Page 175 of Quicksilver
“That's probably the weird...moss...these water sprites rubbed...all over me...” Carrion croaked. “It had a strange...funk...to it.”
Gods alive, he didn't know when to quit.
“Smart mouth,” Malcolm sneered. “I'll enjoy draining you once all of this is done.”
“You want to know why I went into that quicksilver?” Fisher asked. It was a distraction. Something to divert attention away from Carrion. If we ever got out of this alive, I was going to wring the smuggler’s neck for his stupidity, and I thought Fisher might, too. Fisher's ploy worked, though. Malcolm let go of Carrion, disgust playing over his features as he turned back to Fisher.
“He left because the madness in his veins broke him at last,” Belikon ventured. “We all knew it would eventually. He was afflicted with it long before he showed up at the gates of Gillethrye.”
“Is that true, my love?” Malcolm asked. “Has that quicksilver in your head finally pushed you beyond the bounds of sanity?”
Fisher rubbed his forehead. “I've felt better. But no. That isn't the reason why I left.” He angled his shoulders a little, shifting his weight into the balls of his feet. I was watching him so intently that I saw it happen. I'd seen him fight enough times to know that Fisher didn't just shift his weight for no reason.
I stiffened, eyes widening.What are you doing, Fisher?
His brows twitched. Barely noticeable.“Just don't move.”To Malcolm, he said,“I went into that quicksilver because I felt my father's sword calling to me. And I knew I'd need it for this.”
He became smoke. He was hurt and tired, but I'd never witnessed him move this fast. He came forme.One handclosed on my hip. The other reached to the other hip—for the sword there, sitting in its scabbard. He drew Solace, the blade becoming a flare of brilliant light in the ash-choked air, and then Fisher was spinning. He moved like liquid. Like lightning. Likevengeance.
Ducking low, he spun, reversing the weapon so the tip of the blade pointed down. Dropping to one knee, he clasped the hilt in both hands and drove the sword in an arc, back and up...
...into Belikon's stomach.
It happened fast. Really fast. I was barely able to track the movement.
Belikon hadn't expected it, that was for sure. A wet gurgle came out of the Yvelian King's mouth as Fisher ripped his father's sword free, spun again, and drove the tip straight into Belikon's throat. He gritted his teeth as he leaned his weight on the weapon, and the gleaming blade pushed all the way out the back of Belikon's neck.
“I don't need magic to mess you up, youfuck,” he growled. “This is for me. But mostly, it’s for my parents.”
Madra, Undying Queen of the shining Silver City, the Banner in the North, unleashed a blood-curdling scream. And all hell broke loose.
42
THAT’LL COST YOU
A riverof blood spewed down Belikon's chin. It flowed from the gaping hole in his stomach, too, thick and steaming hot in the cold night air. Malcolm's eyes narrowed to vertical slits, black veins creeping down his cheeks.
“That was ill-advised.” The vampire lunged, launching at Fisher, but sharp silver slashed through the air, bringing him up short. Avisiéth nicked his neck, the very end of Lorreth's sword barely kissing the vampire's skin, but it was enough to make the bastard screech. Black smoke hissed from the tiny wound.
“RUN!” Fisher bellowed.
Chaos exploded on the amphitheater floor.
Harron darted for me. The guards restraining me, idiots that they were, let me go as the silver-eyed monster flew in our direction. With my hands free, I palmed the daggers strapped to my thighs andmoved.
Harron's run-in with the quicksilver had definitely taken its toll. The captain still moved with lethal determination, but he was nowhere near as fast as he had been. And my hands weren’t tied behind my back this time. Adopting an offensive stance, I sprung into his guard, surprising him. He must have thought Iwould do nothing but defend, but the dagger I thrust up into his gut non-too-politely notified him otherwise.
“Bitch!” he roared. Retreating, he stared down at the dagger protruding from his body, then ripped it out. The metal clattered to the stone.
Five feet away, Carrion wielded Simon like he’d been training with the weapon for years. He cut through three feeders, slicing their heads from their shoulders in quick order.
“MOVE!” Fisher boomed. “TO THE LABYRINTH!”
“So eager to run back into your cage, pet?” Malcolm called to him. With his head dipped and his shoulders tensed up around his ears, he looked like a dune viper, coiling back, preparing to strike. He knocked aside Madra's guards in their shining golden armor as he prowled not for Fisher, but for Lorreth.
The warrior dropped low, Avisiéth raised again, ready to take on the vampire, but Fisher's voice cut across the melee. “Lorreth, no! Don't engage! I mean it! Get into the labyrinth!”
“That'll cost you,” Harron said. And he smashed the hilt of his dagger into my nose. I'd let myself lose focus, and ithadcost me. Blood exploded out of my nose, spraying Harron's gaunt face, but...the pain I braced for didn't come.
