Page 9 of Quicksilver
It wasallluck. Good or bad. And luck could change at any moment.
“The armor in your hand is property of the queen!” the captain shouted. “Toss it over, or we'll kill you where you stand!”
Wide-eyed, Hayden looked down at the gauntlet, staring at it as if this was the first time he realized he was even holding it. He turned the metal over, the muscles in his throat working as he tried to swallow.
If he gave them the armor, they’d slap him in chains and drag him back to the palace. He’d never be seen again. If he didn't surrender the gauntlet, they'd rush him. All of that sharpened, honed metal would find flesh, and the sand would turn red, and I'd stand once again over the dying body of somebody that I loved. Neither option resulted in Hayden walking away from this...and that I couldn't bear.
The captain of the guardians stepped closer, his men following behind as one like some dazzling golden beast broughtforth on a leash. Hayden's back pressed against the tavern door. At the filthy windows, faces appeared then quickly disappeared as the patrons, who had been enjoying an afternoon drink when Madra's men stormed the ward, realized that all hell was erupting in the street outside. Hayden's head whipped around, his wide eyes searching for an escape route that didn't exist. He found me, though, standing twenty feet away, and for a second, relief shuttered across his face.
I was here.
I would help him.
I would get him out of this.
I would fix it, the way I fixed everything.
My throat closed up as I watched his relief drain away again. This wasn't a back-alley brawl or some silly scrape he'd gotten himself into with Carrion. This was about as serious as it could get. He was facing down an entire unit of guardians, and there was nothing I could do about that.
“Throw me the armor!” the captain ordered, his voice booming. From a narrow alleyway on the other side of the tavern, a rag-tag group of children darted out into the street and took off, screaming at the tops of their lungs, but the wall of guardians didn't even flinch. Their focus was trained on Hayden and the piece of gold I had stolen in his hand. Pale as sun-bleached bone, my brother gave me a long, miserable look, and I saw in his eyes what he was planning to do next: the idiot was going torun.
“Don't youdare, boy,” the captain snarled. Obviously, he'd seen Hayden's look as well and knew what he was planning. If Hayden bolted, the guardians would put him down immediately. Madra wouldn't be happy if her men returned to the palace with a dead body in tow. She’d probably told them to bring her back alivingthief—one she could torture and question for hours. A corpse would prove very dull entertainment.
“Saeris!” Hayden moaned. His fear had him by the throat.
“Stay right there!” The captain was almost within lunging distance now. His unit bristled with pointed steel, swords at the ready. It would all be over in seconds.
Hayden's eyes were brimming with tears. “Saeris! I'm sorry!”
“Wait.” The word caught in my aching throat.
“That's it, boy. That's it.” The guardians drew closer.
“Wait! STOP!” My challenge bounced off the buildings on either side of the street this time. The guardians heard my shout, but only the captain deigned to glance in my direction. His attention shifted for a split second, eyes skimming over me, then he quickly returned his focus to Hayden.
“This doesn't concern you, girl,” he said coldly. “Get back inside and let us do our work.”
“Itdoesconcern me.” I approached, biting the inside of my cheek to steady myself. With a mouth full of copper, I spread my arms open wide. “He didn't do anything wrong. I asked him to hold my bag. The piece of armor he's holding is mine—”
The captain's sharp eyes snapped back toward me. “It isnotyours.Only a member of the guard may own that armor. Wearing it is an honor that is earned, and not by the likes ofyou.”
His hessian mask puffed outward with the force of his words; he spat each one of them, fury burning bright in his tone. This wasn't the guardian I'd taken the gauntlet from. No, this one was colder. Harder. Meaner. There were no lines framing his eyes, but his dark brown irises held a bottomless eternity within them that made a chill skitter down the backs of my legs.
“I'm the one who took the gauntlet,” I said slowly. “I'm the one who scaled the wall and escaped with it. Not him.” I jerked my chin toward Hayden. “He had no idea what he was carrying.”
“She's lying,” Hayden said in a shaky voice. “It was me. I took it.”
Of all the dumb, half-thought-through ideas my brother had ever had, this was the most dim-witted. He wanted to protect me. I knew that. He was afraid—more afraid than I'd ever seen him—but beneath his fear, he was steeling himself, drawing together the courage to face what was about to come. Tosaveme.
The gauntlet was my responsibility, though. Elroy had been right back at the workshop; taking the armor had been the most reckless thing I'd ever done. I should never have stolen it. I'd let my greed, my ownhopeget the better of me, though, and I'd be damned if I was going to let Hayden pay the price for something so foolish.
“Don't listen to him,” I said, glowering at him.
“Itook it,” he insisted, glowering right back.
“Ask him where he got it then,” I demanded, facing the captain.
“Enough of this,” the captain barked. “Restrain her.”
