Page 53 of Of Sword & Silver

A chill goes down my spine. The fire in the hearth gutters, the candles on the table flaming higher, sparking purple at the wicks.

My fingers find the daggers at my hips reflexively. I’ve seen her in the grips of magic many times over the course of our strange friendship, but not like this. This is… different.

Nakush is here.

The Sword gently puts a hand on my wrist and I force the daggers back into their sheaths at his silent admonishment.

“Listen now and listen well,” Lara’s mouth says, but it’s not her voice, not even close. My stomach churns. “One to lie, one to kill, one to see. Three more will join your party of deceivers, and the future hangs in the balance. One to heal, one to shield, and one to light the way. Six to retrieve the crown. Two to perform a ritual, one to bleed. Fate leads four astray.”

Lara’s shoulders slump as an uncanny breeze blows through the room, though all the windows are shuttered, and the candles snuff out at once.

“One will die,” I choke out. “Great.” I cradle my head in my hands, overwhelmed. Fuck. I don’t want anyone to die. Not me, not Lara… ugh. Not even the Sword.

“Three more to find,” the Sword repeats. I peek at him from between my fingers.

Lara’s knuckles whiten on her glass and she raises it to her lips, draining it dry. “I know where to start.”

“Less than two weeks,” the Sword adds, blowing out a breath.

“Well,” I drawl, shaking my arms out. “Let’s see if we can play another rousing rendition of prophecy deciphering,” I say with faux merriness. “I’m the one who lies. You’re the one who kills, Sword, Lara, you see. So… we need one to heal, one to shield and one to light the way.” I tick off my fingers. “That last one feels a little inadequate, but who am I to question a god?”

“You do it all the time,” the Sword says dryly.

“That’s different,” I tell him. “That’s the one I was forced to swear myself to. Goes with the territory.”

“We need to start out at first light.” Lara’s tone is brisk, brooking no nonsense. “We must sleep. I will be ready at dawn.”

“Ready for what? Who do you have in mind?” I furrow my brow in confusion.

“He’ll be here any—” Lara’s lips twitch into a smile as a knock sounds from the front room door. “Second,” she finishes.

“Oooh.” I wiggle my eyebrows and fake a shiver, though it’s not too hard after the fucking god of magic essentially possessed Lara.

Don’t see that every day.

She rolls her eyes at me, then sashays into the front room where she conducts most of her business.

The Sword and I trade a glance as she opens the door. Magic still gambols around the room, her house rife with it.

“Lara Tross?” a low baritone voice asks carefully. “I received an order to seek you out.”

“Morrow Vossen,” Lara says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “You’re right on time.”

She opens the door wider, and a bear of a man steps into the front room. He towers over her, not as big as the Sword, but built wider, like a brawler, barrel-chested and massive, with none of the Sword’s graceful, elegant bearing.

He’s good-looking enough, though, strawberry-blond curls wreathing a guileless face, a thick red beard covering his jaw. Morrow Vossen looks around the room with wide blue eyes, and all I can think is he would be an excellent mark to pickpocket. My fingers twitch at my side.

“What do you mean, I’m right on time?” He seems desperately confused about what’s going on.

He’ll fit right in with me.

He glances around the front room, gaze pausing on the pantheon of statuettes Lara displays for her clients before stopping on where the Sword and I stand in the entryway to the main house.

“Let me guess,” I say slowly. “Sworn to Lojad?”

The knight—because it doesn’t take a seer to deduce what the man is—nods once.

“I didn’t realize you’d have guests,” he tells Lara in that deep voice, bemused. She gives him a wide berth as she closes the front door behind him, and the lock slots into place with an ominous click.

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