Page 57 of Of Sword & Silver

Even if it does make a certain knight of death appealing to me. I frown. Odd, though, how real his touch felt. It’s almost as if I can still feel the imprint of his kiss on my skin.

Ridiculous.

I shake my head and take a long draught of cold water from the flask slung across my chest.

Still, the memory of my dream persists no matter how I attempt to dislodge it from my brain, focusing on the bright red plumage of the winter birds flitting to and fro. Counting the number of silver birch trees doesn’t help, my attention continually slipping to the silent, black-clad knight.

The horses’ slow pace isn’t helping, either.

Time is running out faster than we can travel, the path through the foothills of the Hiirek Mountains too narrow to risk the horses by prioritizing speed.

Still, speed is the only thing that matters, if the dark pressure in my chest is any indicator. It’s as if the chalice’s curse is sitting on my lungs, making me cough. My thoughts are cloudier than normal, like the word I want is right on the tip of my tongue but I can’t quite think of it. Like there is something I’m missing but I can’t figure out what, or even why I think that.

It makes me worried.

I hate being worried.

Huffing in annoyance, I dig my heels into my mare’s sides, trotting closer to where Morrow’s warhorse picks its way over the ice-slicked ground.

“Good Morrow,” I call out to him by way of greeting, grinning at my own feeble joke.

He glances back at me, a mild expression on his face, and I realize he’s likely heard some variation of that every day of his life.

Irritation rises.

It’s the Sword’s fault. He shouldn’t have kissed me in my dreams last night. It made me distracted.

“Sorry,” I tell him, and Morrow’s brows rise a fraction. Now I’m apologizing? “Do you do this often?” I ask him.

“Ride my horse? Yes.”

Lara laughs from where she leads our little group.

“Get called on quests by Lojad. Take up with a band of strangers for reasons you don’t fully understand.”

Any hint of warmth in his expression cools, and he looks me up and down.

“I understand Sola favors those who lie and cannot trust, but Lojad’s chosen are loyal and just.” The censure in his voice rings through each word, and my scowl deepens. “I am here because his hand is upon me, as Sola’s gifts are upon you. We each have a role to play in what’s to come.”

He says the last three words with a certain gravitas that makes me sit up straighter in my saddle. My horse continues to mince across the ground, clearly beyond pleased with herself.

“What’s to come?” I repeat. It doesn’t seem like he means me curing myself of this curse. “What is to come?”

“I do not have the gift of prescience,” he hedges, and I roll my eyes skyward.

“Lara, what is he talking about?” I yell at her, knowing full well she’s listening.

The Sword chuckles from where he brings up the rear, Mushroom on a lead between us.

“We stand at a crossroads. Which path will be taken is yet unknown,” she says lightly.

“Thank you so much,” I call back. “That was incredibly illuminating. So helpful.”

“You’re welcome,” she sings out.

“Where do you expect to find the other two we need for our merry band of thieves, by the way?” Lara’s been incredibly cagey about how we’re supposed to add two more people to our party.

This is why I don’t work well with others.

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