Page 19 of Quicksilver
The hunter-green dress she wore was a work of art. Brocaded, the bodice was embroidered with golden thread thatshimmered when it caught the light. The full skirt was decorated with embroidered leaves. The stranger grinned at me, still clutching hold of her books. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
The urge to cough hit me out of nowhere. I did my best to answer her question, but I couldn't help it. I started to sputter, a spiderweb of pain spreading up my sides as my body jerked.
“Oh, no. Wait. Here, let me help you,” the girl said. She rushed into the room, set her pile of books down on a small table by the window, then picked up a cup and brought it to the bed. Holding it out, she beamed, offering it to me. “There. Down in one. Eskin said you'd be parched when you came around.”
I shrank back into the bed, tucking my arms in tight against my body, eyeing her warily. “What is that?”
“Nothing. Just water, I promise.”
Nothing?I took the cup, peering over its rim, feeling lightheaded. She wasn't lying. The receptacle was full to the brim with water. Four days' worth. I'd spend a month trying to get out from underneath the debt this amount of water would put me in down in the Third. And she was just...handingit to me?
“Go on.” She smiled uncertainly. “Drink. I'll refill it for you when you're done.”
She was toying with me. Well, more fool her. I held the cup to my lips and started to drink, swallowing as quickly as I could. The water was cold—so cold that it made my throat ache. It hurt to drink it so quickly, but I wasn't giving her a moment to change her mind. By the time she realized that I wasn't entitled to a ration this big, the water would be gone, and there wouldn't be any way for her to get it back.
Gods, it was clean. Clean water. It almost tasted sweet.
“Whoa, now,” the girl said. “Slowly does it. You'll make yourself sick if you're not...careful.”
I'd already finished, though. I handed her back the cup, expecting her to hold out a hand for payment now that I'ddrained it dry. But she just smiled and returned to the table by the window, where she refilled the cup from a tall copper pitcher. I eyed her suspiciously when she came back and gave me the full cup again, wondering if she was mad.
“I'm Everlayne. I've been visiting you,” she said.
“I know.”
She glanced down at the cup, nodding to it. “It's okay. You can drink that, too, if you're thirsty.”
I sipped the water this time, watching, waiting for her to pull a dagger from her voluminous skirts and pounce.
“Since I told you my name, maybe you could tell me yours?” She canted her head to one side. “Gods, actually, do you mind if I pull up a chair? I've been climbing up and down the stairs all day, and I forgot to eat this morning.”
“Sure?”
She—Everlayne—grinned as she snagged a simple wooden chair and dragged it to the bedside. As soon as she had the chair positioned to her liking, she sat down heavily in it, tucking rogue strands of hair behind her ears. “All right. There. I’m ready. What are you, then? A Marika? An Angelica?” Her eyes, bright as jade, flashed as she spoke. “I'm not a very patient person,” she admitted in a confessional tone. “I've been calling you Liss for the past ten days. That seemed as good a name as any, but...” She slowed, the light in her eyes dimming as she took in the look on my face. “What is it? What's the matter?”
“Yourears,” I whispered. I'd been staring at them ever since she'd tucked her loose strands of hair behind them. They were...
I swallowed hard.
Took a deep breath.
They werepointed.
Everlayne touched her finger to the tips of her ears, frowning softly. Her expression went blank when she realized what I was referring to. “Ahh. Right. They aren’t the same as yours, no.”
The Fae were warmongers. Cannibals. Beastly creatures with no temperance, sense of morality, nor any notion of mercy. The eldest Immortals visited their wrath upon the land with an iron fist, leaving a path of chaos and destruction in their wake. The seven cities rejoiced when—
“It's upset you. My appearance,” Everlayne said quietly. She placed her hands in her lap, all of her effervescence quickly fallen flat. “You've heard of my kind?” she asked.
“Yes.” Was this really happening, or was this some kind of sick joke? Was Hayden teasing me? Getting me back for being so cruel to him the last time I saw him? This would be a fine way of getting revenge, making me doubt my sanity, but...
I'd left my brother in the street outside The Mirage. I'd gone with Captain Harron. I'd met the Queen, and she'd ordered my execution, along with the execution of my friends, family, and every other living soul in the Third.
Death had come for me, with wavy black hair and wicked green eyes.
He'd carried me away from that place.
He had brought mehere.
