Reclaiming the Frost, page 25
“I actually wanted to talk to you,” Roska said as she pivoted and matched her steps to his.
“Oh?”
“I wanted to thank you. Brigit said you’ve been teaching her to read. She said you’re an excellent teacher.” Delilah glowed at his praise. He bumped her with his elbow. “Thanks for taking care of her and being so kind.”
Delilah’s laugh surprised him. He looked down to see her quickly cover her mouth, trying to capture the sound that had escaped her. “Gods, I’m sorry, milord. I didn’t mean to laugh. I just think it’s funny that you and your family keep thanking me for my kindness. If it weren’t for the three of you, my sisters and I would likely be dead. Or wishing we were.”
Roska stopped in the middle of the hall, catching her arm gently. She turned back to face him, an inquisitive look on her face. “Delilah, you don’t owe us anything.” She was already shaking her head to argue, but he held up a hand to silence her. “No, you and your sisters don’t owe us anything. You should never have been treated the way that you were. We were only putting to right what had been so violently done wrong to you three.”
Delilah looked away, her hair falling from behind her ears to hide her face a bit. Gods, she looked so young then. She was so strong-willed and mature that Roska sometimes forgot she was only thirteen. He leaned forward, looking into her eyes behind her curtain of hair. “You didn’t deserve what was done to you. None of you did. My siblings and I are grateful for you each and every day. You went through hells and you came out the other side strong, brave, and compassionate. It takes a special kind of person to endure what you went through and come out the other side with empathy and patience, rather than hate.”
He reached out slowly, allowing her a chance to pull away if she didn’t want his touch. When she didn’t move, he lightly thumbed the tears from her cheeks and held his arms wide. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, and a sob escaped her lips, muffled by his tunic where she’d buried her face in his chest. He rubbed his hand up and down her spine, allowing her this moment without saying a word. Delilah was a strong kid, but she rarely let anyone see her as anything other than humorous, witty, or sarcastic. Roska could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen tears in the girl’s eyes, and three of those were in the first moon after Elena had promoted the sisters to her royal guides.
Roska wasn’t sure how long they stood in the hallway, but when Delilah’s breathing had returned to normal, his tunic was rather damp.
“Gods,” Delilah muttered, trying to wipe the tears from his clothing. “I’m sorry, milord. I didn’t mean to ruin your tunic.”
Roska shooed her hands away. “Firstly, you have to stop calling me that. I’m Roska. Just Roska. Secondly, it’s fine. The cloth will dry. I’m more concerned about you.” He held her gaze, still studying her face. “Are you ok?”
Delilah flashed a shy smile but nodded. “Yes, mi-Roska.” She corrected herself, although it looked like saying his name left a strange taste in her mouth. “I’m fine. I’m just not used to people being so nice to me. I love reading with Brigit. I’m glad she’s enjoying it too. She’s a very quick learner! Mistress Elena would be very proud of her progress. Well, she would be if she knew. Brigit asked me not to tell anyone, so I haven’t mentioned it.” She added the last part quickly, seemingly nervous that he might get upset with her for telling Brigit’s secrets.
Roska’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. Delilah truly was an amazing young woman. He couldn’t wait to see what she did with the rest of her life.
They were the last to reach the library, finding Miguel and Brigit already pulling large tomes from the shelves and laying them out on one of the tables in the center of the room.
“Took you long enough,” Miguel teased, greeting them at the door and placing a chaste kiss on Roska’s cheek before planting one on Delilah’s head. “We’ve been pulling every book that has any reference to snake-woman creatures.”
Delilah looked at the growing pile of books on the table. “What exactly are we researching…?”
“Ye dinna tell her what we’re lookin’ fer?” Brigit stood beside the table, hand on her hip as she teasingly scolded Roska.
“I was going to—” Roska started to defend himself, but Delilah jumped in.
“We started talking about me instead. I am the most interesting conversation topic, as you both well know.” Delilah smiled broadly, rubbing her hand over imaginary facial hair and stalking into the room like she owned the place. Roska couldn’t help but laugh at her obvious impersonation of Quinn.
