Page 24 of Suffer No Fools
"It would be faster to sail around," Tovey said.
Stan lifted the boat over their heads and moved it to the opposite shore five hundred yards ahead.
Tovey opened his mouth, and Hugo cringed. He didn't want to hear another cutting word against Stan. It seemed that was all that ever came out of Tovey's mouth.
"Walking will be good for all of us," he said. "Right, Frost?"
"I'd be better if Stan would carry me." He smirked, and Stan laughed.
"As you wish, old man."
"I'll be bloody exhausted when we finish," Frost continued. "So will you, Your Majesty."
"I don't mind," Hugo said. "It feels so good to be out of the hold." He steeled himself for rejection before he asked, "Will I be able to come above deck once the ocean is frozen behind us?"
"I don't see why not," Stan said.
"We'll have to see if anyone is following us, first." Frost bowed his head. "If not, you will be safe on deck."
That was enough to bolster Hugo's hope while they worked. Holding the ice weaves long enough to feed them into Frost's spell was the hardest part. Ice was slippery, like tears. Hugo tried not to think of the source of his sorrow at the core of his power, but memories of his mother flooded back each time he grabbed hold of a new weave.
"Stop resisting." Stan's voice was soft in his ear.
"It hurts so much." Hugo sank against Stan as the larger man enveloped him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.
"It won't always hurt." Frost startled them both with his nearness. "I'm sorry. I should have suggested some comfort for you while you learn. My students are all much younger. One's greatest sorrow was leaving home in Landale. Another's was being told she couldn't have dessert."
"Imagine that," Stan said. "Your little heart breaking because you couldn't have a slice of cake."
Hugo swallowed back another memory of his mother. "Maybe it's that easy," he said. "I'm trying to embrace my biggest sorrow, but what if it's as simple as something I wanted but couldn't have as a child? I wanted a new riding saddle for my birthday when I was eight, and I cried for weeks when I didn't get it."
Hugo still remembered the horse, a sturdy mare, and the saddle, a beautiful dark brown leather polished to perfection. What his mother hadn't told him was that she was training a new horse for him for Solstice, a giant stallion. The saddle wouldn't have fit him. She had another saddle made. Instead of being grateful for the presents he had received, Hugo had been furious about the wait.
"I was the worst little brat to my mom," he said. "She tried so hard to please me, and I was an ungrateful twat."
"You were mourning your father," Stan reminded him. "That couldn't have been easy for either of you."
"No." With the fresh guilt of his poor behavior behind him, Hugo focused more on the sorrow he'd felt when his birthday came and went with no new saddle. He remembered throwing himself down on the hay mound beside the stable and crying until he fell asleep. It was an old sorrow, yes, but easier to hold without it overwhelming him.
"That's it," Frost said. "Nice and steady. We'll be done in no time."
When Hugo closed his eyes, he could almost see the weaves he was directing toward Frost to fuel the larger spell. It was the largest spiderweb Hugo had ever seen, except he couldn't see it, not really. He felt its enormity as his power stretched to reinforce Frost's weaves.
Tovey leaned back against his knees, startling him. He opened his eyes and glanced down. Tovey was staring up at him with tears in his eyes. Gods, what had Hugo done to upset him?
"Focus," Frost ordered, reminding him of the job before them.
He closed his eyes and rested his hand on Tovey's shoulder, hoping to give the air weaver some comfort. He caressed Stan's arm with his other hand, grateful his hands weren't necessary to feed Frost's weaves.
His attention was, though. He concentrated on his youthful sorrow and his privilege when he'd pouted over not getting what he wanted for his birthday. It was hard to dredge that memory without the fresh shame for the way he'd treated his mother, but he would deal with that emotion later. Now, he had a job to do.
Frost's spell stretched farther than one thousand miles, Hugo suspected. He had sensed the distance growing between him and the palace. The ice covered much more than the last one thousand miles they'd sailed since the sun rose that morning. By his estimation, it stretched almost halfway back to the palace when Frost finally crystallized it into place and the ocean before them crackled and solidified into a thick white sheet.
Tovey stood, but before he could run away and sulk, Hugo took his hand. "Is everything all right?" he asked.
"No. Yes. It's ..." he glanced at Stan, "complicated."
"The best things always are." Hugo gave Tovey his warmest smile.
