Page 78 of Quicksilver

But there was no quicksilver. None that I could find in any of the jars or crucibles. How the hell did Fisher expect me to unravel this problem for him if he wasn't going to trust me with any of the quicksilver? Did he think I was going to try and escape with it, for fuck's sake? I'd learned my lesson after the last time. I didn't have a relic of my own yet...

Here.

Here.

I'mhere...

Just one whisper. So small.

When I'd heard the quicksilver back at the palace, the sound had been a chorus of whispers. But this was subtle. Quiet. I had to close my eyes and focus all of my attention just to hear it. It was inside the forge, though. And close. I walked around the bench I'd been working at until I felt the gentlest of tugs, so weak it was barely even there, and then I moved toward it.

A silver box sat on a shelf above a small basin, tucked into the corner by the wall. A leafy potted plant hid it from view. I took it back to the bench and prized the lid open, laughing when I saw just how little quicksilver was inside it. It was solid, naturally, but in its liquid state, it would only be a couple of tablespoons’ worth at best. Thiswas what he'd left me to work with? I huffed, plucking the metal out of the box with a pair of tongs, and then placed it at the bottom of the smallest crucible I could find.

It was getting easier, changing the quicksilver from its solid to liquid state. A hand reaching out into the dark. A finger flicking a switch. There was so little of it this time that I hardly had to will it at all. One moment, it was a lump of scuffed metal, and the next, it was a puddle of shining silver rolling around the bottom of the cast iron bowl. I dropped the medallion into the crucible, grimacing when I noted that there was barely enough quicksilver to submerge it.

And nothing happened.

I waited.

Still nothing.

Here. Here. I'm here,the quicksilver whispered in its singular voice.Alone. Alone. Come to me. Find me. Be with me.

The medallion changed nothing.

I tried a second again, adding what looked like sand and some salt water to the molten silver this time. Again, nothing happened. My third attempt, I tried to combine a dull red powder from one of the jars into the silver, but it burst into flames before it even reached the rippling surface, producing a cloud of noxious red smoke that made my face prickle and go numb. Onyx wouldn't come back into the forge after that, so I sat with him out on the bench in the cold afternoon light, stroking his fur, shivering as flakes of snow dusted my pants.

My fourth and final attempt of the day—adding a pinch of charcoal and a sprig of an herb labeled ‘Widow's Bane'—rendered no results again, by which time I'd officially had enough. I whistled for Onyx to come—he begrudgingly did—and stomped out of the forge, leaving the mess I'd made with my failed attempts behind.

Back in the hallways of Cahlish, Onyx chittering animatedly, darting between my ankles, tongue lolling as he jumped up my legs. Apparently, he was very happy to be away from the forge. I hadn't paid a whole lot of attention this morning when Fisherescorted me to the forge, but I was fairly adept at finding my way in new places. It might take a while, but I'd find my way back to the room I'd woken up in eventually.

It didn't come to that, though. I'd only taken a couple of steps from the door when Ren appeared around the corner up ahead, dressed in a dark red shirt and faded brown leather pants. He was covered in mud, and there was a long gash across his cheek, which was leaking blood. His hair seemed to be wet with sweat, and the dark shadows under his eyes made him look exhausted. He scrounged up a smile when he saw me, though, wiping his filthy hands on the towel he was carrying as he approached.

“Thought I'd come and check in on you,” he said, grinning. “I heard you've been assigned quite the task.”

“An impossible task.” I scowled darkly. “I only made four attempts, but I’m exhausted. What happened toyou?”

“Oh, y'know, just a couple of skirmishes up on the pass. When the clouds are so heavy with snow and the days are so dark like this, it's a safe bet that there'll be an attack. We were outnumbered, but we didn't lose anyone. Took down thirty or so of the enemy.”

“Congratulations?” It felt weird to congratulate anyone on killing so many people, even if theywereenemies of the Yvelian Fae.

Ren noticed the uncertain rise in my voice and laughed quietly under his breath. “Thank you. Believe me, killing thirty of them has already saved a couple of hundred innocent lives. If they'd gotten through the pass, they would have wrought havoc on our side of the border. It wouldn't have been pretty.”

“I'll have to trust your word on that,” I told him.

Ren rubbed the towel against his dirty fingers, his eyes resting steadily on me. “Would you? Trust my word? If I told you something?”

Onyx jumped up Ren's legs, turning in circles. The general dipped to scratch his head distractedly—his focus was all for me.

“I don't know,” I said. “I s'pose that would depend.”

He sighed. “That's fair. Well, I'm about to tell you that I gave Fisher hell this afternoon for that oath he made you swear. And I told him the only way he could make it up to me would be to start getting to know you a little better.”

I fought the instinct to take a step back. “Why would you dothat?”

“Fisher’s very single-minded sometimes. There's no grey. Only black and white. I fear that part of him has only gotten worse while he's been away. He has to keep things very straight in his mind, otherwise lines get blurred. Right now, you're a tool he feels he has to use to make life better for us all. My concern is that a tool pushed to its limit is a tool that will probably break. And to be blunt, Saeris, you're a tool none of us can afford to let Fisher break. He needs to see you as a person. He needs to know that you're more than our way out of a tight corner. And the only way to accomplishthatis if he learns more about you.”

Why didn't I like the sound of this? “Okaaaay.”