Trial by Cold

It was important to remember that merely looming over anyone grants one a false impression of majesty.

Lucretia cut an imposing figure, the full definition of wintry dread as she looked down on Cerise and the others with a whole entourage of spirits that consisted of departed humans – a feat that modern studies of Breath would be hard pressed to replicate, on both practical and moral grounds.

It was a veritable kangaroo court of chattering skulls looking down on the wayward university students, seemingly waiting for what excuse would leave them, and under so many eye sockets – not to mention the Queen Apparent’s own blue pair – it would have made anyone fold.

How serendipitous was it that this time the four in the ship, though they were unnerved by the blatant display of power, also knew Lucretia best by her humanity.

The sister of the prince.

Ruben shouted back up to her, defiantly. “We were running an independent investigation into Cerise’s attackers, and it led us here. Or are you going to formally accuse me of anything?”

“Perhaps,” Lucretia innocently retorted, tapping a finger against her cheek. “For starters, interfering with a confidential Guard operation. No one asked for you to be here, and all you’re doing is making things more complicated for us. I’m sure you were down in that underground fighting arena, I just have to find out later.”

The Queen Apparent’s gaze firmed up, amusement turning to stern judgment. “Either way, Ruben, I’ve tired of your gallivanting about ever since you slipped His Highness’s grip. You’ve pushed things too many times.”

“You can’t intimidate us, sister,” Ruben shot back, calm and cold himself.

Lucretia chuffed at the proclamation. “I’m going to rule this kingdom, I definitely can, and no one is going to say otherwise.”

Cerise watched the stand off go down. Ruben was buying a little time, but she wasn’t confident all four of them were going to convince the princess to give up on her current crusade, much less beat her in a fight – How did one fight an army of the dead?

If all four of them were apprehended, either at Lucretia’s hands or the guards, the delay they’d face would be crippling. Even now it felt like they were always just a step short of whatever conspiracy was happening. Ruben would be able to handle warning whoever needed to be told about Black Dog, but now the question was if the final processed product was still on the loose somewhere?

Ruben and the others needed to run for it and to Cerise, the method didn’t need any second guessing.

“How about I don’t care at all about what you think, little Lucy?”

The acidic taunt turned everyone’s head towards the witch, who sauntered forward, hand on her hip and unamused look on her face as she called the blonde woman out.

“Typical, trying to drag everyone into this. I’m not letting Ruben take credit for my investigation. I wanted to get to the bottom of this, and I had the prince and his little toadies along for some extra firepower.So if you want anyone, come after me.”

In one smooth motion, she beckoned Lucretia, her rising arm also providing an underhanded toss that caused a vial to splash against the frozen door, which hissed and sizzled loudly as the ice sealing it rapidly evaporated.

“Cerise…” Ruben hissed, only partially understanding why the witch was painting a target on herself.

“Get out of here and tell whoever you need to about what we found. I’ll be fine.”

“But–”

“Andrew, Damon, follow the plan and get out through the back.”

Before the prince could protest any further, his two friends stopped hesitating, put an arm under each of their leader’s armpits, and bodily hauled him away as he kicked and protested through the open hatch, leaving the two women to look down and up at each other.

“I suppose your surrender will suffice,” Lucretia said, with amused consideration. “Ruben would just find a way to wiggle out of trouble.”

“Oh I’m not going to surrender,” Cerise sneered as she raised her arms. “It’d ruin the narrative if the bad guy didn’t resist.”

The princess matched the witch’s contempt. “Quite so.”

Lucretia gestured, and a frozen skeleton leapt into the hold, hands outstretched to grab Cerise’s face. The effort was stymied by a single raised leg that the spirit slammed its skull into, making it flop to the ground for just an instant before a second, stronger application of the boot shattered its head and dissipated it.

That was the one thing about spirits. Undead and noncorporeal as they were, they still needed to be solid enough to touch the world, and that relationship worked both ways.

