Page 24 of Of Sword & Silver

The Sword raises one dark eyebrow, severe compared to the silver-white of his hair. He doesn’t comment on that, doesn’t even manage one of his grunts in reply.

Probably because he knows it’s true. I bet he thinks I deserve it, too.

“Thank you for breaking down the tent,” I make myself say. The words feel thick in my throat, with an emotion I don’t want to put a name to.

“We should go. You’re right, I need clothes if I’m going to blend in.”

He hands me the carefully, expertly folded and wrapped tent canvas, and I am halfway through packing it on Mushroom’s back when the meaning of his words sinks in.

He needs clothes if he’s going to blend in.

With humans.

He doesn’t need them because he’s freezing. He needs them because he’s not human.

I swallow hard, my chest tight with real fear for the first time since I met him, like this— his acknowledging it, his true nature—portends real danger.

I must be a fool, too, because even with my fear, it gives me hope. Hope that Lara was right, that her god did not steer us both wrong, and that having this… Fae on my side will be what I need to live.

Who better to have on my side than someone who scares even me?

The dark clouds of my thoughts scatter slightly, letting hope shine through.

“Where to, Sword?” I ask.

“Higher. There’s something I need up there.”

Why won’t he tell me what we’re after? Sighing, I blow out a breath. Patience has never been one of my virtues. As a thief, that trait either comes in incredibly handy or can result in having your hands in the stocks or a rope around your neck, depending on the way luck blows.

“Higher it is,” I belatedly answer.

I sneak a glance at him, but he’s not paying me any attention. A muscle in his temple twitches, and he stares through the snow-cloaked trees like he can see something I can’t.

The thought makes me shiver again, and I pull my cloak around me tight. Mushroom’s lead is half frozen, and I tug it gently to get him moving.

Together, we follow the Sword through the wild Hiirek Mountains. My stomach grumbles, and I’m sure Mushroom is hungry too, but the Sword seems unbothered by such human problems. The snow muffles the normal noise of the forest, or maybe it’s just that most animals are smart enough to be hunkered down in their cozy dens after last night’s storm.

I rub my stomach, then take a moment to root through the food pack for a length of peppered jerky for me and a bruised apple for Mushroom. Chewing thoughtfully, I study the Sword’s back as he leads us through the snow-dappled trees.

There’s no disguising the fact he’s not human, and I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.

Any question of it in my mind is completely erased by the sight of him in the daylight, the sun reflected on the pockets of snow between the thick evergreens. He’s too beautiful, too perfect. Even the ropes of scars across his back add to the effect instead of diminishing or marring it.

He’s powerfully built, which… is odd. He should be leaner than he is after a decade in a cell. Should be weaker, too, but he doesn’t seem to struggle at all as the air grows thinner and colder. I’m not about to complain, but I huddle as close to Mushroom’s huge warm body as I can, and the mule seems to enjoy nudging me off balance as part of his fun for the day.

The Sword never seems off balance.

In fact, he seems to not only be going further up the summit of the Hiirek range, he also seems to know exactly where he is going.

My brow furrows as I watch him through the icy cloud of my own breath.

If I really, wholly trusted him, I would be elated to have someone so sure of himself at my side.

Problem is, I don’t trust him.

There’s no way he trusts me either. In fact, he’s made it clear he despises me and the other Sisters of Sola. He made it clear by murdering them by the dozens.

Fair enough.

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