Page 88 of Quicksilver

It had been eight days since I'd fled Fisher's room, which meant twenty-four failed attempts at creating a relic. The trunk full of silver rings sat by the bench where Fisher had left it, its presence a daily reminder that, until I'd turned every single ring inside it into a shield that would allow Fisher's warriors to pass through the quicksilver unharmed, I was basically fucked. And then I'd see the other trunks full of rings tucked away in the corner, and I'd have to fight the urge to scream.

I didn't want to think about what was going to happen if I didn't make any headway soon. Every time I refined the scrap silver, I lost some of it. The amount I had to work with grew smaller and smaller every day, and with it, so did my chances of ever seeing Hayden and Elroy again.

As I worked, Onyx yowled, excited by something on the other side of the garden wall. He did that a lot. There were animals that roved Cahlish’s grounds and guards that now patrolled on the other side of the wall as well. I didn't see them very often, but I heard them from time to time. I ignored Onyx's sounds of outrage as I carefully placed the scrap silver into a vat of acid. Staring at the three small medallions, watching them slowly dissolve, I didn't see the intruder climbing over the wall until it was too late.

My head snapped up when Onyx let out a very dog-like bark. And there it was. A dark figure, striding toward me across the garden.

Feeder.

My heart backflipped, my hand reaching for my dagger, a cry of panic building at the back of my throat...

...but it wasn't a feeder.

It was Ren.

He gave me a warm smile as he entered the forge. “Afternoon, Saeris.”

“Really? You're gonna climb the wall and scare the shit out of me instead of coming in through the door?”

“It was quicker that way,” he said. “Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you.”

The general should have frightened me, but even after launching himself over a wall and surprising me, he didn't. There was a warmth to him that made me feel at ease, no matter how imposing he was. The top half of his long sandy brown hair was tied back into two war braids. They gathered into a ponytail at the base of his skull. The rest hung well past his shoulders, almost as long as mine. His eyes—the deepest brown—looked a little wary as he peered past me into the forge.

“Are you all right?” I asked. “Is that...blood?”His hands were stained black, as were his pants. The golden chest plate he wore,engraved with a sigil of a snarling wolf's head very similar to the one on Fisher's gorget, was splattered with black liquid as well. It could have been very dark mud, but...no. He was close enough that I could smell him now, and holy hells, the general reeked of the same foul odor that had filled the air when the feeders had attacked us. It was definitely blood. He looked down at himself, his brows rising as if he’d only just noticed that he was filthy.

“Ah. Shit. Yes, uh...we don't exactly have access to a bathhouse at the camp. There's a river, but it's frozen. I—I should go and clean up. Apologies, Saeris. I was so fixed on coming to say hello that...” He tried unsuccessfully to wipe his hands clean on his pants. “Yeah, I forgot aboutthis.I’ll go and clean up. First, I was charged with the pleasure of letting you know that Fisher's requesting your presence for dinner again tonight.”

“Oh, he's back, is he?” I folded my arms across my chest. “Andrequestingmy presence? Are you sure you don't mean demanding it?”

Renfis winced, and I knew that I'd hit the nail on the head. Ren was a million times nicer than Kingfisher and had reworded the message he'd been given to pass along to me. “He doesn't mean to be so brusque,” he said. “He's been fighting this war for so long now that he's forgotten what it's like to interact with polite society.”

I turned back into the forge and dropped my heat-proof gloves onto the bench. “You reallyshouldstop making excuses for him. It doesn't help him, me, or anyone else. He's just a bastard.”

Ren smiled weakly. “He's also my best friend. I have to believe that he's still in there somewhere. The person I once knew. Not this cold, shutdown version of himself.” His sadness weighed him down, I could see it. “But anyway. I won’t keep you. You need to get ready for dinner and—”

“Are you going to be there this time?”

Ren looked down at his dirt-rimmed fingernails, a small smile playing over his mouth. “No. I do normally eat with Fisher, but I wasn't invited this evening.”

I narrowed my eyes to slits. “And why was that, do you think?”

“I’d hate to hazard a guess.”

Coward. We both knew Fisher only invited me because he wanted to torture me for his own sport without anyone there to keep him in check. I wasn't having it this time. “You're coming to dinner,” I informed Ren.

“No, I don't think so,” he answered slowly.

“Yes.I'minviting you.”

“I'm honored, and thank you, but—”

“Look, do you want Fisher to have to come find me because I've refused to show up for dinner? Do you want him to force me to go? Do you think he'd do that?”

“No, of course not! He wouldn't.”

I waited.

“Fine, he probably would,” he conceded.