Page 78 of The Cradle of Ice

Hyck was doing just that and dropped his arms. “How long has Shiya been gone?”

“Over two bells. She should’ve been back by now.”

“You don’t know that. None of us saw those torches that drew her into the sea. We can’t say how far off they were.”

“But we all heard those cannon blasts.”

Even Rhaif had. The booms had echoed across the sea like distant thunder.

“Those came from the Sparrowhawk,” Glace said. “I know the timbre of those cannons as surely as my father’s bellow. The ship is battling something out there.”

“But we’ve heard nothing for a spell. Is that good or bad?”

Glace shrugged. “My father is a hard one to kill. Besides, we have our own challenge here.”

Their gazes turned to Rhaif.

“What do we do with him?” Hyck said. “Wait for rescue or intercede?”

Rhaif coughed and spoke through his shivering. “Can I have a say in the matter of my own fate?”

They stared, awaiting his verdict.

“Hack my leg off if you have to,” he said. “But get this sodding poker out of my thigh.”

Perde grunted and stood up. “I’ll crack open the last cask of ale. He’ll need a cup or two of courage before you get to cuttin’ on his leg.”

Rhaif twisted to look at the man. “Better bring me the whole cask.”

Glace left Hyck to guard the door and drew a dagger from her belt. She set about heating the blade over a flaming tin of flashburn. Perde returned with a cup of ale. Herl helped Rhaif sit up enough to take it with trembling hands. Rhaif downed the cup in one gulp, staring all the while at Glace, knowing what was coming.

“More,” Rhaif said, pushing the cup at Perde.

His order was obliged—and thrice more after that.

He suddenly didn’t mind warm ale.

Finally, Glace turned and nodded to the twin brothers. “Hold him down.”

Rhaif groaned as he was laid flat and rolled on his side. It felt like shifting over a bed of hot coals. As his leg was exposed, he grimaced at the sight of the black barb, the bubbling blood, and the greenish veins driving outward from the wound.

Glace knelt next to him and lifted her fiery-tipped blade.

“Wait!” Rhaif gasped, and held out a shaking arm toward Perde. “One sip more. I’m not feeling quite courageous enough.”

The brother indulged, emptying the last of the cask, and handed over the cup.

Herl did not look pleased. “He did drain it all.”

Rhaif tilted his head and glared over at the man. “You’re welcome to take my place.”

Herl frowned, not accepting his generous offer.

Rhaif turned back and swallowed the last of the ale. He took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded to Glace. “Do it.”

As she shifted closer, Rhaif leaned back. His head spun, but he didn’t know if it was from poisonous delirium or drunkenness.

“I’ll be quick,” Glace promised.