“That is not the pirate queen!” The words soared above the pounding of the gavel. Above the frantic beats of Eira’s heart. “That is my daughter.”
5
Mother.
The word that no longer fit quite right. That didn’t seem to describe the woman calling after her. And yet, Eira had no other label that would fit.
“We will have order!” the man boomed over his gavel. “The floor is not open for comment from the gallery.”
There was a commotion above. Eira found the source of the voice. She squinted into the light that filtered through the dome. The figures above were cast in shadow.
It couldn’t be…
Lavette cleared her throat and resumed her movement from before. “This woman is not the infamous pirate queen. Her name is Eira Landan. She is a Waterrunner from Solaris and a champion in the Tournament of Five Kingdoms. I knew her as a fellow competitor and can vouch for her identity. If not for her quick thinking and skill—and the skills and cleverness of her friends—my fellow champion from Qwint, Varren, and I would have died with the rest. It is because of her that we were able to return to you. So, I seek her immediate release from these shackles.”
“Even if she is not the pirate queen herself, she could be in cahoots,” a minister said from the stands that circled the room. Some agreements. Some contrary remarks that “Adela works alone.”
“Perhaps not Adela, but the one to have brought Ulvarth that infernal armor,” another said.
Armor?Eira had heard nothing of the sort. But there was no time to inquire further.
“I propose this motion on behalf of my niece.” Lavette’s aunt stepped back to the center of the room, equally eager to reclaim decorum and wrap the matter up as quickly as possible.
“I second the motion,” the other man in the center, who had been silent until now, chimed in.
The first man who had spoken and who had been attempting to keep order—the eldest among them—continued to regard Eira warily. He begrudgingly said, “Then the motion is brought to a vote. All those in favor of releasing thisEira Landanand allowing her crew to be free within Qwint, raise your paddles.”
Around the room, green paddles rose in vast majority.
“Those against.”
Only a handful of blue paddles dotted the sea of hats.
“And those abstaining.”
A couple of white paddles.
“Those in favor have it.” The elder man picked up a small mallet, striking a tall, tubular bell that stood at the end of one of the two desks.
As soon as the chime echoed through the hall, the soldiers removed Eira’s shackles. She massaged her wrists. The physical relief paled in comparison to the sensation of her magic surging back to her.
“With that, we shall adjourn our special session of the Hall of Ministers regarding the potential threat of the Pirate Queen Adela Lagmir,” the elder man continued to speak in hisauthoritative tone. “Let the record show that it was not, as first assumed, Adela off our waters, and the matter is now closed.”
All those in the circles of chairs that ringed the hall at varying levels banged their fists on the railings before them three times. With that, the air seemed to clear with an unheard sigh. People rose to their feet and began to chat. Eira noticed that, with the threat deemed no more, they seemed to hardly pay her any attention—save for the few who had voted against her. Those men and women still regarded her with wary glances and skeptical looks.
The immediate threat quelled, for now, her attention drifted up toward the balcony. The space where the woman had claimed Eira was her daughter was vacant now. Cleared out with the rest. Perhaps cleared out by force.
“Eira?” Alyss whispered from her side. She hadn’t realized Alyss had worked her way to stand next to her.
“It couldn’t have been…” She still searched the empty balcony for answers that weren’t there. “How could she be here? She was in the coliseum…”
“You’re here,” Alyss pointed out.
Eira’s wondering was cut short as Lavette and her aunt stole her attention by approaching.
“Everyone, this is my aunt, High Minister Morova D’astre,” Lavette introduced with a motion.
“A pleasure.” Morova introduced herself to each of them in turn. When she made it to Eira, she paused, mid-grip, staring. “The resemblance is uncanny.”
