In the Wake of the Ruined (The Siren Mage, #2)(70)
“Now, where did you learn to do that?” I tucked the purple bloom behind her ear. “Not from me, I hope.”
“You’ve managed to endure.” Her eyes creased up—not quite a smile, but something sadder. “Perhaps I will too.”
22
Theodore
We trudged through the dead meadow all the way to the line of the beach in silence.
Lachlan stood beside the launch as the sluggish waves lapped at his boots. He’d already settled Agatha on the center bench, and now he ushered a solemn Halla onto the bench across from her. Through the swirling haze, I could just see the Eleuthios’s hulking outline.
I reached out a hand to help Imogen into the boat, but she paid me no mind. She was already in the brown waves to her knees, a hand over her stomach, her eyes searching the water.
“Get in the boat,” she said without looking up.
I did. She was stunningly terrifying in that moment; all focus and swelling concentration. I could nearly feel her power as it spilled from her and into the lagoon. Her eyes fell shut; her head tipped back toward the turbid sky. Deeper into the water she went until it licked at her thighs, until her fingertips brushed the yellow spume. A shiny tentacle broke through the surface before her, the too-large mass of organs and gills and suckers curling around itself as it drew closer to her, closer to the shore.
Lachlan and I dipped the oars into the water, but before we could drag them through, a current propelled us toward the ship. A breathless mix of horror and wonder filled the boat as every single one of us watched Imogen urge the heaving, grotesque mass of flesh from the lagoon and onto the beach, ensuring that we could pass safely.
Agatha let out a harsh breath. “I suspected, but I never thought…” She let the thought die as Imogen dived through the next wave and into the lagoon. Agatha watched on in amazement and distress. Clearly, neither of us would know peace until Imogen did.
The launch bobbed beside the Eleuthios as we secured the pulley ropes to their hooks. Imogen had swum alongside us, and now she sat in the boat’s hull, arms wrapped around her knees, eyes on her feet. She leaned her shoulder into Agatha’s knee, taking the meager comfort. I wished to give her more.
The pulleys gave a protesting squeal as the sailors hoisted us up.
Lachlan nudged Agatha’s shoulder softly and said, “I’ll put you in a cabin. With a cot and a door. And you’ll have a hot bath and food. All right?”
Agatha nodded at him absently, her tight fists in her lap. The launch stopped its ascent and swung to and fro above the deck, and then one by one, we disembarked. Halla first, then Lachlan, who helped Agatha up and over the edge. I stepped out next to find Aleka pushing her way through the crew with purpose.
She stopped in front of me before I could reach back to help Imogen. Aleka was dressed in a stern rust-colored robe, her folder and a piece of parchment in her hands. “We are happy to see you returned and well, Your Majesty.”
Markis was behind her in a gold-trimmed suit. Both of them bowed.
Aleka extended a parchment toward me. “As you have requested, the execution has been arranged. The plank is bolted to the port side of the ship, Your Majesty.”
Lachlan scowled beside the launch, his arm protectively draped around Agatha’s shoulders. “What’s this?”
A tremble started in my hand. “Eftan’s execution,” I said faintly.
Lachlan’s eyes bulged. He snatched the parchment from Aleka and read over the list of Eftan’s crimes. “Theo.” He said my given name quietly, his tone half warning, half disbelief. “Banish him instead. Don’t do this.”
Markis had come alongside Lachlan, his hands clasped behind his back. “I have to disagree with the commander, Your Majesty. The chancellor’s crimes are inexcusable. Banishment will only communicate to the people that committing such heinous acts is not so grave. Furthermore, he has admitted to them all.” His sandy brows rose, and his voice turned conspiratorial. “What’s more, while he’s been ill, we found written-up schemes that outline his intent to imperialize the realm of Leucosia, playing Varya as the aggressor.”
No matter how Eftan himself had trained me for it, I could not keep my shock hidden. Not this time. I supposed it was just like him, though, to have a handful and lament that his other fist was empty. “Show me the papers.”
Aleka pulled them from her folder as Lachlan gathered himself. “I am not suggesting that his threat go unchecked, Markis,” he said. “It’s not right, but execution is not the only—or best—course. He can be imprisoned.”
Imogen had climbed from the launch all on her own and came alongside Agatha. She tucked her arm around her, guiding her to a calmer part of the deck. As she did, she watched me with disbelief and something like caution, as if I were changing my shape right before her eyes. It made me bristle. I’d warned her against thinking of me as good.
My grip on the parchment tightened.
Markis guffawed. “How quaint—the soldier forms a distaste for killing. Eftan cannot be reliably imprisoned, you fool.” Markis then looked to me with a sweepingly arrogant smile. “Put the man who’s run the palace for over four decades within its dungeon? There is no telling how loyal some of the guards and servants might be to him.”
Aleka stepped forward, as if she wished to speak, but I held up a hand before she could. A thick quiet fell. The stares of those gathered on the deck were just as weighty, but it was Halla who pulled my attention now.