Page 47 of Quicksilver

Fisher had saved me from embarrassment, but that meant little. Not when I was faced with the promise of an afternoon working with the quicksilver. He really was crazy if he thought I would willingly subject myself tothatagain.

The temperature in the library was insufferable. Even colder than usual, condensation ran down the insides of the windows, and billowing clouds of fog formed in the air any time anyone spoke.

“It'll snow tonight,” Rusarius announced, frowning up at the moody blanket of clouds that filled the view out of the domed glass ceiling.

Snow.

The prospect of watching it fall from the sky with my own two eyes was thrilling, but there were more important matters at hand. I'd made my decision, and I was sticking to it.

“I want to learn more about the quicksilver today,” I said. “I know you were planning on covering more about Sanasroth andthe courts, but the King only gave us a week before Kingfisher has to leave. It's been three days already, and I haven't learned much about the pathways.”

“Knowledge of the courts will be vital when you start to travel outside of Yvelia. I do think this is worth going over,” Layne said, placing a hand on top of the daunting stack of books she'd set out for the day's session.

“I don't know. Maybe Saeris is right.” Rusarius's white hair was more cloud-like than ever, puffing out in every direction. “If we can't demonstrate that Saeris is capable of activating the quicksilver, there’ll be trouble for Kingfisher, I think. He's the one who brought her here. The King gavehima week to teach our new friend here how to navigate this whole thing. If she fails...”

“He'll punish Fisher,” Layne said.

“And Saeris, too, perhaps?” Rusarius suggested in a questioning tone.

Layne reluctantly pushed her curated stack of books aside. “All right. The quicksilver it is. Maybe if we cover some rudimentary ground, Fisher will be able to introduce you to some other, lesser alchemical compounds in the forge this afternoon.”

Oh, Fisher wasn't messing around with lesser alchemical compounds. He'd thrown me in at the deep end and slapped raw quicksilver in my hand without so much as a by-your-leave. Again, I made the decision not to spill that little tidbit of information. “I was wondering whether there were any references relating to how the Alchemists used the pathways to travel from one place to another specifically. As in, how they made sure they would wind up where they wanted to go,” I clarified. “Was there a panel, or some incantation, or...” I shrugged, channeling as much nonchalance as I could muster. “Did they have to say a place's name out loud or something?”

Rusarius wiped his nose on the back of his robe's sleeve, then blew on some hot tea he'd fixed for himself somewhere at the back of the library. “Oh no, I doubt we have any books or parchments that coverthat,” he said.

“Oh.” Disappointment gnawed on my insides.

“No, that part was easy. It was common knowledge how they made their way from one point to another.” Rusarius sipped his tea and yelped, fanning his mouth. “Gods, patience has never been my strong suit. You think I would have learned to wait by now—”

“How did they do it, then? If it was common knowledge?”

“Ahh, yes. Well, they just fixed their intentions on the place. Focused very hard, apparently. If they wanted to explore somewhere new, they'd think of thekindof place they wanted to go to. If they wanted to discover a place rich in iron ore, for example, they'd think about iron ore and let the quicksilver pull them to a place that had plenty of iron ore. It was a very simple system. Flawed, of course. On a number of occasions, an Alchemist thought of the kind of place they wanted to go and stepped into a pool, never to be seen again. A group went searching for hydrogen once. That busybody Archivist Clements postulated that the quicksilver delivered them right into the center of a star somewhere. Load of utter nonsense if you ask me...”

I stopped listening. I wasn't trying to go somewhere new. I wanted to go home. And all I had to do was think about Zilvaren before stepping into the pool? That would be too easy, surely? But Rusarius did seem certain.

“And where's the pool here in the Winter Palace? Belikon has one, right?” I asked, interrupting the old male, who was still giving examples of different groups of Alchemists who had gone missing while exploring unknown destinations.

“Oh, of course! Our pool is the largest ever documented!” the librarian declared, beaming, as if he were personally responsible for its existence. “Belikon had it crafted so that it could transport whole armies if needed. It's situated beneath us, down very deep, in the bowels of the palace. Nearly every tunnel you come across will lead you there. Though I once spent five days trying to work out...”

I did a commendable job of feigning interest as Rusarius chattered on, even if I did say so myself. The plans that were rapidly forming in my head demanded all of my attention, but I nodded and laughed at the librarian's tale, engaging just enough to convince Layne that I was listening to him, too.

The next three hours dragged by, and I did my best not to fidget.

I took notes about the Sanasrothian pool, located at the center of their rival court's council halls. I recorded the locations of two other pools in two other courts, as well. The Gilarien, the Fae in the mountains to the east, kept their pool in a hall perched upon the highest peak of their domain. It was reported that the pool belonging to the Lìssians, the seafaring Fae who lived upon a southern island, was located deep in a sea cave, and was almost as large as the Yvelian pool, though that had never been confirmed, the Lìssians regarding it as their most sacred place of worship.

I took all of this in, my mind buzzing the whole time.

All I had to do was fix my mind on the Silver City. I had to reach out to the quicksilver, convince it to wake, and then I'd be home. It would besosimple.

But there was something I had to do first.

12

FOX

Kingfisher’scopious amounts of leather was gone, and I could understand why. The hearth was blazing, a white-hot fire licking up the brickwork when I entered the forge. For the first time in nearly a week, a blissful warmth sank into my bones, and it was a beautiful, beautiful thing.

Layne's dark-haired brother smirked like a demon when he realized that I had entered the blistering hot workshop, though he didn't turn away from his task. Sweat ran down the side of his face as he thrust a glowing set of tongs into the inferno; he stooped, squinting as he concentrated for a moment, and then he drew the long tongs back out again, this time with a small iron pot clasped in the tongs’ grips.