Page 112 of Quicksilver

His expression was just as flat when he turned his attention to me.

“You’re done here for the day. I’ll send someone else to refine the silver. There are plenty of other smiths who can do that kind of work in camp. Unfortunately, there’s something else I need from you, Osha.”

24

LUPO PROELIA

The shards were still buriedin the stone. Needle-sharp, they glinted in the light thrown off by the fire. I peered closer at them, frowning. “There are five hundred and sixty-three of them,” Renfis said. “One of our metal workers tried to pull them out with forceps, but they're so fine, he couldn't grip them properly. Two of them snapped. The ends are still buried inside the stone, which...well, it's not good.” There was a bruise above Ren’s cheekbone; it was turning a vivid, sickly shade of purple as he spoke.

“What the hell happened at training today?” I asked under my breath.

Ren’s eyes remained locked on me, refusing to look at Fisher, who stood on the other side of the war room. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

“Because both of you are bleeding and walking like you got your asses handed to you!”

“Fisher’s in a bad mood is what happened at training,” Lorreth, the dark-haired warrior with the war braids, said. He sat on a stool by the fire, his light blue eyes slowly tracking the movements of everyone inside the war room. He watchedKingfisher, who was locked in a very heated argument with Danya, but evidently it was Ren and me he was really focusing on.

“Fisher’s fine,” Ren said evenly. “We both are. We’re going to see Te Léna later. In the meantime, can we concentrate on the task at hand for a moment? Do either of you have any suggestions as to how we might get these shards out of this stone?”

There was something he wasn’t saying, but he clearly didn’t want to talk about. I let him have his secret. “Why not just shear off all of the pieces and sand the ends flush with the stone?” I suggested. “Danya could just have a new sword made for her.”

Ren laughed breathily. “It's not that simple. Danya's sword was special. It was like Nimerelle once, imbued with old potent magic. It's...” He winced at the bristling spines of metal protruding from the stone wall. “Itwasa precious Fae heirloom. Danya's birthright. A godsword forged by the ancient Alchimeran masters. Such swords are religious icons to the Fae. It represented Danya's rank and marked her as an original member of the Lupo Proelia. Like most—”

“Sorry, Lupo what?”

“Lupo Proelia. Kingfisher's wolves,” he said, sighing. “There are eight of us, usually. Though our numbershavebeen reduced of late. We fight as a team, working together, just as wolves do. I'm sure you've noticed the wolf on some of our armor.”

I'd noticed, all right. The sigil was on the plate Fisher wore at his throat. It was stamped into his chest protector, too. And I'd noticed his tattoo more than once. Last night, for example, when the head of theLupo Proeliahad plowed me like a godscursed field.

“As you already know, Nimerelle still carries a kernel of magic in her blade. All of the other Alchimeran swords became dormant centuries ago, but Danya's blade was still veryimportant to her. To our people as a whole. We can't just sand the shards back and discard the rest. It'd be sacrilege.”

“Amazing. So you're saying that I was in camp for less than five minutes and I destroyed an ancient weapon that has profound cultural importance for all of Fae kind,” I said, recapping.

“See! She doesn't evencare!”Danya cried, pointing at me. “She understands the weight of what she's done, and she doesn't give a shit!”

“She does care.” Fisher heaved out a sigh as he crossed the map room, approaching what was left of the sword. “She just has a terrible sense of irony.”

I didn't appreciate the hateful look Danya sent me, nor did I feel too warm and fuzzy about the way she kept stabbing her finger at me. “I'm sorry, are you just permanently on the brink of a nervous breakdown, or have I shown up at an inconvenient time for you?” I sniped.

Her jaw dropped. “Unbelievable. Are you seriously going to let her speak to a High-Born Fae like that?” she said, eyes on Fisher.

“What do you wantmeto do about it?” he replied. “She has a mind and a mouth of her own. I am the keeper of neither.” He picked at one of the fine filaments poking out of the stone, frowning at it intently.

“Would you let one of the men talk to a superior with the same level of disrespect?”

“No, I wouldn't,” he admitted.

“Then why won't y—”

“But she isn't a member of this army, and you aren't her superior,” Fisher said. “Now. Do you want to give her a moment to see if she can fix the swordyoutried to kill me with? Or do you just want to pace about and yell some more?”

Danya didn’t know what to say to that. She gaped at Fisher, then at Ren, then Lorreth, bypassing me altogether.

“Lorreth,” she began. The male sitting by the fire threw up his hands, shaking his head.

“Oh no. No way. I'm still sporting a bruise from where you clocked me last night. You were way over the line, the way you went for Fisher. It's your own fault that your sword's in pieces. In awall,”he added. “I think it's impressive, what the human did. And no more than you deserved besides.”

“Asshole,” she spat. “I should have hit you harder.”