As she moved to leave, he caught her hand. “Shouldn’t you stay here?”
Eira frowned at him, a pointed enough expression that it was its own response.
“You are the captain of this vessel. What if something happens to you? What would the rest of us do?”
Eira looked to the opposite deck. Her friends had wasted no time engaging the soldiers. Magic sparked between flashes of lightning, twisted faces of pain and anger highlighted by Olivin’s Lightspinning circles.
I should be there with themwas her first thought.
Noelle died because of me. Because she hadn’t been strong enough, fast enough, determined enough…a good enough leader.
That second thought was what prompted her to stay. To widen her stance and shift her focus to the currents around the opposite ship as well as her own. She had allowed them to be disorganized in the mines—had allowed everyone to make their own choices, and Eira had witnessed the consequences. She’d been working to learn and implement every day since the notionthat it was possible to be the leader her friends needed and deserved while still giving their opinions and thoughts voices.
Eira squeezed Cullen’s fingers and nodded, showing she understood. A brief expression of relief overtook his features. For a second, the rain seemed to slow. The chaos halted. It was so quiet she could hear him breathe. Quiet enough that Eira checked her magic to ensure she wasn’t stopping the raindrops mid-fall.
Affording no more than a second of distraction, Eira’s focus returned to the battle. With a flick of her eyes, the sailor engaging Olivin went rigid. Olivin’s sword sliced through her chest effortlessly before his eyes darted Eira’s way. She gave him a slight nod. One that was returned before he continued to the next. Eira shifted her attention to another.
Ice. Wind. Light. Runes. All magic combined to be a symphony of death. They made quick work of the ship, so quick that something important was overlooked. By the time Eira felt the flare of magic unique to flash beads, it was too late.
The Carsovian sailors had responded with artillery of their own. Her ship swung off-kilter. Eira lunged for the railing. At the same time, an upswell of wind pushed on the opposite side of the vessel, preventing them from keeling over. Her fingers closed around the railing.
Eira pushed her magic into the ship. Frost crackled out from her hand, spreading across the railing and onto the decks. It spilled over the side of the vessel, covering the fresh opening they’d ripped into her hull. She could feel every jagged edge of the ravaged wood. Every opening where water pushed through.
Enough of that, Eira thought. The ocean that had surged into their vessel was forced out like low tide. They righted themselves, frost covering the entire ship from bow to stern.
Eira straightened and looked back over to the decks of their enemies. Her eyes met a sailor’s—a woman who she had noattachment to or affiliation with. A woman Eira was certain she had never seen before and would never see again. A cold realization crossed her features that had nothing to do with the frost curling the wind.
“Adela.”
Eira smirked before her magic seized the woman’s heart, squeezing until it stopped beating.
The other ship was sinking. The fight had been won well before the crew decided to return, retreating off the decks that were about to be consumed by the waves. Once the last of them—Olivin—had returned, Eira shifted her focus.
“Push us away,” she asked of Cullen as her magic surrounded the other vessel.
The winds that had been pinning down their enemy shifted, pushing on the ice Eira had patched the side of their hull with. They drifted back and away. At the same time, she created a swirling vortex beneath the dark waves. It sucked the opposing vessel down. Wood and rigging crunched, chewed up by churning currents. Eira narrowed her eyes.
Down, down, and down farther still. She’d condemn them all to an oblivion from which there was no escape. The only things that would tell of what happened here were flotsam and frost-bitten carcasses.
The moment she was satisfied, Eira returned her magic to her own ship in full. The waters propelled them away as she descended to the main deck, where everyone was still catching their breath. Even Yonlin had emerged from belowdecks.
“The cannons?” Eira asked him.
“We lost one,” Yonlin said gravely.
Eira made it a point to not look back to Cullen. She hoped he had the decency not to gloat. But she wasn’t going to tempt him with an opportunity.
“Good thing we only needed one shot. We’ll keep our focus from here on,” she said. Cullen had been right. It wasn’t worth it to chase down that little vessel. But it was hard to think clearly.
“Crow, can you navigate us back on course?”
“In the middle of a storm?” Crow had to raise her voice over the wind and rain. “I’m good, Captain, but I’m not that good.”
“I think I can get us somewhat back on course,” Cullen offered from behind her. Eira turned to face him with an arch of her brow. He elaborated, “We’re close enough to land that I can feel how the wind sheers off beaches and rock. I can use that to navigate us.”
“Do it.” If they were close enough to land for him to feel that, then it meant they were close enough to land for another patrol to find them. Part of their hull was still open, her ice the only thing preventing the ocean from pouring in. As much as Eira wanted to drown all of Carsovia, she knew when a tactical retreat was best. Though, if any were to make the mistake of crossing their path…
With a nod, Cullen headed toward the helm, assuming command. His wind swirled around the vessel, guiding it as much as her currents would. Eira eased her magic, following his lead. Cullen’s powers had grown so familiar to her that it was effortless to support as he needed. She could sense what he was about to do before it was done.