Miguel practically rolled over in uncontainable laughter. Brigit’s faux-stern face cracked as she too began to laugh.
Demoni soared overhead, entering the room through an open window. Circling above them, she showered them with tiny ice particles. “We have work to do,” she chided as she landed beside a massive pile of books.
“Buzz kill,” Delilah teased, walking over and scratching Demoni under her chin. “Your wings are absolutely beautiful, by the way.” Demoni flapped them with a flourish, showing off the shimmering teal scales and near-translucent webbing that allowed her to fly once again. With Demoni appeased, Delilah turned back to Brigit. “So, what are we researching?”
“We’re lookin’ for anythin’ about the Lamia.”
“Specifically, how one might use their eyes to control someone else,” Miguel added, pulling another book from the shelves.
“Gruesome.” A wicked smile spread across the young woman’s face. “I like it!”
“Has anyone told you you’ve got a dark side?” Roska asked, walking over to a shelf labeled Mythical Creatures and glancing over the spines for a promising title.
“Oh, yeah. Your sister tells me that all the time.” Delilah cackled behind him, pulling a book from the pile on the table and flipping to the back. “Are we looking to do some mind-controlling? Because I have a few people I’d like to test it out on, if that’s the plan.” Her face had turned deadly serious as she thumbed through the glossary.
Roska briefly wondered who she’d want to control, but decided against asking. It was probably safer to not know. He didn’t want to become an accomplice to her future—albeit likely entirely justified—crimes.
“We’re not trying to control anyone,” Miguel said. “We’re trying to stop someone else who is using the Lamia eyes to control a lot of people.”
“Oh, well, all right,” Delilah smirked at him, the darkness that had clouded her face vanishing as she found what she was looking for and flipped to the page she needed.
The rest of the day was spent scouring books, learning everything they could about the Lamia: where they came from, how to kill them, and how one might use the Lamia’s eyes to control others. Everything they’d found was purely theoretical, unfortunately, because according to every book in the castle, it had never been done before.
Despite the expansive library at their disposal, there was little to be learned about defeating a Lamia, much less stopping someone who was already using the creature’s eyes. Their biggest challenge was finding a way to stop the Grand Maester and destroy the eyes without causing permanent damage to anyone who was currently under his control.
“I still think our best bet is to smash the eyes.” Miguel stretched his arms over his head, twisting slightly and releasing several unsettling pops from his spine. He grinned unapologetically as Delilah made a gagging sound at him.
“Aye, but what if that wrecks the minds he’s controllin’?”
This had been the ongoing discussion for the better part of the day. How to avoid collateral damage—as Miguel had called it—while destroying the Grand Maester’s control.
Roska took a sip of the summer cider a maid had brought for them along with lunch hours before. The cool, crisp taste of watermelon with a hint of mint kept him alert as they poured over book after book, trying to find a fool-proof solution.
“I think that may be a risk we have to take,” Roska finally admitted. It wasn’t ideal, but stopping the Grand Maester had to be their top priority.
Brigit’s jaw dropped as she stared at him. Clearly, she’d been expecting him to be on her side. “Ye canna truly be all right with potentially killin’ all those men. I kin they’ve been hurtin’ folks and causing tragedy wherever they go, but killin’ them makes us just as bad, does it no? There must be another way.”
He hated being at odds with her, but he also couldn’t let Grand Maester Auron continue his shady machinations.
“I don’t want to hurt them. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but if it’s our only option, then we have to.” Roska ran a hand through his hair, trying to will another idea to come to mind. When nothing came, he looked sadly up at her.
She held his gaze a moment longer, then slammed the book she’d been reading down onto the table and stormed from the library.
Roska rose to follow her, but Miguel held up a hand. “Give her time,” he insisted. “She’ll come around. It’s just hard for her to accept that this is the only way. Sometimes you have to sacrifice a few to save the many. It’s unfortunate, but it’s a fact of life. ”
Roska sat down hard, elbows on the table and his head in his hands. He wished there was another way, but he couldn’t see it. The man needed to be stopped, no matter the cost.
