“We’ve been expecting you.” Drogol emerged from the doorway as they approached with such impeccable timing that Eira wondered if they had some kind of runes that alerted them to her presence. Or if he’d truly been waiting for her to arrive.
“Have you?” Eira asked to conceal her surprise.
With a nod, Drogol led them in and through the concealed back door, up the staircase, and into what had been his showroom of illegal goods. But he’d wasted no time in converting it into a workshop for Allun. The shelves still had weapons, but they were now stacked between jars and boxes. The scent of flash shale nearly had her staggering, tripping back into her memories of the mines. But if Allun could still handle the stuff after all she had endured there, then Eira certainly wouldn’t waver.
“Drogol said you’ve been expecting me.” Eira approached the table in the center of the room that was positioned between her and Allun.
“I assumed you’d come for this.” Allun turned, holding the pistol in a bed of silken fabric nestled within a box. Her eyesdrifted to Olivin’s. “Your brother should be able to suss out the finer points. He’s a clever one, certainly.”
Yonlin had been talking Allun’s ear off nonstop during their journey back to Qwint.
“No doubt.” Olivin stepped forward as Allun rested the box on the table, shutting and clasping it before sliding it to him.
Allun’s attention drifted to Eira. “I made the modifications needed. It will be able to break through the strongest armor—even the runic-enforced plate I was forced to make.” She shifted, both seeming uncomfortable and smug at the same time. “Do destroy that forsaken set of armor. I dislike my work being on the shoulder or in the hands of those I do not choose myself.”
“Certainly.” Ending Ulvarth would be no problem. But Eira didn’t want to leave the matter to one weapon alone. She had gone into the mines with no plans. She’d approach Ulvarth with several. And there was a second way that Allun would be able to help her achieve her ends. Her attempt with the ring had only cemented further the necessity for Eira to become stronger. Stronger than she ever could by traditional methods of training.
“What are you going to do with your freedom?” Olivin tucked the box under his arm. “It must be a relief to make it out of Carsovia at long last.”
“I’ve yet to ascertain if I have traded one tyrant for another, as is so often the case. I admit to knowing little about Qwint, though they speak quite poetically about their government.” Allun leaned back. Her eyes drifted to meet Eira’s. “Though, I would hope that should I ever need another escape, I might have the favor of the pirate queen and her heir?”
“There’s only so far that I will risk my crew for another.”
“Am I not worth it?” Allun smirked.
“That remains to be seen,” Eira said, mostly as a challenge. She’d goad the woman into doing what she wanted, if that was the requirement.
“Is my pistol not enough?”
“I’ve no concrete proof your work is as good as you say.”
“Watch your tongue,” Drogol growled protectively.
Allun raised her hand with a slight smirk. “She has a fair point. And she’s risked enough as it is for me.”
As if intentionally, Allun practically invited Eira to ask what had been brewing in the back of her mind. She balled her fingers into a fist, remembering the surge of magic that came from just a small marking on the back of her hand, sketched in blood, through bars. If that much could be accomplished by so little…
I’m not enough as I am.
Eira hadn’t been enough to save Noelle. Her powers, though great, still weren’t enough to manage more than three or four feats of magic at a time, even small ones. Meanwhile, Adela could freeze a whole island with an errant thought and hold that frost for decades as she terrorized the seas.
The pistol would help, but it wasn’t the final solution to defeating Ulvarth and claiming her destiny. It was a good alternative—a backup. But to bring him downsheneeded more. Not things, or people…her power, her magic, the far-fetched plans she’d been working on with Adela for months and secretly continuing to develop on her own.
“The rune you put on my hand…I want it permanently,” Eira demanded. Allun didn’t look surprised in the slightest, as though she had been waiting for Eira to ask.
Drogol had enough shock for the both of them. “You want a rune…embedded into your flesh? You aren’t a piece of metal or stone—you’re a person.”
“Thank you, I am aware,” Eira said without taking her eyes off Allun. She still didn’t see a trace of hesitation or doubt.
“This comes with risks,” Drogol clarified, as if somehow that was necessary. “You carry your own magic…adding a rune could conflict with your power.”
“I’ll take your weapons, gladly.” Eira still spoke only to Allun. “But a pistol, any weapon, however powerful it might be, can be stolen—can be broken.”
“A person can break, too.”
“I will not break.” There wasn’t a trace of doubt or hesitation in her voice. “Merely killing Ulvarth won’t be enough. I must destroy the very idea of him, and to do that I need a power that I can’t yet reach.”
Allun rested her palms on the table, leaning forward. She kept her eyes locked with Eira’s, gaze level. Eira could almost feel her trying to root out any doubt or fear.
