Varren’s chest continued to heave, but his words became slower. “Damp. Rotting wood. Old burlap…sweat, just like the mine?—”
Lavette nodded and held out her hand before he could run away on a tangent again. “What do you feel?”
Varren took her outstretched fingers. His breathing was now under control. Words even. “The wood under me. My damp clothes clinging to me. You…holding my hand.” His eyes slowly drifted to her face. Eira could see the inhale he calmed on, emotions back under control. As if he could breathe in the very sight of her.
“Yes. You are here. With me. You’re not back in Carsovia. You’re not with them and you’ll never be with them again.”
He pressed his eyes closed and nodded, a little too quickly. “Sorry, it’s… I was doing so well…”
“It’s all right, you have nothing to apologize for. You’ve had a lot of reminders this past day.” Lavette released him with a sad smile.
“Carsovia?” Alyss asked delicately.
Lavette didn’t answer; instead she remained focused on Varren. They all hung in silence as he shifted, clearly gathering the nerve. If he’d been Eira’s friend, she would’ve stepped in and relieved him from the pressure of having to explain whatever it was that was clearly causing him such immense discomfort.
But Lavette apparently had other ideas of what he needed. And, since she knew him far better, Eira refrained from doing anything or passing judgment.
Varren finally found his voice. “I was born in Carsovia. Life there was…difficult.”
“I see.” Alyss gave a small nod.
Lavette finally stepped in. “These shackles are made in Carsovia at the pleasure of the empress. They’re imprinted with runes—not unlike our bracelets—except these markings block all magic.”
Noelle scoffed. “We’ll see about that.” She held out her fist and squinted. Sparks crackled, snuffing almost instantly. There was not even the barest hint of smoke in the air. “No, I’m not letting some stupid bracelet…” she growled, trying again.
“It’s pointless,” Lavette said plainly as she crawled over toward Cullen. “The shapes on them are a runic art. It’s not easy to get rid of them or work around them. As long as they’re in contact with our flesh, magic isn’t an option.”
Eira heard the words, but also couldn’t take her eyes off how Lavette knelt by Cullen, holding his face with both her hands, leaning over him. She stroked his cheeks tenderly, almost lovingly. The action seemed in contrast with what Cullen hadsaid of their relationship. With what Lavette had said in the warehouse:I have no interest in fighting with you over him… Frankly, I have little interest in marrying at all.
Had feeling begun to blossom in the undercurrents of their relationship? Or was this simply Lavette’s nature? She had always seemed like she was even-tempered and, as the leader of the delegation from Qwint, naturally inclined toward looking out for those around her.
“He looks all right, too,” Lavette whispered, releasing him and moving away. “Glad we all seem unharmed.”
As if sensing the attention was on him, Cullen’s eyes cracked open. “What…where are we?” His voice was a rough croak. “Where’s Eira?”
“I’m here,” Eira said softly. Cullen lifted his hand and she shifted toward him once more, cradling it in both of hers.
“Are you all right?” His gaze never wavered from her, as if her presence was all the comfort he needed. He was the one who had been skewered at sword point, but her heart felt like it was now bleeding.
“I’m fine; we all are.” Relief crashed down upon her like a wave, threatening to crumble the walls she’d built around her emotions. If not for her ironclad resolve, tears might have welled in her eyes. She’d been scared—terrified that he was going to be snatched away by Death without her ever having a chance to speak with him again.
No matter what their future held, it couldn’t end there. She wasn’t ready for it to. Not when there was still so much between them unresolved and clearly left unsaid.
“Thank the Mother.” He relaxed with a soft sigh. Eira resisted the urge to pull him into her arms. To ask him to lay bare the innermost designs of his heart. They needed to sort this out, once and for all. However, now wasn’t the time. She didn’t move for him again.
“We’re not reallyallokay,” Noelle said somewhat curtly. “Where’s Ducot?”
With everyone awake, now was as good a time as any to try and fill them in. Eira took a deep breath.
“None of you remember anything?” she asked, hoping someone did. They all shook their heads and uttered various noes. “The person who’s imprisoned us, whose vessel this is…is Adela Lagmir, the Pirate Queen.”
They all stared. No one moved. No one seemed to even breathe.
“I must have misheard you…” Cullen murmured, slowly sitting. “You said Adela? The same Adela who might be?—”
“My mother? Yes,” Eira finished for him with a grave note. She didn’t proffer the knowledge that Adela had already denied being her mother. There were still mysteries there, still things Adela wasn’t saying.There had to be.
“Better than Carsovia,” Varren murmured. “Though only slightly.”
