.

“You are enough, more than. I’m sorry it took me so long to act like it. But here I am now. There’s nothing else in this world that I fight for—live for—but for you and your goals. As long as I have you, I am content.”

Eira gave a slight nod of understanding and he released her. Still, neither of them moved. She continued to stare at him, working through what he said. The implications of it.

How was it that he was reassuring her that nothing needed to change while, at the same time, seemingly changing everything?

“Thank you.” Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“You’ve nothing to thank me for. If anything, the reverse is true.”

They shared a smile, fingers lacing.

“Let’s return,” she declared. “There’s much to do.”

She’d been keenly aware of his presence in the days that followed. When he stayed off to the side as Eira and Adela announced the next stages of their plans. How he dutifully followed orders and helped with packing their new vessel—one that had been previously frozen in the ice covering the Isle of Frost. The way his muscles strained as he tended the sails on their departure from the island.

He had admittedly become a distraction. But a pleasant one, and one that she had under full control. When her attention wasn’t needed entirely on something else, Eira studied him like she had one of Adela’s journals ages ago—learning as much as she was able about the man he was evolving into.

During the three days that it took them to sail to Meru on their new, smaller vessel, Eira dared to muse over what after might look like. Fantasies danced through her mind as she fell asleep in her hammock. Of the Stormfrost . Of a life of doing whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. Living free of judgment because she would allow none to touch her. Of who she wanted by her side…

But, come each dawn, Eira put the daydreams aside. She couldn’t get lost in the fantasy. The battle was ahead and nothing was real until she claimed her victory.

“We’ll spend one last night here,” Eira declared as the sails were struck. The sun hung low in the sky. Only Ducot, Olivin, Yonlin, Cullen, and Alyss had joined her on the mission to infiltrate Meru. When it was just the six of them, Noelle’s absence remained striking. Her ghost still hovered between Ducot and Alyss, a reminder of their purpose. “Pack up and then sleep while you can; we’ll rise before the dawn to get ashore while we still have the benefit of darkness.”

She’d let the ship drift tonight, keeping note of the currents in the back of her mind. It didn’t matter where they went ashore. Instead, Eira kept her magic focused on maintaining an illusion on and around the ship—a dense fog to conceal them. Not perfectly invisible so she didn’t exhaust herself too much; just enough that, at a glance, no one would notice them from the shore. They were far from any settlements, but a thick forest went right to the edge of the rocky coast so Eira wasn’t taking any chances.

They went about their business, packing their things. The vessel was small and they intentionally hadn’t brought very much. By the time Eira had fastened the last strap of her pack, Ducot and Cullen had already tucked themselves into their cots.

She was about to do the same for herself when Olivin caught her eye. He’d been talking with Yonlin, who was in the process of studying the pistol Eira had given to him a week ago on the Isle of Frost. She’d made the decision that, when the time came, he’d be the one to take the shot. If anyone was going to be confident with the weapon, it’d be him. And she needed to preserve her strength in the battle with Ulvarth—she couldn’t allow the weapon to sap her powers.

Olivin held her stare with purpose and Eira gave a slight nod. She ascended back to the main deck and he followed closely behind. Eira drew in a breath as she crossed to the railing.

“I’d been wanting to talk to you.” Eira broke the silence.

“The feeling is mutual.”

She gripped the railing and relaxed. “I didn’t like where we ended things the last time.” She sighed. “I was too harsh with you. I’m sorry.”

Olivin shook his head. “No, you weren’t. I was an ass. Yonlin being as injured as he was had put me on edge.”

“I can understand.” After what had happened to Marcus, then Noelle, she really could.

“I know you can. It’s one of the many things I adore about you. You know what it’s like…” Olivin drew a slow breath, abandoning the initial thought. When he spoke again, it felt as if he was starting from the beginning. “When Wynry betrayed us, we lost everything. Yonlin was all I had, and all the purpose I needed. Every day was survival, navigating as best we could, fighting for what little we had. All I needed was to take care of him.”

“But?” She could sense there was more.

“Eventually, surviving alone isn’t enough, you know? Eventually you begin to want more. To be comfortable. To thrive.” Olivin continued to stare out toward the dark horizon. She shifted to face him, listening intently. “I keep thinking about Lavette and Varren.”

“In what way?” Eira couldn’t see how they were suddenly relevant.

“Everything had crumbled for them. But, even after all had seemed lost, they made it back home. They reclaimed a future that should’ve been lost. They found a way to thrive again.”

Eira hadn’t considered any parallels. But, framed like that, she could see it. At least see how it had struck Olivin as potentially similar to his and Yonlin’s circumstances.

“Thanks to you.” He turned to face her. “You did that for them.”

“I only helped them because it was advantageous to me.” She pointedly looked away.

His hand landed over hers on the railing. “I know you want the world to think you’re this ruthless pirate. But I know you. You love so, so fiercely. You treat others well.”

