Page 28 of Of Sword & Silver

“I don’t. But the cat’s smart enough not to kill the animal hauling our supplies.”

She barks out a laugh. “Right. Sure. Is it your Fae senses telling you that?”

“You can feel it as well as I can.” I’m too old to play these games, too old for her, too old for the entire world. “I saw it in your eyes. You said yourself not to hurt the creature.” My eyes narrow as I regard her. “Dyrda sent the beast.”

“Dyrda? The goddess of nature? Since when do gods care enough to do anything but harm us humans?” She laughs again, but it’s humorless, and it soon lapses into silence.

Another moment ticks by, and I watch her carefully.

She is faithless.

That is very much to my advantage.

I turn my attention back to the more pressing problem, scrutinizing the cave entrance. It’s been a very long time since I was here last, and my memory is fuzzy on how to get through the wards. My imprisonment likely further dulled my memories, my magic even, worsened by the chaos breaking Heska, and the proliferation of the faithless, just like Kyrie.

I am not what I once was.

I resist the urge to look over my shoulder at the red-haired thief, but the thought hits me just the same as if I had.

She might make me whole again.

9

KYRIE

The direcat should be terrifying. It was last night, when I didn’t know what it was. But now, in the early afternoon light, it seems every bit a large—okay, enormous—house cat.

It’s dozing in a patch of sun-soaked snow, paws flexing and curling as it dreams.

Mushroom is less enthusiastic about our new friend, and I do my best to comfort him with what little oats we have left. I’m tired. More tired than I should be, even though that was a challenging, and overly long, hike. A muscle in my chest twitches, and I wince.

The curse, a little voice in my head tells me.

I glower.

I’m about sick of that little voice’s input.

The Sword sits on a flat black rock, staring at the mouth of the cave like it’s a puzzle to be solved.

I’ve asked him ten times now what the hells it is we’re doing up here, but he just gives me a pitying look that annoys me more than anything.

I busy myself with making a small fire, heating up snow in a pot for Mushroom to drink, and then refilling our own water pouches.

Doesn’t mean I’m not itching to keep annoying the Sword. Better to do it hydrated, though. I take a long drink, wiping my mouth across my sleeve.

“Is sitting on your ass part of your solution to saving me? Or are you just going to run out the clock, or even better, hope the direcat eats me before the curse takes me out? Maybe you’re thinking hypothermia?”

“Could you be quiet and let me think?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“Thinking doesn’t seem to be your strong suit,” I tell him sadly.

He glares at me. I grin.

“You know, if you told me what your plan was, maybe I could help?”

“Oh, do you know how to get past a warded entrance? Are you suddenly a master of spell craft? You don’t even know why I brought you here.”

I raise my hands in disgust, rolling my eyes. “Correct. Because you haven’t told me, and I’m not a mind-reader, you asshole. But if you did tell me, I might come up with a plan because unlike someone here, I’m not the muscles of the operation. I have to rely on other things.”

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