Page 59 of Quicksilver
“Yes.”
“Then your blood should suffice.” He held up his hand. “I already have that. Wait here. Do not move from this spot.”
“You're going right now?”
He raised his eyebrows. “You want to wait? After all of this?”
“No! Not, definitely not. You should go.”
“Close this gate the moment I'm through. Wait an hour, and then activate it again.”
I shook my head. “I should leave it open. What if—”
“What if a horde of feeders burst through five minutes after I leave? You forget, if this pool is open, then all the pools are open.Everywhere.”
“What's a feeder?”
Kingfisher sighed. He lifted Nimerelle over his shoulder, and the sword's scabbard materialized out of thin air, its strap and brace appearing across Fisher's chest just in time for him to slide the blade home behind his back. His greaves and bracers followed, pauldrons forming out of smoke at his shoulders. In less than a second, Kingfisher was armored up and ready for war. “Trust me. You don't want to know. One hour, Osha. You make sure this door is ready to open when I come knocking. Trap me on the other side of it, and I'll lay waste to whatever remains of your shining Silver City.”
He turned and stepped into the pool without a second thought. I shivered as I watched him descend into the quicksilver, my chest tight, my hands clenching into fists even tighter. My heart tripped when his crown of dark waves disappeared beneath the fluctuating surface of the pool.
The quicksilver didn't want to obey when I commanded it to still. There was so much of it. Way more than I'd commanded before, and it had a mind of its own. It didn'twantto sleep, and it took four attempts to force it into submission.
Once the giant pool was a solid, flat panel again, I sat down with my back leaning up against the closest pillar, shivering against the penetrating cold...and the doubt began to set in.
There was nothing stopping Kingfisher from finding Hayden and killing him. Elroy, too. Things would be a whole lot simpler for Kingfisher if he just murdered the people I cared about back in Zilvaren. He wouldn't have to come back through the gate without his pendant. Wouldn't have to deal with another human running around his court. What was to say he'd even gone to Zilvaren? He could have slipped off to another realm entirely. One that was uninhabited. He could be sitting on a rock right now, staring at a foreign sky, waiting for the allotted amount of time to pass, at which point he'd return and tell me my family and friends were already dead, there was nothing he could do about it, and it was time for me to hold up my end of our bargain. How would I know he was telling the truth?
I had no means of telling the time down here, either. I had no timepiece, and there were no windows to watch the progress of Yvelia's single sun across the sky. I had to rely on my own best judgment, which was a problem because—
Click.
I snapped my head up, twisting to the left, toward the source of the sound.
Click, click, click.
Click.
I didn't move. Whatwasthat? I leaned forward, squinting into the dark, blood pumping, heart racing, terrified of what might coalesce out of the pitch-black shadows. What lived in the dark, lightless places of this court? It would be foolhardy to assume that these tunnels were patrolled by Belikon's men and nothing else. A chattering sound echoed around the cavern, and every hair on my body stood on end.
The dagger Kingfisher gave me was sharp, but it would be useless against more than one foe, especially if they attacked from a distance. I began to get to my feet, but—
A streak of white darted out of the darkness, beelining right for me.
White fur, and a bushy tail, and black-tipped ears pinned all the way back.
The fox.
My fox.
He'd come back for me.
The little creature's clawsclick, click, clicked against the ground as he ran. He tried to slow when he reached me, but the stone was too smooth, and his paws found no purchase, and he slid the last four feet. He yelped, diving into my lap, butting his muzzle underneath my elbow so that he could bury his face in my side and hide.
The small barrel of his ribcage rose and fell like crazy as he curled himself around my body, panting like he'd just run five miles.
“You changed your mind, then?” I whispered, painfully aware of how loud the sound of my voice was now that I was alone down here and the quicksilver wasn't muttering to me. The little fox chittered in answer, grumbling away into my armpit.
“All right. All right. Don't worry. We're all allowed to change our minds,” I told him. “Don't suppose you're good at keeping track of time, are you?”
