The town of Warich burned in the distance. The fires had only grown as they’d slipped away from the death and chaos, sailing down the river that cut through Meru. The Pillars were putting their fearsome
might on display for all to see, sending a message that would rock the very foundations of five kingdoms for years to come.
But Eira’s focus wasn’t on the distant carnage. Or the fact that the boat that she had escaped on with her friends was presently sailing in the opposite direction of where they had been intending to go. Or the countless pains that were still setting in following their frenzied flight from the coliseum.
None of that mattered.
The entire world had condensed in a second, reduced to the woman standing before her.
She was about Eira’s height and also of narrow frame. Hair as fine as moonbeams and nearly the same platinum shade cascaded over her shoulders, perfectly straight and catching the slightest breezes as if she were some kind of ethereal specter. Eyes the same color as the ice in the deep mountains narrowed slightly as she tilted her head back, looking down her nose.
“Hello, Eira.”
All Eira could do was croak in response. She opened and closed her mouth, several times, but no words formed. Her mind was empty—a void where all thoughts had once been.
This was some kind of hallucination, brought on by a day that just wouldn’t end. Her family might have just died. The leaders of her empire probably perished in a ball of fire. Cullen had been stabbed through trying to save her. Everything she thought she knew was crashing down around her. This couldn’t be real.
“Nothing to say before you die?” A slight smirk stretched across the woman’s face, curling thin lines into her cheeks, as though this particular expression of smug confidence was one she had repeated thousands of times, to the point that it was forever etched onto her visage.
“You—you’re…”
The woman’s gaze shifted slightly, looking over Eira’s shoulder. Eira had completely forgotten Ducot was just behind her at the helm. “They always blubber, don’t they?”
Whatever reaction Ducot had wasn’t vocal, so Eira missed it.
“You’re Adela,” Eira whispered, finally mustering two thoughts together.
“Yes.” Adela shifted her grip on the cane. It was made of ice, the same as her right arm and left leg, judging from the icy boot that extended out from beneath her pant leg. “I know who I am. But the real question is, do you know who you are?”
Before Eira could respond, Adela moved. It wasn’t sudden, or quick. She practically strolled across the deck to cover the gap between them. But Eira didn’t even try to flee. She just…watched as the deadly woman who had been little more than a blank slate in her dreams approached.
Adela came to a stop a step from her. Reaching out with her hand of ice, she gripped Eira’s chin, turning her head left and right. Eira was reminded of how the merchants inspected livestock fresh off the boats in the market of Oparium. But the whole dreamlike oddity of the situation had her allowing it to happen. It dulled the biting chill of Adela’s fingers.
As Adela conducted her inspection, Eira did the same. Their hair was of similar shade. Eira’s perhaps a touch more golden, but Adela’s silvery hue could be from age, or the moonlight. Their noses were different; Eira’s had a bit of a bulb at the end of hers compared to the sharp point Adela’s narrowed into. But their eyes…
It was like looking into a mirror.
The part of her that had been wondering for months tried to reach out. Would Adela’s magic feel like her own? Eira attempted to extend her
magic, forgetting it was no longer there. The ghost of her former power provided her with the illusion of magical pulses she knew should be there. But they weren’t real sensations.
Her magic was gone. She’d sacrificed it trying to bring down Ulvarth by closing his channel. Little good it had done. He’d orchestrated the downfall of the royals with such thoroughness that he didn’t even need his power.
The cold from Adela’s hand was finally reaching the bone of her jaw. Eira fought chattering lips. Her magic was no longer there to fend off the cold, either.
Adela released her and stepped to the side, rounding her. “You said she was a Waterrunner.”
“I did,” Ducot answered.
“She shivers.” Adela’s voice from behind had a chill racing up Eira’s spine.
“You have that effect on people.” Ducot had the same tone as when he reported to the Court of Shadows. He was working with Adela—for her. The whole time he was at the court…everything he asked Eira about Adela, everything Eira had told him of her history, her fears…
The searing betrayal was the only thing that could cut through the cold that frosted the very air around Adela and sharpen Eira’s senses enough to bring her back to the present. Eira blinked, as though she were waking from a dream. The empty deck stretched before her.
“Where are my friends?” she demanded, voice firmer and more even.
“You should be more worried about yourself than them.” Adela finished her sharklike circling, coming to a stop again before Eira.
“What have you done with them?”
The pirate queen merely smiled that same mischievous, borderline- sinister smile in reply. It oozed control, like Eira was a new toy to play with.
Eira wasn’t about to go from one madman’s game to another’s…even if the woman moving the pieces of this new board might be her mother. She glanced over her shoulder, back at Ducot. There was another man next to him now. A draconi took his place, assuming the helm from the blind man. Ducot stepped back and sat, leaning against the railing, no doubt to catch his breath from the exertion of having to sense the water around them constantly.
“They were your friends, too,” Eira seethed at him. “Or was that also a lie?”
