Page 158 of Quicksilver
“So you're just gonna fuckingkillyourself?”
He was tensed, a bowstring ready to snap. “Renfis will hel—”
I shoved him as hard as I could, pushing him away. He toppled back, landing on his ass, the move taking him by surprise. I jumped up and stepped over him, putting space between us. “Don't youdarefinish that fucking sentence,” I seethed. “You're so—so fuckingselfish!”
The silver in his right eye swallowed the green. Righting himself, he sat up, hooking his elbows around his knees. And, gods, the expression on his face. He was ruined.
“Iknow,”he choked out. “I don't want this. I want...” But whatever he would say after those words was too painful. He bounced his legs, letting out a shaky breath.
Suddenly, it hit me. “You can't just give up. If you die, so does Lorreth.”
“What?”
“You saved him. You gave him part of your soul. If you die, you'll be trapped, waiting for your soul to be made whole again before you can move on.”
Fisher arched an eyebrow, displeased. “That was private. I suppose he's just going around telling everyone that now. Look, I've made my peace with whatever happens to me after. If I'm stuck, floating around the ether for a thousand years, then so be it. That will be infinitely better than the alternative.”
“Lorreth said he'd die himself before he let that happen. Are you really going to cut his life short, too?”
“Lorreth won’t even know I'm gone,” he growled.
“Of course he will! You seriously think he just won’t notice you’re gone? Are you going to tell him you're moving to another realm to live a better life or something?”
“Something like that,” he mumbled.
“You're such a fucking idiot, Fisher. These people are your friends. They love you. You're really going to ask Ren to help kill you? Then keep it a secret from everyone else who cares about you? You'd really put that on him? And Lorreth is smart. He isn't going to accept that you're abandoning Yvelia and you won't be coming back.”
“He's going to have to, isn't he?”
“Like hell he will.” I headed for the door.
“Where are you going, Saeris?” he called after me.
“To sleep. And in the morning, I'm going to the library, and I'm going to research how to save Everlayneandyou. Because I don't just throw my hands up and accept defeat when things get hard. I'm honestly shocked to learn thatyoudo.”
36
ISEABAIL
I triedto fall asleep in the room we slept in when we first arrived at Cahlish, but Carrion's snoring was so bad that I dragged a duvet into one of the formal living rooms and passed out on one of the overstuffed couches.
I woke from a fitful sleep sometime after dawn and found Fisher in the high-backed armchair beside me, staring at Omnamerrin’s jagged peak out of the window. The beautiful scent of wild mint made me want to burst into tears, but I managed to stay calm as I folded the duvet and fluffed the imprint of my body out of the couch cushions. I wanted nothing more than to walk away without interacting with Fisher at all, but he caught my hand as I passed him, and I didn't have the energy or the will to pull away. He rested his forehead against my arm, closing his eyes, and a tiny piece of me cracked and broke. I ran my free hand gently through his hair, screaming inside, so fucking angry at him, and at myself, and at the gods, and the whole fucking universe for doing this to us.
This wasn't fair. None of it was.
He didn't fight me when I let go of his hand and walked away. I paused in the doorway, glancing back at him over my shoulder,and immediately wished I hadn't. He'd gone back to staring out of the window, but he'd covered his mouth with one hand, his fingers digging into his cheek. The pronounced shadows under his eyes told of countless sleepless nights. Even the defeated set of his shoulders showed how exhausted he was. I couldn't walk away from him when he looked like that. I just fucking couldn't.
I dropped the duvet there in the doorway. Fisher closed his eyes when he realized that I was coming back to him. All of the nerves and trepidation I used to feel over touching him were gone. He leaned into me, resting his head against my stomach, wrapping his arms around my legs, placing his hands lightly on the backs of my thighs, and I held him. Seconds passed. Long minutes. I rubbed a hand between his shoulder blades in circles, hurting, and aching and wishing.
Eventually, he sat upright and sank back into the chair, his cheeks flushed. He refused to look at me, but he nodded, as if to say, 'It's okay. I'm okay.' And so I left.
“The last of the witches abandoned Yvelia a hundred years ago,” Lorreth said. “No one's seen a member of the Balquhidder Clan in twice as long. We don't even know where they went! We have less than thirty-six hours before we need to be in Gillethrye, and we can't spend those hours looking under rocks and shouting into holes in the ground, looking for a bunch of flatulent old hags who don't want to be found.”
Danya snorted.
No one else in the library laughed.
Not even Carrion. But that was probably because he didn’t realize that flatulent meant gassy.
