Page 33 of Quicksilver
Conscripted?
Kingfisher thought Madra would have put a sword in Hayden's hand rather than kill him? Could that be true? There hadn’t been any kind of war in Zilvaren for centuries. The deserttook a hefty tithe when an armed force attempted to cross it. By the time an army reached Zilvaren, it was half as big as it had been when it had set out, and extremely dehydrated. They could never win against her without access to a water source, so eventually, they stopped coming. Madra no longer kept an army the way she had done centuries ago. She didn’t need one. But if Kingfisher was right and she was worried about an army rising up out of the quicksilver, maybe she would conscript people from the wards. While I didn’t relish the prospect of war between this realm and my own, the possibility did present me with some time. I was grasping at straws, but it was something.
“So only one of these Alchemists can open these pathways between Yvelia and Zilvaren, right?” I asked.
Everlayne paled. “It's a dangerous process, Saeris. And we don't even know if it was you who activated the quicksilver the last time.”
“She was the one holding Solace,” Kingfisher said flatly. “There was no one else in that hall. Harron didn’t wake the quicksilver, andIsure as hell didn't do it. If Iwerecapable of activating it, I would have razed that infernal city to the ground a long, long time ago.”
He said it without any emotion at all. It was just a straight fact. He'd snuff out a million lives in the blink of an eye, just like that. I could see it now. He wouldn't feel a thing at all.
“You shouldn't have given her the pendant when you came through,” Everlayne whispered.
Kingfisher held up his left hand, which he'd clenched tight into a fist. “I still had the ring.” Sure enough, a plain silver ring flashed on his middle finger, catching at the light.
Everlayne shook her head, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “It wasn't enough. You took more in, didn't you?”
Kingfisher looked away, up at the sky, and the bank of thick clouds that were amassing overhead. “What does it even matter?I got the sword. I even got a new pet for you. One capable of performing fancy magic tricks that'll make all of our lives better. So let's just get on with this, shall we?”
I couldn't stop staring at the silver plate he wore at his neck. It was beautifully engraved with elaborate lines, but it was the snarling wolf head at its center that captured my attention. The insignia was fierce and eye-catching. Prudent that he'd worn it to the library this morning, seeing as how Everlayne looked like she wanted to slit his throat.
“We're going to fix this,” she murmured under her breath.
The silver in Kingfisher's eye seemed to flare at her promise. “But there's nothing to fix,” he said. “Only a human to teach and a queen to put in the ground. Once that's out of the way, we can all get on with our lives. The girl can go back to her city and what's left of her people, and Belikon can chew his way through yet another realm for all I care. My work will be done.”
“Don't say that. Please.”
“You forget we're already fighting a war.” Ren leaned against the back of one of the wooden chairs, his knuckles turning white. “The real war with Sanasroth is killing members of our court,yourcourt, every single day.”
“The last time I fought in that war, a city burned to the ground. I think I've shed enough blood for Yvelia, brother.”
“Then shed it for your friends! Put all of this Madra business aside. Let Belikon deal with her and helpme!”
It was as if there were a cord at the center of Kingfisher's soul, and I could see it tugging him backward, further away from these people who so clearly cared about him. He was beyond their reach, it seemed. Nothing would draw him back to them. He blinked, leaving Ren's plea unanswered. “I have two questions for you, human.”
I was the only human in the room. Clearly, he was talking to me. “Okay,” I said.
“Have you ever channeled a metal's energy before?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, insides twisting. “What do you mean?”
“If you'd done it, you wouldn't need to ask. You'd already know,” he said flatly.
I thought about it. All of the times I'd made Elroy's tools hum. That spinning blade on my dead mother’s dining table. The guardian's gauntlet, when I'd slammed it down on top of the wall—how its vibrations had made the grains of quartz in the sand dance. How I’d turned Harron’s dagger into a river of molten silver and steel.
“All right, then.” I met Kingfisher’s steely gaze. I didn’t blink. “Yes. I have.”
“Good. And my second question. Do you have any experience working in a forge?”
Laughter burst up my throat and out of my mouth. “In a forge? Yeah. You could say that I know my way around a forge.”
9
RIGHTEOUS PURPOSE
“They won't letyou in. There's no way. The bastards have been guarding that door since the dawn of time.” Renfis hurried along after Kingfisher, but his limp was proving a hindrance.
“They don't have a choice,” Kingfisher replied. He wasn't slowing his pace for anyone. Not for his injured friend. Not for the king's daughter. And certainly not for me, the only human in the group, whose legs were considerably shorter than everyone else's. I was on the verge of breaking into a jog just to keep the three of them in sight.
