Page 111 of Quicksilver
By mid-afternoon, we were recovered and brave enough to risk a late lunch, though. Carrion hiked down into the camp while I began the refining process, returning just as it started to snow with an armload of snacks and a pitcher full of water.
We sat outside and ate. Cold cuts of meat. Pieces of cheese. A small container of nuts. Bread, and a handful of tiny, salted fish that were delicious.
“Hard at work?”
I nearly choked when Kingfisher emerged from inside the forge, sneaking up behind us. The moment I saw him, my traitorous mind took me back to last night, and his hands and mouth on my body, and the million sinful things he'd donewith his tongue. He glanced at me and then narrowed his eyes, turning his focus toward the camp as if he was remembering me in a bunch of compromising positions, too. Then I saw his bleeding lip, the shadow of a bruise on his jaw, and the fact that his shirt was spattered with red blood, not black, and my mind went elsewhere.
“What happened to you? Why are you bleeding?”
“Training,” he said stiffly. “Don’t change the subject. Why aren’t you working?”
Suddenly, I didn’t care so much that he was injured. In fact, I kind of felt like hurting him myself. “Since we're notslaves,we're taking a break to eat. Look, two plates and everything,” I said, showing him that I was, in fact, eating my own food and not sharing Carrion’s. Not that it seemed to make him any happier. “And anyway,” I said. “I've done all I can for the day.”
“And the trials you ran?”
I curved an eyebrow at him. “What doyouthink?”
He said nothing by way of response.
“Ihave a question,” I said to him. “Back at Cahlish, you hid the quicksilver from me in that little box on the shelf. Today, you gave it to Carrion and made him wait for me halfway up the godscursed mountain. Why do you insist on hiding it from me? Why can’t you just leave it out for me. Y’know, so it’s easy to find? Maybe if I didn’t waste so much time tracking it down before I can run my trials, I’d have time to runmoreof them.”
There were shadows under Fisher's eyes. He looked tired. “Forgive me for making the day a little more interesting for you. It’s good for you to improve at finding the quicksilver. You never know when you might need to detect small amounts over great distances.”
“It’sannoying.”
“Well, you have your quicksilver now. Do you have more trials planned for the afternoon?”
Peevishly, I said, “Nope. I have to refine the silver.”
Fisher cast Carrion a dubious glance. “Doyouknow anything about refining silver?”
“Not a fucking thing,” he answered. “I'm more of a logistics guy.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m very good at moving things from one place to another.”
“We have plenty of other asses for that. You should go and find something useful to do,” he snapped.
“Uh, he's been helpingme!” I got up, brushing one hand off on my pants as I handed the small bowl of nuts to Carrion, who took the bowl and tossed a nut into his mouth, shooting Fisher a needling smile. Fisher didn't react. Not personally, I supposed. A wave of black smoke swept over the campfire we'd started to keep warm while we ate, hitting Carrion square in the chest. It wasn't a powerful blow. It was only equivalent to a strong breeze, but it sent the bowl of nuts toppling from Carrion's hands, scattering its contents all over the ground.
Such a child.
“Find Ren. Ask him for a job, or I'll find one for you,” Fisher said. “I'm assuming cleaning the latrines doesn't sound appealing to you since you have no magic and would have to do it by hand?”
Carrion's grin faltered. “You are extra fucking miserable today. You should really get laid. Might help improve your mood. Tell him, Sunshine.”
I choked. Loudly. Carrion couldn't have made a more unfortunate suggestion if he'd tried. I thumped my chest, trying to get a breath down, and all the while, Fisher just looked at me. He wore no emotion. No expression at all. The quicksilver swirling in his iris was the only thing suggesting that he might not be as calm inside as he appeared on the outside. His eyesseemed to drink the light as he eventually turned a disdainful glare on Carrion.
“Don’t call her Sunshine,” he commanded.
“Why not?”
If Carrion’s plan was to poke the bear, then he sure as hell knew how to go about it. But Kingfisher didn’t respond to the taunting note in his question. He just cocked his head a little, nostrils flaring, and spoke in a low rumble. “Because she is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm. The smoke that rolls across a battlefield before the killing starts. You have no idea what she is. What she could be.Youshould call herMajesty.”
Heat flared across my face. It scorched me behind the center point of my chest, turning my insides to cinder. I’d expected a quip from him about Carrion’s suggestion that he get laid, not...that. What had that evenbeen?Carrion withered under the weight of the quiet anger simmering in Kingfisher’s eyes, his poorly hidden smile slipping from his face.
I’d found myself in some awkward situations before, but this was by far the most uncomfortable I’d ever felt. I cleared my throat, reminding both of them that Iwasstill present. “Did you need something, Fisher? Or can we get back to work?” I asked Fisher.