Chapter 35
“You’re leaving tomorrow, then?” Niko asked over dinner a few nights later.
Roska nodded, his mouth too full of stuffed chicken to vocalize his response.
“And you’re sure you don’t want me to come?” Quinn asked.
Quinn was back from Andover, having gone for a visit to check on Amelia and bring some presents to Hannah, Elena’s friend’s daughter. The little girl would be celebrating the completion of her fourth cycle soon, and Elena had insisted that Q bring her gifts, as the future Queen wasn’t able to leave the capital for an extended time yet. Planning a wedding while learning to be a ruler was taking up a great deal of her time. While Q had been away, Roska and Miguel had been working closely with Commander Jamieson to plan the ruination of the Grand Maester.
“I’m sure we don’t want to burn the entire place to the ground.” Roska tossed a roll at Quinn. “Besides, we’re hoping to be a bit more surgical about this. If Grand Maester Auron truly is controlling minds, then it’s very likely that the majority of the Brothers aren’t as violent and hateful as he is. We need to break his control over them, not destroy the entire compound. Not yet, anyway.”
Quinn sighed dramatically. “Fine. I never get to burn shyt down anymore.”
“Don’t you teach an entire class about burning things?” Elena leaned forward in her seat to see Quinn around Niko.
“Yeah, but it’s not the same.” Quinn sighed mournfully, raising his hand and lighting the tip of his index finger on fire. “When I’m the teacher, I have to be all responsible and shyt. I can’t just play with fire and burn things for the hells of it.”
“Thank the Mother for that.” Niko chuckled. “I don’t think our training field could handle much more of your so-called fun.”
Lyra muttered something across the room where she ate with Agon and Demoni. Roska couldn’t hear what she said, but Quinn said, “Not yet, girl. We’ll get him back when El’s not here to defend him.” Roska couldn’t help the grin that tugged on his lips, nor the snort that escaped before he could stop it.
Elena raised an eyebrow in a challenge at both her brothers, lifting her hands, bright blue lightning dancing across her fingertips.
“All right, you two,” Niko leaned forward, placing himself between his future bride and her fiery brother. “We have important things to discuss. My impending immolation isn’t on the itinerary for tonight.”
Q recalled his flame, tossing a cocky grin at Elena and stabbing his chicken with unnecessary zeal. Roska wondered if bringing Q along might actually be a good idea, if for no other reason than to give their brother an outlet for his pent-up energy.
“Don’t worry, Ros,” Elena spoke, seeming to read his mind. “I have a very special job for our dear brother. He won’t be bored here for too long.”
“Oh, yeah?” Quinn sat straighter, attempting to see their sister around Niko’s thick, curly hair.
“Yes, but it will have to wait until tomorrow,” she replied. “We need to get the last things sorted with Roska before he leaves. You and I can talk about it over lunch.”
Roska’s interest was piqued, but he didn’t pester Elena with questions. She was right, they had things that needed to be settled tonight before he left in the morning.
“You’re taking the same crew?” Niko asked, moving the conversation back on track.
“Yes, if that’s all right with you, Your Majesty.” Miguel’s tone held a hint of mockery as he addressed the King with such formalities.
Niko rolled his eyes at Miguel but kept the smirk on his face. “Of course, Captain. Take whatever you need.”
Miguel’s eyes crinkled as a small smile flitted across his face. It was gone just as quickly as it appeared, but Roska knew he was enjoying teasing Niko.
“I think I should come wit ye.” Brigit worried the napkin in her lap. She’d been trying to convince them to let her come along all week, but Miguel pointed out that she wasn’t fully healed. Brigit countered that Roska had only just finished his tonics from the healer, but he’d been cleared by the wizened old woman as well. Brigit was still walking with a hint of a limp, not to mention she’d only just begun working with the healers to try and repair her hand. The whole limb looked like a massive purple bruise.