“Relax,” Ducot said dryly. There wasn’t any animosity in his voice; he sounded as he always had. Even though Eira felt the sting of betrayal, he clearly did not seem to think anything had changed between them. “They’re fine. Just sleeping.”
“Where?”
“Where else? In the hold,” Adela answered, drawing Eira’s attention back to her. “I won’t harm them so long as I am not given a reason to. My business is squarely with you, Eira Landan.”
“Why?” Eira ignored the odd, prickling sensation that ran up her arms at the sound of Adela saying her name.
“I wanted to see the woman who was claiming to be me.” “Be you? I never—”
“I have heard the rumors spreading like wildfire. Some even say that I am walking the lands of Meru again, reborn.” She slipped some hair over her shoulder. “I must admit, I am constantly flattered by the new tales they make up about me.” Her preening turned back to intensity. Her fingers tapped across the top of her chin in quick succession. “But when those rumors are also about you, I find myself less inclined to enjoy them.”
“I didn’t start or perpetuate any of the rumors,” Eira said firmly. “In fact, it would’ve been far more convenient for me if they hadn’t begun at all.”
None of this was how she’d imagined meeting Adela would unfold. Not that Eira had any kind of clear imagining before this moment. The pirate queen was a legend. A scary story told to kids to make them oblige. She’d hardly ever seemed real, even despite Eira having spoken to people who had encountered her.
But, if she were honest…part of her might have been holding hope that their meeting would’ve been the slightest bit different. Warmer, perhaps? But that would’ve been too much to hope for from the pirate queen known for ice ships and biting frost.
“Now you insult me by saying association is an inconvenience?” Adela’s expression didn’t look insulted in the slightest. “You don’t think I know how much sway my name has? The fear it strikes into the hearts of men?”
“I’m sure you know the terror your name inspires, and so do I; I grew up in Oparium. Except I never wanted that reputation.” She motioned backward to where Ducot still was. “Just ask him. I never spread the rumors.”
“Ducot has kept me well-informed.”
If Adela was here, now—if she had been watching her—it all meant that she’d finally come for Eira, right? Why else send Ducot to be close to her? Why keep such close tabs if not to rescue Eira from the Pillars?
Her thoughts jumbled with every possibility, every hope and fear merged. Each seemingly more impossible than the last, adding to the surreal nature of the moment.
“If you’ve been following me, then you should know—”
“What I want to know is what made you think you could get away with it.” Her expression shifted. The coy, wicked smirk she’d worn gave way to something far, far more sinister. “Even if you did not spread the rumors yourself, you enabled them by imitating my magic.”
“I…I admit that I have been using your magic. But—”
Unlike before, Adela now moved with speed and murderous intent. Her cane arced through the air, transforming into a frosty rapier by the time it hovered underneath Eira’s chin. The weapon was purely for show. Eira knew all too well how deadly Adela’s magic could be with a single look. She’d been in grave danger from the moment she’d met Adela’s eyes.
“Tell me who your man or woman on the inside is and I might be inclined to let you live.”
“Excuse me?”
“You have surprising resources for someone so young, I’ll give you that.” There was a gleam of what looked like pride in the pirate queen’s eyes. “Under other circumstances, I might have been proud that you’d managed to infiltrate my ranks enough to learn my magic. Might’ve even asked you to join my crew.”
Exhaustion slipped into Eira’s palms, pulling her down, causing her shoulders to slump. This woman…might be her mother. And Eira had managed to disappoint her within minutes of meeting her. Laughter slipped through her cracks, coming out as almost a bark.
Adela, for her part, remained poised, the rapier perfectly still. Though her eyes did narrow slightly at Eira’s admittedly strange shift in demeanor.
“I don’t have anyone ‘on the inside.’ You taught me how to use your magics.”
“Excuse me?”
“I have your journals.”
Adela’s pose eased. The rapier slipped slightly away from Eira’s throat. Adela’s expression relaxed with what Eira could only assume was recognition.
“You have them?” Adela breathed. Not “had.” Eira’s words had been chosen intentionally.
Eira nodded now that the rapier wasn’t so close to her chin. “Well, I did…they’re back there.” She pointed to Warich.
Adela swooped the rapier down—it was a cane once more that seemed to extend from the palm of her icy hand. “Reverse course. We return to Warich. We can unload the rest of the cargo there as well.”
As soon as Adela had issued her command, the vessel banked hard. Eira noticed another ship sailing near them doing the same. She wondered just how many of the small boats making their way upriver were under Adela’s control.
“Eira, with me,” Adela commanded, walking to the front of the boat. In a daze, Eira followed. “I had planned to kill you for the transgression of using my name but—”
“You’d kill your own daughter?” Eira blurted. It wasn’t how she had intended to broach the subject, but none of this was going according to her imagining.
Adela stilled. She slowly turned her face to Eira. Her brow was furrowed in confusion, but her eyes were alight with cruel amusement. A quiet hrmph sounded like every last person who had ever laughed at Eira in her life.
“My…daughter?” Adela repeated. “Yes, I—”
“Foolish girl. I have no children.”
