Page 86 of Heart of the Summer Queen

I rush for the wheel without hesitation. Ocean spray splatters my cheeks, red curls galloping behind. I grip a wooden spoke but pause. “Starboard means right, yes?”

“Unless you want to crash,” he shouts back.

I clutch a second spoke and turn the wheel. It offers more resistance than expected, and I end up overcompensating, sending us too far right. If I don’t correct course again, we’ll slam into the opposite pier instead.

Just as I reverse direction, Elaric calls, “Not so far right!”

Carefully, I straighten our path, though waves still drift us left. With cautious adjustments, we sail out the harbor without crashing into anything.

thirty-one

We sail all afternoon, intermittently checking our course with the enchanted pendant. Every sudden lurch of the waves has me scanning across the endless blue of the horizon for any sign of the frozen kingdom. But even by the time night falls and the clouds surrender themselves to the stars, Eruweth remains absent. The anticipation of knowing we could arrive any moment fills my stomach with dread.

“You should rest,” Elaric says, hours after dusk. “We may not reach Eruweth for days. You can’t stay awake that long and still battle Isidore.”

“But if it takes a week, will not sleeping affect your magic? One of us will need to keep watch for the island at all times.”

“Since my magic is currently suppressed, it doesn’t need replenishing,” he simply says.

With no prior experience of consuming Irremisa, I wonder how he can be so certain. If he’s wrong, facing Isidore with weakened power will prove disastrous.

But arguing now is pointless. He’ll just insist I sleep and not worry. If we do sail for days, I’ll have to keep persuading him to let me take the night watch.

I pull out the small blanket from our sack and fold it over as a makeshift pillow.

For a while, I lie there on the hard deck, staring up at the glittering stars, listening to the splashing waves. I close my eyes, but thoughts of reaching Eruweth and facing Isidore plague my mind.

I roll onto my side, gaze falling on the Sword of Veliantis several paces away. Its luminous jewels glow amid the darkness. After a violent wave earlier, I thought we’d arrived and unbundled the sword, fearing Isidore might ambush us. Though the alarm proved false, having it close seems sensible.

I exhale gently, the sound of my breath faint over the waves. Instead of trying to sleep again, I end up staring at the sword.

Even with this weapon, what chance do we stand of defeating Isidore in her own domain? What if magical wards block Elaric’s power like in Belinda’s woods?

Though since his magic originates from her own, any such wards are unlikely to affect him. Nonetheless, the thought of battling her without his magic fills me with terror. Our already impossible odds would be a thousand times more impossible.

Yet killing Isidore wasn’t part of the incantation used to curse Elaric. No, it involved me. His Summer Queen.

When Belinda first confirmed this, true love between us seemed foolish. But after last night, after our earnest honesty and shared desire, it seems quite possible after all.

Elaric’s confession echoes through me—those three powerful words.

I love you.

If he can love me despite my past betrayal, doesn’t that prove the strength of his affection? And while I’m not yet ready toprofess the same, I’ve never felt this way for anyone. Every glance, every touch, fills me with such emotion I may burst.

However, there’s no guarantee what we share is true and powerful enough. We could turn back, avoid all danger, but I don’t know how long it’ll take to break Elaric’s curse. If ever.

I suppose we could have a happy life, even with the curse. Me aging while he does not would be difficult, and I know how miserable he is chained in this frozen prison, but perhaps my presence would ease his pain somewhat.

But as deeply as I care for Elaric, I cannot abandon my sister to an eternity bound in ice.

Nor can I leave Elaric to endure the same fate.

I’ve pondered this much already. There is no alternative. We must face Isidore.

I sigh into the darkness.

“Struggling to sleep?” Elaric calls from the wheel.

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