Page 4 of Of Sword & Silver

A plan starts to form in my mind, a plan for breaking out the Sword… goddess, do I really have to call him that? Now that I’m thinking about it, I might actually remember hearing about this man. What kind of an asshole goes by just “the Sword”? My nose wrinkles in disgust.

“Do you know his real name?” I ask. “I’m not calling him that.”

Lara looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. Fair enough. I don’t know that I’ve ever truly been in full possession of my wits.

“No one knows his real name. They just know he murders any and all followers of Sola.”

I grit my teeth. “I really wish you would stop saying that.”

We both glance at the nook in Lara’s wall where the Heskan pantheon sits, a tiny brazier glowing before them.

Nothing happens, and I exhale in quiet relief.

The fucking last thing I need right now is for Sola to manifest in Lara’s stone cottage. That would be rotten luck. And my life is already chock-full of shit luck.

I pace a few steps, tapping my chin with one hand, the other running along the edge of the sheathed dagger at my side. “Cottleside.”

“You’re going to want this,” Lara says. To my surprise, she tugs a green flowing cloak from a massive wood trunk where I thought she only kept knick-knacks and spell supplies. Damn, there might have been something in there worth pawning if I’d looked twice.

“What’s that?”

“A cloak,” she says, shaking it out and holding it out to me.

I roll my eyes. “No kidding. It’s not my style.”

“It will help keep the curse from progressing too quickly.”

“Oh, really?” I side-eye her. “You just happened to have this on hand?”

“I had a feeling I would need it.”

“But you couldn’t have told me not to drink from that damned cup ahead of time?”

“Would you have listened?” she asks drily.

I bite my lower lip. No. I wouldn’t have. I drank it, and it didn’t seem like I could help it. “It was a compulsion,” I tell her, and it sounds just as obnoxious as I imagined. “Will this really help?”

“Maybe. Hopefully.” She shrugs a shoulder, then smooths her hands over the deep purple bodice of her dress. “At the very least, it will help keep you warm.”

I gnaw my lower lip. I’ll wear the damned cloak if it even gives me the slightest edge over the stupid curse.

Impulsively, I tuck Lara into my arms and she stiffens slightly at the hug before patting me awkwardly on the back.

“Thank you,” I murmur. “You’re my best friend.”

She sighs as she pulls away, and her expression is pitying. “I’m your only friend.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not the best,” I say, fastening the cloak around my neck. “I’ll see you when I see you,” I tell her glibly, grabbing my beat-up leather satchel from where I hung it by her front door.

“I’ll be here if you need me. Be careful, Kyrie,” she says, her forehead creasing with worry.

“I’m dead either way,” I tell her cheerfully, the door closing behind me. Chill night air blasts me in the face, and I spare a thought for Lara as I mount my grey horse. Well, horse is a generous term. An umbrella term. The truth is he’s much closer to a mule.

Mushroom whickers at me and I pat his neck.

“I have more than one friend,” I tell him as he picks up the pace, trotting merrily down the muddy dirt path and towards Cottleside in Leinia. “In fact, we’re heading to him now, Mushroom, because he owes me a favor… and because I’m fairly certain he has exactly what we need to break into Cottleside. A few Shukan charges would do it, don’t you think?”

The magic explosives will definitely make a statement, and a brittle smile curls my lips.

---