“Bastards,” Adela growled, and stood, exuding strength, but only for a moment. The ship lurched again, sending Eira tumbling from her chair.
Eira forewent bracing her physical body to brace her magic. She felt the moment of impact this time as some foreign object exploded against the side of the ship. The attack hit her magic—hither, sending her reeling.
Her head spun and the hold that Adela had on her magic retreated, pulling up her stomach with it. Eira retched and braced herself against the floor. Though she didn’t know if she was bracing for another dizzying attack, or if she was bracing for Adela’s scolding. Eira was certain the rug she’d just ruined was probably very rare and expensive.
Icy fingers closed around her chin once more, wrenching her face up, ignoring the spittle. Adela’s arm had magically extended to an inhuman length so that the pirate queen didn’t even have to kneel to reach her. She looked down at Eira not with disdain, as Eira would’ve once expected, but determination.
“I will deal with these bastards personally,” Adela vowed. “Until I return, theStormfrostis in your hands. Donotlet my ship go down.”
Eira didn’t have a chance to ask for details on what was happening. Adela left in a blur of hasty steps that crackled with power underneath her feet. She opened her mouth to call after the pirate queen when another explosion battered the side of the ship.
Digging her nails into the rug to steady herself, and her magic, Eira weathered the blast. And then a second. She closed the holes in the frost on the side of the ship as they were made.
Eira pressed her eyes shut and drew shaking, shuddering breaths. She hardly had time to recover before there was another blast. The whole vessel groaned and tipped. Eira flopped onto her back, stretching out her arms and legs. Ice covered her, melding her with the ship.
The sounds of the chaos on deck faded away. People screaming. Heavy footsteps. Flashes of power grew distant from her awareness. Eira focused only on theStormfrost. Her consciousness stretched around it, flowing through the ice, and reaching into the water.
She curled her fingers, magic crackling and charging through the frost. The sea swelled, pushing the vessel upright again. Eira withdrew her power and focused back on bracing for another blast. Just in time.
A scream raked up her throat and found no escape—frost had covered her mouth. Pain burned her side. It was as if she was the one being struck, rather than the vessel. As though her own flesh was being seared and carved away.
Eira thickened the ice once more. She wasn’t going to let them win. Whoever “they” were. Be it the Pillars, a rebel pirate faction, or someone else long scorned by Adela…it didn’t matter. It wasn’t about them in that moment. This moment was hers alone, to prove to herself that the pirate queen’s trust wasn’t misplaced. That she had made progress on deepening her connection with her magic and learning new feats of power.
As the battle around the vessel raged, her awareness of her own body continued to slip away. She could feel the heavy footsteps of people racing about on the deck. She could feel the inconsequential pockmarks for magic bursts not even a quarter as strong as what was assaulting the side of the hull. Even though she wasn’t battling alongside them, in her mind’s eye, she began to construct the image of her friends.
And if she could see them, then she could help them.
Her muscles spasmed as she drew more power. Sheets of ice rose to block attacks on the deck outside. They served as shields for her friends to hide behind. Spears jutted from railings, skewering those she couldn’t recognize. All the while, Eira continued to preserve the hull.
The tide of the battle turned, dictated by Adela’s magic as the pirate queen gained the upper hand. Eira breathed a sigh of relief through her nose. But she didn’t release her magic, not until two hands cupped the frost on the sides of her face and a distant voice called, “… back… Come back…”
Eira worked to relax her magic. Little by little, she released the magic making her one with theStormfrost. The frost that had covered her cracked. Her ears were free and her consciousness slowly returned.
“What do you think you’re doing in here?” Adela’s cool voice demanded to know.
“What haveyoubeen doing in here?” Cullen, she could hear him clearly now. “What are you doing to her?”
“I have done nothing that she did not welcome enthusiastically and could manage beautifully.” Adela’s footsteps approached. Eira’s eyes cracked open, finding Cullen kneeling at her side and Adela looming over. “Up with you. I will resume command of my ship.”
Adela’s lips were pressed into a thin line, the magic in the air around her writhing with agitation. And yet, there was aglint of what Eira would dare say was delight in her eyes. Was Adela impressed?Manage beautifully… Had there ever been two sweeter words said about her? The mere possibility soothed over the phantom aches that still riddled Eira sides and chest.
“Is theStormfrostall right?” Eira croaked.
A long stretch of silence. Then, finally, “Passable.” That was the best Eira knew she would get. But, for Adela, combined with everything else, she might as well have been singing Eira’s praises.
“What happened?” Eira rubbed her stomach where she had felt one of the blows. Her skin was intact. But that didn’t stop her from lifting her tunic and searching for bruising. There was none. How had she felt so viscerally? What had Adela managed to teach her all these weeks without ever laying it out explicitly?
“Your magic? That was the natural evolution of seeing through the frost, as we had discussed. The attack? Come and see for yourself.” Adela turned and then paused halfway to the door. She looked back to Cullen, any glimpse of approval in her eyes having vanished. “And you…should you ever enter my personal chambers again without permission, Iwillkill you.”
Cullen frowned but had the good sense to say nothing. The moment Adela was gone, his arms flew around Eira’s shoulders, pulling her in tight. Compared to the magic and the frost, Cullen was searing hot. She wanted to melt into him, to lose all shape of her own and rely entirely on his in an utterly boneless state. She couldn’t resist the indulgence of his comfort for one sweet minute.
“Do you think you could stop terrifying me just once?” he murmured into her hair.
“Come now, if I did that, you would get bored of me.” She inhaled his scent—sweat, salt, and the freshness of wind over snowcapped mountains.Him.
He chuckled and shook his head. “I could never be bored of you.”
“Everyone else?” she asked.