Roska took both of her hands in his, careful not to press too hard on her injuries. “I want you to come with us; you know that. You deserve to see that monster fall as much as I do, but I can’t risk losing you. Not again. Not when I’m in a position to keep you safe.”
Brigit glared at him. He knew she felt like he was patronizing her, and he hated it. He hated what had been done to her simply because of her proximity to him, but more than that, he was concerned that if she were there with them, he might be too worried about her well-being to do what needed to be done.
It was going to be hard enough with Miguel by his side, and he was a highly trained Shadowcloak. It would take all of Roska’s energy to focus on the job and not worry about him. Roska didn’t think he could take worrying about her, too.
“Yer a damn fool, Roska. Both of ye,” she added, turning her ire on Miguel. “I deserve to be there. More than anyone else yer botherin’ to bring along. I went through hells in that godsforsaken place. I should be there when it all comes fallin’ down.”
Brigit ripped her hands from his grasp, pushed up from the table, and strode angrily from the room.
“She’ll be all right, Ros,” Q said. “It’s hard being left behind, even if it’s for a good reason.”
Roska nodded. He appreciated his brother’s insights and attempts at comfort, even though it only added to the guilt weighing him down. Elena said nothing, but her silence seemed to carry the heavy weight of an unspoken opinion she was trying to keep to herself.
The remainder of the meal was spent discussing their plans, contingencies, and backup plans for their contingencies, until Roska’s brain was a muddled mess and he was ready to fall asleep at the table.
“Get some sleep,” Niko said, pushing up from the table and offering Elena his hand. “We’ll see you off in the morning. You should be back by the next black moon.”
They bid each other good night and headed off to their various rooms.
Miguel and Roska strolled down the quiet halls to their room. It had become their room, rather than Roska’s. Brigit had apparently moved in while he’d been gone. Roska hadn’t even noticed until the second morning when he went to get dressed and found a pair of female leggings in with his wool socks. She’d been embarrassed about it at first, but Roska had been thrilled. Since then, Miguel had brought in his own clothes, and they’d found a way to fit all of their belongings comfortably in their shared space.
“How pissed do you think she is?”
“Gods, I’m praying she’s asleep. I can’t stand to see that disappointment in her eyes.” Roska never liked being the reason someone was unhappy, but the hurt in Brigit’s eyes was unbearable.
“I know, Ros.” Miguel wrapped an arm around Roska’s shoulders. “But we’re not doing this to be mean to her. She needs more time to heal. She’ll see that.”
Roska wasn’t so sure.
He was even less convinced when they walked into their living space to find the room had been turned upside down. Pillows had been strewn about. Dishes were smashed after clearly being thrown into the stone walls. Roska and Miguel’s clothes were thrown all over the room.
“Maybe I was wrong…” Miguel gazed around the room, a mixture of shock and pride on his face. “She’s livid.”
Brigit hadn’t meant to destroy their room, but she hadn’t fought the urge either. It felt good to vent her rage, even if it was dramatic and destructive. When the boys came back, their awe and the pride in Miguel’s voice inflamed her rage once more.
“How dare ye think I canna handle those muxin’ bastards?” She stalked angrily into the room, throwing anything she could get her hands on. Pillows. Shoes. The last remaining undamaged teacup. She picked up a heavy, leather item, raised it over her head, and froze as her mind registered what her hands had grasped. Pulling the book into her chest, angry tears began to stream down her face, unbidden and unwanted. Just like she was.
Brigit glared at them both, trying to ignore the tears, and spoke around the tightness in her throat. “I’ve bin through too much to be left behind. Abandoned here while ye two go off to fight for my honor? Mux that. I’m a fighter, injured or no. I fought every second of every day in that damned cell, despite the endless hours of torture that muxin’ Brother put me through. I have as much of a right to be there as Roska, and a hells of a lot more than anyone else in yer damned crew.” She flexed her hands around the leather cover of the book, trying to rein in her tears and project the anger and injustice she felt. She refused to be coddled.
