Page 32 of Quicksilver
Kingfisher didn't pay him a lick of attention. He was still glaring atme.“This sword has slain thousands,” he seethed.
“I wouldn't have thoughtthatwas anything to brag about,” I replied. “You should probably get it looked at.”
“Hah!” Renfis stuffed his fist into his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he tried to swallow down his laughter. Rusarius glanced at each of us, his warm brown eyes bouncing from me to Kingfisher, to Ren, and then to Everlayne, who had turned crimson and was making a show of looking through a stack of books resting on the table.
“I don't understand,” the librarian said. “Nimerelleisa formidable sword. Alchimeran. A much-lauded, storied weapon of the ancients. It's an honor to even look upon—”
“Let's get started, shall we?” Everlayne interrupted. “We're wasting time, and we have a lot of information to cover. Fisher, sit down and stop scowling. It doesn't suit you. Ren, you go down that end and make sure he stays in his seat. Saeris, you come and sit here.” She pointed to the chair at the very end of the long table—the furthest away from the seat she told Kingfisher to sit in.
Rusarius frowned, still confused, but then Everlayne shoved a book into his hands, and his face lit up. “Ahh, yes, wonderful! The Dawn Genesis of Yvelia. One of my favorites.”
I'd taken my seat, if only to end the staring contest Kingfisher was silently challenging me to, but I nearly leaped up out of it again in protest when I heard this title. “Ahistorybook?”
“One of the best,” Rusarius said, beaming. “Not just history, though. There are a number of chapters on Fae etiquette and politics that I think will be very useful in this particular situation.”
“I don't care about Yvelian history. I don't give a shit about etiquette, either.”
“Clearly,” Rusarius sputtered.
“Your politics and your courts areyourbusiness,” I pressed. “I want to figure out how to open up these quicksilver portalsagain, and then I want to do it and get the hell out of here. You all keep insisting that my brother and my friends are dead?” Even speaking the words out loud was tough. My throat ached as I forced myself to continue. “If theyaredead, then I want to see their bodies with my own two eyes. I want to bury what's left of them. They don't deserve to be left out in the burning heat to be picked clean by the rats and the vultures.”
The library was silent. Ren hadn't sat down yet. He quickly began donning the armor he'd carried in with him under his arm like he might have need of it any moment.
“Saeris, it's been well over a week. I'm sure it's already too late for that,” Everlayne said gently. “As hard as it may be, it's better for you if you just accept that—”
“Do you have a brother, Everlayne?” I spat.
“I—” She blinked rapidly, flustered. Her eyes darted to Kingfisher for some reason, who kept his eyes fixed on a point on the other side of the library, his gaze steady and even. “Yes, I do,” she said.
“And do you love him?”
“Of course.”
“And wouldn't you want to know for certain, one way or another, if he was dead or alive?”
She sat very still, her back straight, but it was as though a part of her was wilting inside. She glanced down at her hands clasped in her lap, saying in a small voice, “I'm sorry, Saeris, but it's more complicated than that.”
“Is it?” Kingfisher asked abruptly. He was no longer staring into space. His eyes bored into Everlayne so intensely that I found myself thanking the gods that he wasn't looking at me like that. “Humans are usually weak, fickle creatures, but I'll admit, I admire this one's loyalty. She values her family over everything else. There's something to be said for that.”
“Fisher,”Ren said.
I started when Fisher looked away from Everlayne and turned his attention to me. “They won't tell you this because they want you to behave. But thereisa chance your people are still alive, human. A decent chance.”
A spark of white-hot hope flared to life in my chest. “How? What do you know?”
“Fisher!” Everlayne cried.
“Graceless gods.”Ren turned and walked away from the table, running his hands through the wet strands of his hair in frustration. Only Rusarius remained calm.
“Madra used Solace to seal the pathways a long time ago, but with the sword returned to us and an Alchemist in our midst, she knows she'll have a war on her doorstep any day now—”
“Shedoesn'tknow we have an Alchemist,” Everlayne argued.
“The pathway couldn't have opened without one,” Kingfisher fired back. Undeterred, he asked me, “How many soldiers does Madra train and keep these days?”
“I don't know. One, maybe two thousand.”
“Two thousand?” Kingfisher snorted. “Without a fresh army at her fingertips, she knows she'll be swept away by a sea of Fae warriors thirty thousand deep once Belikon wedges the door into her world open. She lied to him. Tricked him. Cut off his trade lines to the other realms. Not to mention the fact that there are still rumors floating around that the Daianthus heir is in Zilvaren somewhere. The Kingwillwant a war and a bloody one at that. He’ll use it as an excuse to make sure there are none in the Silver City who might challenge him for the throne. Madra won't have torched ten percent of her people to exact revenge against one silly girl. She'll have conscripted them.”
