Page 144 of Quicksilver
Ren looked for a response from his friend. “Fisher?”
Fisher staredintome. The hard arrogance he would have worn a week or two ago was gone, replaced by caution.
“The only way I'm staying in this tent is if you force me to,” I said in a shaky voice. And here it was. The moment he officially won me or lost me. If he ordered me to stay and took away my will, it didn't matter how much things had changed between us. Nor would it matter how much I needed him. I would never speak to him again. Never look at him again. This would all be over before it had even had a chance to begin. That would hurt, but nowhere near as much as his betrayal would. I waited, praying to gods I’d only recently learned the names of that he was about to make the right decision.
Fisher swallowed hard. “You won't go to Cahlish?” he asked quietly.
“I willnot.”Being banished to Cahlish would be even worse. So far removed that a whole mountain range stood between me and the fight? I'd never forgive him. I wouldn't be able to, even if I tried.
Don't do it, Fisher. Please. Do not fucking send me away.
He'd set his jaw. He'd come to a decision. I braced, waiting for a shadow gate to coalesce, but... “If you come, will you stay right by me?” he asked.
My knees wanted to buckle. I answered quickly, before he could rethink this. “Yes. Absolutely yes.”
“And if I tell you to stay somewhere until danger passes?”
“I'll stay.”
“And if I tell you to run?”
“I'll run.”
He narrowed his beautiful eyes at me.“Swear it.”
“A promise doesn't bind me the way it binds you.”
“I know. But humans still make promises to each other, even though they can be broken, don’t they? Because they trust the other to honor their word.”
“Yes.”
“Then swear, Little Osha, and I’ll trust you.”
A wave of hot emotion knifed me in the center of my chest.Thiswas the kind of male I wanted to be with.“I swear it.”
Kingfisher nodded, accepting my promise. “All right then. So be it.” Quickly, he went to the trunk at the foot of his bed and opened the lid, taking out a long bolt of fabric. I recognized it immediately. It was the bundle Fisher had fastened to Aida's saddle when we'd fled the Winter Palace. Ren's eyes went wide as Fisher placed it on the bed and unraveled the swathes of material, revealing the sword within.
Not just any sword. The sword that had started all of this. The one I'd pulled from the pool of frozen quicksilver in Madra's palace. Solace’s hilt flashed in the firelight, bright silver now, the tarnish of age that had dulled its edge nowhere to be seen. It was a breathtaking weapon. The kind songs are written about. Its pommel was embellished with a crescent moon, the horns of the crescent so close that they almost touched to form a whole circle. Script writing flowed around the hilt, down over the cross guard, and spilled along the edge of the blade, written in Old Fae.
Fisher turned and held out the sword to me. “My father’s bones rest somewhere in Zilvaren. His sword spent the past millennia there, which...” He paused, considering the sword. “Which makes it more Zilvaren than Yvelian now, I think.”
The air was on fire, too hot to breathe. Fisher unhooked a leather scabbard from the wall of the tent and took it down, sliding Solace into it. Speechless, I lifted my arms as he wound the scabbard's belt around my waist. His hands worked deftly, adjusting the belt to fit my much narrower waist, and it was all I could do not to burst into tears.
His father's sword?
Ren stood, arms folded over his chest, watching. Our eyes met, and worry swelled behind my ribs. Would I find judgment on his face? Anger over a valuable Fae heirloom being passed into the hands of a human? Of course not. Ren’s expression was one of deep satisfaction. It seemed to say,'Good. At last. This is as it was always meant to be, Saeris Fane.'
Fisher straightened and took me in. “Okay. Are you ready?”
“Yes.” My heart kicked like a mule against my ribs, and yet I felt steady with the weight of the sword at my hip.
“Be unrelenting and unmerciful in the face of the wicked dead,” Fisher said.
Ren laid a steadying hand on my shoulder. “And if you should find soul sundered from flesh, order a drink for us at the first tavern you come across in the afterlife. We’ll settle the tab when we get there.”
31
THE DARN
