Page 60 of Silver in the Bone

“You know I love a bet, but, alas, no. Not all of us can be as stoic or manly a specimen as you, Lark,” Emrys said.

He was smiling, but there was a sharpness there I hadn’t expected. One I immediately wanted to press against, just to see what would happen.

“Will you at least take the gloves off?” I asked.

Neve swayed on her feet, falling against my shoulder. I caught her before she could drop to the floor.

“Neve? Are you all right?” I asked. Cabell came to her other side and helped me lower her into the room’s lone chair.

“’S fine,” Neve said, her head bobbing. She tried to wave away our concerns. “Just ... tired.”

Olwen was there in a heartbeat. “Got a touch of the swoons from using all that magic, do you? Flea, will you put those hands to use and start a fire? Do you remember the mixture for the hot tonic?”

“One part cinnamon,” the girl said sullenly, “one part toad tongue—”

“What?” Neve asked, eyes going wide.

“The girl is having a laugh,” Bedivere clarified.

“That was unkind,” Olwen told Flea. “And you need to prove to me you’ve been studying.”

Flea huffed out a sigh but got to work kindling a fire and setting a small cauldron above it. She used a nearby jug to fill it with water and recited, in a petulant voice that made me instantly like her, “One part cinnamon, three parts apple—boiled fifteen minutes.”

“We’ve barely any of the apples left,” Caitriona protested. “The blessings of the sacred grove are not for the likes of sorceresses.”

“It’s really fine,” Neve said weakly. “I just need to rest.”

“Without a good cup of tonic, you’ll need to sleep for a fortnight to regain your strength,” Olwen told her. “We saw your light from here. That was no small magic.”

Caitriona scoffed and looked on the verge of saying something snippy to that, but Bedivere placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

“Let’s begin with how they found their way to the isle, shall we?” he suggested. “The pathways have been sealed for an age.”

“They’re looking for their father,” Neve said sleepily.

I turned to her, horror streaking through me. My mind struggled for words, any sort of lie to undo what the sorceress had just done. “No, we—we were—”

In a single statement, Neve had exposed our plan and blown any possible cover.

“Is that true?” Bedivere asked. To my surprise, he and the others looked intrigued.

“Yes,” I said finally. I could admit, however begrudgingly, that the best lies often bore a piece of the truth. “We think he became ... disoriented in the mists. He may have been searching for a way here.”

Flea stood from the small hearth, her face alight with more than the fire’s glow as she looked to Caitriona. “Oh! There’s the—”

“Hush,” Caitriona told her sharply. “Don’t you have chores, Flea?”

“I finished ’em,” the girl shot back.

“What were you going to say?” I pressed. Flea’s words had made my heart skip with possibility, but now she only glared at me, retreating to stand in front of Caitriona.

The crackle of the firewood was the only sound between us for several moments.

“I don’t mean to be a bother, but ... ,” Emrys said weakly, “I wouldn’t have taken the bandage off if I’d known you wanted to have an in-depth discussion first.”

“Oh dear, yes,” Olwen said.

She retrieved a pair of shears from the worktable and set about cutting his sleeve and removing pieces of it from the open wounds. Emrys hissed as she dabbed at it with something that smelled vaguely sweet and not at all like alcohol.

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