Page 9 of Of Sword & Silver

I grunt. I am not going to loot this corpse. Instead, I pull the chain tight, yanking it from the bolt in the wall with several heavy tugs.

“Why didn’t you just do that when you got here?”

“I deserved my time here.” I coil the chain around my forearm. “I was waiting for the right moment.”

“Waiting for the stars to align,” she drawls, clearly amused.

She wouldn’t be smiling if she knew how right she was.

Another set of explosions go off, this time closer than before, and she straightens, grim determination settling over her pretty face. “We’re out of time.”

She starts out the door, her cloak flying around her knees, then casts a dark look back at me. “Are you coming or not?”

I jerk my head in affirmation, then take one long look around the cell that’s been my home for the past ten years.

I won’t miss it.

3

KYRIE

Being indignant and unable to fully show it might be the most obnoxious of all predicaments. The sound of explosions continues, though they are few and far between now, which means time is running out. I purse my lips, creeping as quickly as I can through the dark corridors of Cottleside Prison.

You’d think that the Sword would be happy to be rescued, but noooo, of course he’s not. He’s acting like getting out of prison is a complete imposition.

I attempt to move quietly, considering the massive distraction I caused by putting stolen explosives in the prison’s food carts is clearly waning. Add to it that the Sword makes enough noise to rival Mushroom the mule’s footsteps and it’s a lost cause.

I glare at him over my shoulder, but he acts like he doesn’t notice it.

“Could you be any louder?” I finally whisper at him.

“Yes,” he rumbles.

“You should know I just rolled my eyes so hard I’m surprised I can’t hear them rattling around, too. I’m surprised my eye roll hasn’t brought down the entire host of Cottleside guards onto our heads. That’s how hard I rolled them.”

He grunts. No snort of amusement, no witty retort. Nothing. Just grunts.

I grit my teeth and keep forging ahead. It just had to be this male that could save me. This hulking dude whose otherworldly good looks are completely wasted on his nonexistent personality. I’ve had second-hand leather trousers with more personality.

Now I’m forced to travel goddess-only-knows how long with him, forced to trust him to find this cure for me when he can’t even manage a polite chuckle at a joke… it’s going to be torture.

At least he’s nice to look at. Not that it matters.

“There,” I say in a low voice, pointing to a seam in the floor. “That’s the best route out.”

I don’t bother telling him that it’s?—

“The only route?” he asks in a dry voice.

Footsteps sound and we both freeze. He draws his sword, and something about him… shifts. Gone is the reluctant prisoner escaping, and in his place is a warrior.

I swallow hard.

A guard appears, running up the hallway, and at first, I think he’s missed us completely. I’m standing stock still, letting the shadows fold around me. He runs by us, glancing over us like we’re not even there.

I don’t dare breathe.

The guard looks back.

---