Page 72 of Sonnets and Serpents
“I don’t want to risk hurting anyone. The kuveti already want to arrest me, so”—Eliza steeled herself—“I’ll be the bait.”
Silas raised his eyebrows, apparently impressed, and despite herself, she delighted in that.
Even if she was about to get herself thrown in prison. On purpose.
Clearly, Silas’s thoughts followed the same track. “You know there’s no guarantee,” he said softly, his dark eyes fixed on hers. “We might take all this risk and not find either of them. Something might go wrong, and we won’t make it back out.”
Leaning forward on the table, Eliza folded her arms, hushing her voice. “You know, I’d almost think you’re getting cold feet ... if vipers had feet.”
Silas groaned loudly enough to echo from the domed ceilings. He stood, pushing away from the table, and Eliza scrambled to follow, grinning all the way.
“No, no, you walk over there.” He gave her a light push on the shoulder. “I don’t want you near me.”
She feigned a dramatic gasp. “It was just a joke, Silas.”
“The worst joke I’ve ever heard.”
“Maybe it will sound better in Pravish.Engerek avaklari soguk... uh,yoktur—”
“Stop.” He groaned again. “It’s so much worse. ‘Cold feet’ is an idiom, so you can’t translate it literally. You sound ridiculous.”
“Not as ridiculous as you talking about turning decent people into snakes.”
She bit her tongue, wondering if she’d taken it too far, if they’d lose the humor, but Silas’s shoulders held their easy, relaxed curve, and he kept one hand in his pocket as he walked, the other dangling near her, close enough to reach for.
Eliza forced her eyes back up to his face.
“At least I can translate mine in any language,” he said, shooting her a glance with a raised eyebrow. In return, she gave him a smile.
But she’d killed her own mood. Her thoughts spiraled back to his earlier words.Something might go wrong, and we won’t make it back out.
“I’ll write a letter to Aria,” she said. “In case everything goes horribly wrong.”
She felt a twinge of guilt. When her sister had needed her, she’d fled the country, yet she was depending on Aria’s help like always. It wasn’t fair to her older sister.
But Silas said, “That’s not a bad backup plan. Ransom from a queen.”
At the very least, she needed to take that option for his sake, because it wasn’t just her own safety on the line. And despite his faults, Eliza had no desire to see Silas trapped in prison.
Especially not a prison that had sent a string of magic users to the graveyard—at least one withoutbones.
“You won’t let them know you have magic, right?”
“Obviously not,” he said. “I want it to be a surprise when I slip through the bars, and I don’t want to risk being slapped with a set of magic-restraining manacles, if they have those. I have enough on my wrist as it is.”
Against her better judgment, Eliza reached for his hand. Just for a moment. She gave it a quick squeeze and released.
But her fingers continued to tingle long after she let go.
Silas insisted on scouting the prison more thoroughly and getting a better network of snakes in the area before entering. Since their last encounter with the kuveti had gone awry, he was determined to be careful about this one, and to his pleasant surprise, Eliza agreed. Though she was often reckless, she’d also shown a great capacity for planning and execution. She thrived with a goal to focus on.
The biggest difficulty was contingency planning—if theydidn’tfind a tunnel entrance, they would need another escape. Leaving as snakes was better than trying to sneak out as humans, but even then, two adders coming out of the prison depths would be suspicious. The kuveti had experience with magic users, so Silas couldn’t expect them to ignore a pair of animals out of place.
He needed help.
While in Kerem’s office, Silas worked up the nerve to ask for it.
“I’m doing some ... field research,” he said tentatively, glancing at Eliza in the corner. She had her nose in her sonnet book. “And I need help with one small aspect.”
