Page 64 of Quicksilver

Kingfisher cast a blank look at him. “You're sure he's not your brother.”

“I think I know what my own brother looks like, don't you?”

The look Fisher sent my way indicated that he wasn't so sure how to react to that question. “Then, at the risk of repeating myself for the eleven hundredth time, we should leave him here. If he's not your brother, then—”

“We arenotleaving him here. Belikon will kill him the moment he realizes you've kidnapped me.”

“It's not kidnapping if you come willingly,” Kingfisher said in a calculating tone.

“I'm not doing any of this willingly! I want to go home!”

He shrugged as he swung himself into the saddle. “And yet you're coming to help me end a war, aren't you. What more noble cause could there be? Congratulations on achieving fucking sainthood.”

15

SARRUSH

We didn't passthrough the town at the foot of the Winter Palace. I'd hoped we would—more chance of us being spotted and stopped by Belikon's men before we could get very far—but Kingfisher was smart. He could be an angry, arrogant, half-mad, outrageously handsome piece of shitandan intelligent tactician at the same time. Turned out the two weren't mutually exclusive. I cursed the day I thought I'd get away with robbing a guardian as Fisher guided us around the outskirts of the town, down rocky, steep, uneven pathways that were buried in a thick layer of snow. It was a miracle that he knew where he was going. Even more astonishing that the horses didn't trip and break their damn legs on the treacherous route Fisher picked out for us. One misstep and we'd find ourselves in big fucking trouble, but the horses plodded on, surefooted, unfazed by our hazardous evening adventure.

I watched Carrion's head lolling against the flank of Fisher's horse, fuming at the unconscious bastard the whole while. There was a cold sense of justice in watching his head being thrashed by the low boughs of the trees as we entered the dark forest. Thefucker deserved every injury he got for what he'd done. He'd lied to Fisher. Why the hell would he say he was Hayden?

Had Fisher said,'What's your name, stinking human wretch?'Or had he said,“I'm here to transport Hayden Fane to a Fae realm, where he'll have access to as much food and water as he can gorge himself on and a comfortable bed to sleep in?” Because I could totally see Carrion lying about his identity if the latter were the case.

The light and sound spilling from the Winter Palace soon faded. Kingfisher didn't seem to mind our pitch-black surroundings, though, and neither did the horses. They plodded on, blowing down their noses, as if it weren't freezing cold and terrifying out here. Haunting wails echoed across the forest, the sounds so human that my skin broke out into permanent goosebumps. In the bag I held in front of me, tucked against my stomach, half-wrapped in my cloak, Onyx whined, making himself as small as possible while also making so much noise that the annoyance radiating from Kingfisher could be felt from ten feet. He didn't mention the hysterical fox. He simmered, not saying a word, which was infinitely worse.

The wailing that echoed throughout the forest drew closer and moved away at random intervals, making my breath come quick and shallow. Eventually, a wail came so close that it sounded as if a starving creature was lurking right beneath Aida's feet. I screamed, jumping in the saddle, pulling my legs up, heart hammering in my chest.

Kingfisher halted his horse and looked back at me wearily. “What’s wrong with you now?”

“There's—there's—urgh, we're going todieout here, asshole! Can't you hear that screaming?”

He looked at me like I was the most tiresome thing he'd ever encountered. “They'reshades,human.”

“What do you mean, shades?”

“Y'know. Echoes. What remains of a creature after it dies in distress.”

My panic cranked up to an eleven.“Ghosts?”

Kingfisher's mouth drew down thoughtfully. “I'm not familiar with that term. These beings are non-corporeal. They have no physical substance. They can't hurt you. They don't even know you're here.”

Gods above, I couldn't swallow. “Then why are theyscreaming?”

“They're reliving their last moments. You'd scream, too, if you'd suffered the same death they had.”

“They died here? In this forest?”Don't do it. Don't ask him. Donotfucking ask.I had to know, though. “Howdid they die?”

Kingfisher cast sharp silver-flecked eyes around us into the dark. “Watch and you'll see for yourself.”

“It's pitch black out here! I can't see anything.I can't even see my own hand in front of my face!” At this, another piercing cry splintered the silence, so close that Onyx let out a yelp and tried to burrow a hole through the bottom of the burlap bag to safety.

“I keep forgetting how tragically inferior a human's eyesight is,” Kingfisher remarked.

“Oh, and I suppose you can see every little detail of this place, then?” I jabbed a finger at the forest, intending the question to be ironic since we were surrounded by a wall of black, but Kingfisher shrugged a shoulder, pouting.

“I mean, it's not crystal clear. I could make out much finer detail in the daylight. But yes. I can see perfectly well. Bring Aida up alongside me and I'll gift you with temporary sight.”

“No.”