Page 91 of Sonnets and Serpents
“It couldn’t have been more than a day,” said Henry, although he rubbed self-consciously at his beard.
Looking at Eliza, Silas left that one open for her to address. She sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, playing with the ends of her scarf, and judging by her drooping eyelids, she was using the movement to stay awake. Silas felt a twinge of guilt.
“I’ve been in Pravusat for weeks,” she whispered. “Looking for you.”
Henry made a strangled sound. “No, I ... it ... it wasn’t like shediscussedthings with me. We couldn’t understand each other. I just knew she was scared, and I figured ... she’d saved my life, the least I could do was try to help.”
Silas gave him a flat stare. “Not the best idea to trust a stranger who has a mysterious, magical box.”
“I’m a knight, and we vow to protect even ... questionable people.”
He and Eliza were certainly perfect for each other. Silas’s chest tightened at the thought.
“I followed her into the city,” Henry went on, “and she led me to that underground hiding spot. I couldn’t sleep—my arm hurt. She brought that box over, and the next thing I knew, I couldn’t feel any pain. Then I woke to ... Eliza.”
He glanced over, and Eliza gave a tired smile.
“Anything else you remember?” Silas asked.
Henry shook his head. “I’m sorry. She tried to speak to me, but I never learned any Pravish. I was planning on crossing the border into Thesland to find work there. My father traveled there when he was young, and I always loved the stories.”
“It’s beautiful, so I’ve heard.” Silas shrugged. Thesland was a small country of mountains and rivers, where people lived in roving groups rather than in cities. He’d met only a few Thesan students at university.
“I guess my plans are different now,” Henry murmured.
“Well, you don’t have to figure them out tonight. It’s late. We should all get some rest.”
Although it was dishonest to the university, Silas picked yet another lock—on the door across the hall—and offered the room to Henry. It wasn’t as if anyone else was using the earthquakedorm, and Silas hoped to pay the deficit once he had a real salary.
Henry thanked him and closed the door, but Eliza hovered in the hallway, rubbing her eyes.
“We’ve filled three out of the four rooms,” she joked. “I guess that means we need to add one more person to the group. Maybe Tulip’s looking for a place to stay.”
Silas stared at her with raised eyebrows, and he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or not. She always put him off-balance.
She ducked her head. “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier.”
Had she? Silas cast his mind back but couldn’t recall an offense.
“It’s been a stressful day,” he finally said.
“Can you believe only this morning, we were in prison?”
He remembered the cell all too vividly, sitting in the dim light next to her, thinking of her as a warrior and leaning in for a kiss.
Just how much power did she have over him, and how had she gained it without him even realizing?
“I know I’ve already said thank you,” she went on, “but it can’t cover everything you’ve done for me. I guess I could say it again in Pravish.” She flashed a smile that quickly died. “What I mean is, I really ... appreciate you.”
She glanced up at him through her lashes, then looked down again, and Silas hated the way this felt like a goodbye.
When he didn’t speak, she rushed to add more. “The way you’ve helped Henry is wonderful too. You’re a good person, Silas.”
“Funny,” he managed. “I seem to recall you saying I might kill all my students.”
It was a pitiful attempt to resurrect their banter from the alley, a moment when he’d felt like she knew him completely.
But that moment was gone.
