Page 60 of Of Sword & Silver

“Wait.” Morrow holds up a hand, closing it into a fist.

Waiting is a good idea, as would be figuring out whatever the hells we’re going to ride into.

From the sound of it, we might not ride back out.

We do as he says, an odd clicking screech echoing off the tree trunks.

“It’s a fucking manticore,” the Sword growls. “I can smell the poison.”

“We cannot leave them to fend for themselves,” Morrow says, the very paragon of virtue.

I sigh. “We absolutely could.”

“Kyrie,” Lara reprimands.

“What? I am a thief, not a fucking warrior. I lie, I cheat, I steal. I am not going to go running into a situation that’s almost guaranteed to get me killed. How are we supposed to fulfill your prophecy if we all die?”

The ground vibrates again and my teeth grind together in my head, a scream getting louder before suddenly cutting off.

My blood runs cold.

“I cannot in good faith leave these people to their doom,” Morrow says gallantly.

I glare at him. “What happened to letting prayer guide us all?”

“Kyrie!” Lara snaps. “What happened to your anger? All that righteous indignation at the gods and yet you can’t find it in you to help? How are you any better than Sola?”

That stings. I wince.

“A manticore should not be here,” the Sword intones. “Morrow is right. We can’t let it ravage this land and my—our—people.”

I’m outnumbered, clearly. Traitors.

“Lara, do you plan to use your foresight to take down the manticore?” I ask her sweetly. “Or are you going to sit back and let us do the dirty work?”

“Don’t be a bitch, Kyrie. I have a few offensive spells. You don’t know everything about me.” She bares her teeth at me, and it doesn’t take a seer to tell she’s pissed. “You, however, are great in a pinch and quick with your daggers. What better time to see how we work as a team?”

“We need to move,” Morrow demands, another pitiful shriek cutting off too abruptly.

I sigh again, tired, that knot of darkness in my chest pressing heavily on me.

“Fine, fuck it. I’ll help. But don’t get used to it,” I snarl.

Lara beams at me like she’s forgotten my selfishness. The look quickly dies as the ground shakes again, causing the horses to stamp their hooves nervously.

Except Morrow’s horse, who looks like he could nap at any minute.

Lara takes off down the forest path in the direction of the chaos, Morrow pressing his horse into a fast canter after her.

“Kyrie,” the Sword says suddenly. “Be careful.”

He holds my gaze for a long moment, his dark eyes boring into me like they see straight through me. I think he might.

“I’m always careful.” I grin at him.

He doesn’t return it.

We both know it’s a lie.

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