Page 1 of Silver & Gold

CHAPTER 1

THIS WASN’T THE FIRST TIME that Seth didn’t know what to say to Raider. But, he was sure, it would be the last. This was an ending. An agonizingly drawn-out ending.

Appropriate, then, that it should be in seemingly endless darkness. But awful too—because Seth knew that Raider was struggling with the tunnel’s close walls, and it fucking killed him to hear the short, shallow breathing at his back.

Raider was claustrophobic.

Seth didn’t know the source of the fear. There was a lot about Raider that Seth didn’t know. And there were some things that, almost, Seth wished he didn’t know.

He shouldn’t be thinking about any of it, not right now. He needed to stay alert for any sound of pursuit. He needed to be ready to fight and ready to plan his next step in pursuing Julian.

The arcanist, aided by his ifrit, had undoubtedly left Aqarat now that the book he’d stolen from the Arcanum College was back in his possession. That theft (and the accompanying murder of a fellow scholar) that had launched Seth on his manhunt months ago had never made much sense to him. It made even less sense now that he knew the stolen book was about Raider.

About Raider’s quicksilver implantation.

About Raider working with the arcanist Kahzir to assassinate Kahzir’s brother, Hassan, Emperor of the Golden Empire. The emperor who had been Raider’s lover.

And Raider had killed him. Raider had killed a man he claimed to have loved. A good man, according to Raider.

What could love mean, to someone capable of that?

And what did it matter, when Raider had never claimed to love Seth in the first place?

And yet, despite all that, Seth couldn’t fucking take the sound of Raider breathing like that behind him. So he reached back. Reached out. But when his fingers brushed Raider’s, Raider yanked away.

With a surge of fierce, unthinking anger, Seth whipped around to face him. The spherical arcane lamp swung wildly on his utility belt, throwing light across the rough walls of the tunnel, throwing it across the man who had shattered Seth’s heart.

Why the hell did he have to be so damn beautiful? What god had carved the striking planes of that face with its high cheekbones and fine, straight nose, the hollow cheeks and perfect jawline?

Once, Seth had thought it must have been Atri, goddess of love, beauty, and the arts. It had seemed that way when Seth had kissed that face, those lips, that throat. It had seemed that way when Seth had bared every truth of his body’s desire each time they’d had sex.

But perhaps Raider had been shaped instead by Aman, god of madness and chaos—because what else could so thoroughly have wrecked Seth’s careful control and warped his principles? For this man, despite his lies, despite his murderous past, Seth had made himself a fugitive.

They stared at each other long enough that the lamp stopped swinging and the light lay cold and still over Raider’s brilliant red kaftan and bronze-skinned face. It caught, gleaming, in the waves of his dark hair.

Raider swallowed visibly. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Just keep quiet. This is an escape, remember?”

Raider’s flinch was subtle, mostly around his gorgeous amber eyes. But those eyes weren’t real. They were arcane. One worked with the cold mechanics of a scope. The other, the right one that sometimes flared to gold, Seth hadn’t figured out.

Raider could have pointed out that anyone on their trail would see Seth’s light before they heard his breathing. He could have told Seth he was being an asshole. He could have reminded Seth that if Seth would let him lead the way, he could navigate without the light, with only his arcane eyes.

But Raider knew, perhaps, that Seth would not accept being dependent on him. So Raider simply hoisted his makeshift pack higher on his shoulder and gave a brief nod.

And they went on.

Raider was totally silent after that. All Seth could hear were his own booted footsteps and the thud of his own broken but somehow beating heart.

Seth clicked off his lamp when moonlight spilled down from above, cutting between the bars of a grate, splashing down the rungs of a ladder. As Raider had explained after he’d first scouted this escape route, the exit was disguised as a well. The arcane grate could only be opened from inside—which meant that any ambush awaiting them would come from beyond the well.

When Seth put a hand on the ladder, Raider said, “Let me go first.”

He had a good reason to suggest that. A logical one.

The quicksilver had a strange effect on Raider’s body. Though it caused him pain, inversely, it also triggered his body to quickly heal any wound. If blades or arrows awaited them at the top of the well, Raider would survive them as Seth might not.

But Seth was a Curator for the Arcanum. A lifetime of hunting down artifacts for the College had been a lifetime of dangerous situations. This was no different. So he said harshly, “I don’t need you,” and set into the climb.

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