Page 85 of Quicksilver
Why was he looking at me like that? His eyes were hard, but his expression was carefully blank. I couldn’t figure it out. Couldn’t figure him out. His fingers twitched, the tips so close to my cheek. I was still delirious from the poison. I had to be, because if really felt like he wanted to trail them over my cheek and was forcing himself not to. “This is your room,” I whispered.
Fisher yanked his hand back, fast as lightning. He stood there, eyes wide, lips parted, as if he couldn’t understand how he’d found himself touching my hair. I watched his expression harden, a pit forming in my stomach. Why was he like this? What exactlywashis problem? I’d asked him flat-out what his issue with humans was just now, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was more than that. That he had a problem withmespecifically.
“It is,” he said. “It was the closest place to set you down,”
“Why are all the paintings torn up like that?” I demanded.
The tension crackling between us snapped like a cord pulled too tight.
“Because I destroyed them,” he said flatly.
“Why?”
He exhaled, whirling away. Taking long, determined strides, he headed for the door. And just as he’d done at dinner before all hell had broken loose, he cast his voice so that it was right next tomy ear. The rough edge of it, so close, made me startle. “Because sometimes, my pendant can’t stave off the darkness that creeps in.”
Gritting my teeth, I shouted after him. “Really? That’s it? You’re leaving? If that’s the case, I can go back to my own room now!”
Fisher paused, hand resting against the doorframe. “Unless you need to relieve yourself, you won’t get out of that bed, Osha. Even then, you’ll go to the bathroom and get straight back into that bed. There are still trace amounts of poison in your veins. You need to rest until you’ve had time to properly heal.”
“I can heal in my own bed.” But even as I said this, the question sprang into my mind. Did I evenhavea bed here? A space to call my own? The room I’d woken up in was luxury beyond anything I could have ever hoped for back in the Silver City, but the prospect of sharing a bedroom with Carrion did not sound appealing, especially when I felt like shit.
“Stay in that bed, Little Osha.” The command was gentle, almost kind, but there was a resonant quality to it that left no room for argument.
My grip on the silky black sheets tightened. “Then where areyougoing to sleep?” If he thought for one second that I’d share a fucking bed with him, he was sorely mistaken.
He must have known what I was thinking because he smirked as he spoke. “I’m heading to Innír for a week. There are things that need my attention there.”
“Innír?”
“The war camp. On the other side of the mountains.” He nodded to the window. “They act as a barrier between this place and the carnage on the other side.”
“Oh.” I’d been right, then. The camp I’d imagined when I first heard of Cahlish did exist. Four thousand feet of jutting, jagged rock stood between it and this house, but itwasout there.
“For the record, I’d never use an injury as an excuse to sneak my way into a bed,” Fisher said. His voice was even closer now. I could almost feel the brush of his lips against the shell of my ear. “I’ve never had a problem securing myself an invite.”
He was so sure of himself. His arrogance went beyond the pale. “Well, don’t count on an invite fromme,” I snapped, drawing the sheets up even higher beneath my chin.
Fuck me. That smile. Slightly open-mouthed, flashing the smallest hint of pointed teeth. I had to be so, so careful around that smile. It would wreck me if I let it. “Mm. You’re right. I don’t think you will invite me. When the time comes, I think you’llbeg—”
I let out an infuriated scream. Grabbing the closest thing I could lay my hands on, I hurled a cushion at his head. Too heavy, it thudded to the floor, woefully short of its mark.
Kingfisher’s laughter rang out down the hall as he disappeared, his bedroom door swinging closed behind him. I tossed off the bed sheets, determined to hurl somethingmuchsharper at him, but when I tried to swing my legs out of the bed...nothing happened. My muscles didn’t move an inch. Didn’t even twitch.
Oh my gods, I was paralyzed. Something wasn’t right. The healers...they...I couldn’t move my...oh my gods. Oh no, oh no,oh no...
The second I stopped trying to get out of the bed and tried to flex my feet instead, my body obeyed. Relief rocked me so hard that I let out a sob, pressing the back of my hand to my mouth. Icouldmove my legs. I just couldn’t get up.
I—
Wait.
No.
He hadn’t.
Unless you need to relieve yourself, you won’t get out of that bed, Osha. And even then, you’ll go to the bathroom and get straight back into that bed.
Understanding pressed down heavily on the center of my chest. That was why Fisher’s voice had sounded so firm when he told me to stay in bed and rest—because it’d been a command issued through the oath that bound me to him.