“Try a little harder, Lucy,” Cerise taunted, and the skeletons started dropping in. None of them were armed, but where they walked, frost was left in the wake, freezing the floor, and the air. Cerise shied away from their touch, dodging away from their grasping fingers, and only allowing a moment’s contact when her own fists and feet smashed apart each spirit that came for her, even as the interior of the Grand Wolf continued to drop in temperature.

Above, Lucretia made her thoughts known.

“I never liked you. From the beginning, I knew you did something to get your hooks into my brother. What did you make him owe you? And now you’re dragging him into this political quagmire.”

“Oh, I didn’t know there was a minimum level of princeliness he needed to achieve before his nanny allowed him to care about this kingdom,” Cerise retorted, before dropping another vial of liquid heat that momentarily filled the room with a burst of hot air that pushed away the cold and the rime for a few moments. It was hot enough that even a few of the skeletons at the epicenter evaporated.

“He’s certainly not proving any point when he accompanied you on this damn fool adventure,” Lucretia sniffed, idle wave of her finger sending another contingent in, though it didn’t stop her from glancing at her diminishing stock. The witch was putting up a little too much fight. “He should entrust things to the authorities.”

“Like you?” The witch’s scoff echoed up to her. “From what I hear, you’re synonymous with torches and pitchforks. You’d set the continent on fire to burn out everything except the actual danger.”

“Classic exaggeration,” Lucretia answered. “Even when you are here, at the heart of an enemy’s operation, you’d sooner play it down and play nice.”

“Maybe because I’ve got better things to focus on,” Cerise snapped, before dodging another lunging corpse. This time, her foot slipped on the perpetually gathering ice and she slammed into the ground, only narrowly rolling away from one of Lucretia’s summons when it dropped onto the ground after her.

With a spin, the witch’s snapping kick exorcised that particular ghost and let her swirl to her knees.

Everywhere she looked, the skeletons were slowly and surely filling the cargo hold, covering everything in crunching ice. She needed to change things quickly, or her defeat would be especially embarrassing.

She only needed to flick her eyes from one crate to the next to chart a quick course, and in an instant she was away, bounding up a crate containing pottery, onto a stack of long containers holding various exotic planks, before leaping clear across the hold to grab onto the edge of the open ceiling hatch.

Lucretia actually stepped away as she saw her nemesis easily clamber up onto the main deck, in full view of men and women who were either being held in submission as suspects, or guarding them in full plate.

The two had a full living audience now.

“We’re looking at the same thing and all you bother looking for is someone to punish,” Cerise spat.

“That’s what protecting my people is all about,” Lucretia coldly answered.

“That’s gonna blow up in your face one day.”

“I won’t be lectured by some parasitical hanger-on,” the princess said, on the edge of baring her teeth, stopped only by her audience. “I’ve humoured your presence in the University long enough. After I box you up, I’ll be making sure Sanarsmark and my brother are thoroughly disabused of entertaining you.”

“Your Highness! Stay back!” One of the Guards called out in concern. “Let us apprehend her!”

The princess raised a hand to stop the protest. “No, I want to handle this.”

Cerise’s eyes darted to the side, and she wondered how far to push things. Certainly the royal priss would enjoy a wake up call of spilled blood – but this wasn’t the occasion for it. Not with the Guards ready to jump Cerise. Then things would be fully out of control.

Her only hope for now was that Ruben had made his escape while all the attention had been turned on her. Lucretia also seemed intent to keep her brother out of the spotlight, if only to spare the family any embarrassment.

Perhaps things were at an end.

Cerise fixed the princess with her best glare and stalked forward towards her. She didn’t change her course when Lucretia flicked a finger towards her in command. Nor when the first of the cold hands grabbed her by the ankles, slowing her down.

She kept on walking towards Lucretia even as she felt her body stiffen and the cold begin to fog her mind, regardless of what dregs of the Problem-Solving Drink still coursing through her.

If anything, the exhaustion seemed to come up all at once, and Cerise fell to a knee before the princess.

“You’re under arrest,” Lucretia pronounced.

Cerise looked up, the challenge never leaving her face. “You’re only Queen Apparent, remember that.”

“For now.”

“It’s still now.”