“I am also ruthless,” she countered.

“Only in service to those you love.”

Eira bit the insides of her cheeks, not wanting to argue. It seemed strange to be trying to tell him she was a worse person than what he wanted to make her out to be. But she wanted to make sure he saw her for who she was. All the good, and the bad. Looking in the mirror and truly seeing herself was something Eira had become comfortable with over the past year.

“I think…I want to stop surviving,” he continued. “When this is all over, and we’ve won, I want to thrive.”

“And what does thriving look like? Do you still have desires to be my fleet master?” Eira worked to keep her questions emotionless. Part of her was afraid of the answer.

He smiled, and nodded. But something about it seemed…less committed than before. The explanation presented itself when he said, “First, though, I’ll need to see Yonlin settled. I don’t think the pirate life is for him.”

“Neither is it for Alyss.”

“And I suspect they’ll not be separating anytime soon.” He had a note of sadness that mirrored her own. A bittersweet taste to the joy that two people they cared for had clearly found each other, even if it meant they were leaving their sides. “I can’t abandon him—either of them—to the rubble of Meru. There will be a great deal to sort through in the aftermath to ensure another Ulvarth doesn’t rise and take advantage of the power vacancy that will exist. I will not see Meru under another tyrant. And, I want to make sure my brother is safe and settled.”

“So you’ll be staying, then?” She didn’t want to assume or mince words.

“Likely, for a time.” He shifted to face her outright. Eira mirrored the motion and his hand lifted to cup her cheek. “Do you hate me for it?”

“Tempting, but no.” As she spoke he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, noses almost brushing. “Not so long as you also look after Alyss.”

“Always. Someone who is dear to you, is dear to me.” So much was wrapped up in that declaration. Enough that it filled her with a pleasant pain. She was going to let this man break her, only to put her back together again.

“It’s a deal.”

“Then, I think I could give you leave for that,” she said and leaned forward to kiss him. Olivin’s other hand moved to her face and he held her delicately, as if afraid she could somehow break, despite how life had hammered her flesh to steel. Perhaps he held her with such tenderness because he knew, without her saying, that he held her heart.

The sun had yet to crest the horizon and they were all up on the deck. With a wave of her hands and the crunching and splintering of wood, Alyss tore into their ship. She broke off chunks from the bow and stern. The masts folded like paper. The strip of deck the six of them were clustered on began to groan under their weight as its supports were compromised.

Eira focused on activating her own magic to continue concealing the vessel. Fortunately the moon was still thin and the clouds tonight were thick. Between that and her shifting fogs, Eira was certain no one on the shore would see them. Which was good, because crafting an illusion over every piece of wood that swirled around them would’ve been impossible.

The bits and pieces pulled together, reassembling in the water in front of the ship into a small rowboat. With a thought, the sea rose, connecting the edge of the larger vessel with the smaller one and condensing into a bridge of ice.

“Everyone off,” Eira instructed. They all did as told and she was the last to slide down, behind Alyss. “All right, Alyss, no remnants.”

“You got it.” Extending both her palms, fingers outstretched, Alyss balled her hands and the vessel before them crunched in on itself. She twisted her fists in opposite directions, as though she were wringing a towel. Wood splintered and groaned, turning to dust.

“Cullen, if you please.” Eira was already focusing on the shifts in her own magic, lowering the water that had been their ice bridge without getting so much as a drop in their boat. As the wind picked up, thanks to Cullen, blowing the parts of the ship far out into the massive bay of Meru, they were speeding toward the coastline. Part of her focus remained on maintaining the fog, and, somewhere in the back of her mind, she had the currents fold the remnants of the ship beneath the waves, scattering them to assist Cullen’s efforts.

It reminded her of the first vessel they’d taken to the Stormfrost , crushed to keep their presence hidden. Like Adela, like Eira.

If anyone found pieces of the ship, they wouldn’t have any idea who it belonged to. And it would be far, far away from where the hull of their rowboat crunched up along the shore. Eira leaped out and the rest followed without need of command. The only sounds were five pairs of boots on the gravel, seeing as Ducot had shifted into his mole form and scurried up onto Olivin’s shoulder.

Eira caught Alyss’s eyes and gave a slight nod. Alyss repeated the process as she had with the ship, crunching the rowboat. However, this time, there was no need of Cullen scattering the pieces. The sand and stones around the larger planks vibrated and the scraps of wood sank into the earth, consumed.

No footprints , Eira mouthed to Cullen. The beach was mostly rocky, but small breezes helped blow over their tracks.

Olivin knelt and reached out. Ducot ran off his arm, scurrying ahead of them, nimble in his tiny form. He would be their eyes in the darkness, scanning for possible threats.

Together, the six of them ventured into the dark woods, a force that left no tracks in their wake and marched toward death.