Page 26 of The Deer and the Dragon
The world screeched to a halt on its axis at his reply.
“No,” said the child, aquamarine eyes glinting with predatory glee, “I don’t think I will.”
Three things happened at once. I crossed my forearms over my face to brace for impact, squeezing my eyes shut. The boy lunged. And a sound—a loud, resonant clanging—cut through the basement.
He had taken less than a half-step toward me before a flash of blinding, glittering light flooded the basement. The brilliant sheen was scarcely recognizable between my tightly shut lids. The child cried out as the high, metallic ring of a sword pierced the air. My arms folded, hands shielding my eyes from the white light as a sizzle and pop bounced off the walls of the room.
Then it stopped. The only noise was the explosive sound of my heart in my ears.
I lowered my hands the moment the blinding passed and saw a tall, muscled figure standing just above the drain in the center of the basement. My eyes widened with recognition. We locked eyes for a horrified moment.
“Silas?” I gasped.
“You can’t be fucking serious.”
Chapter Ten
“Why are you here?” came the boom of his stinging demand.
A sharp wave of thieves’ oil and spice flooded the space where the infection had festered moments before. The pulp from where the cat-like child had stood only seconds ago oozed slowly toward the drain at the center of the room. Aquamarine dripped where crimson blood should have been.
I shook my head, mind tumbling, heart thumping in the cage of my chest. All I could do was beg. I looked at Silas, eyes pleading as I asked, “Can you help me get out?”
A muscle in his jaw flexed. Through clenched teeth, he said, “You shouldn’t be here!”
“What was that?” I panted. My eyes darted between the turquoise liquid and the man responsible for its demise.
His jaw ticked once more in thinly controlled temper.
“Silas!” I demanded. “You have to help me.”
“Stop saying my name,” he hissed.
The skin around his eyes went taut. For the first time, I noticed the sword clenched in his fist. It was how he’d taken out the cat-like boy, and I’d been too horrified to look. I tried to remember if he’d been holding or wearing a weapon on our first encounter, but too much of that night mixed like swirling paint. I only remembered Silas reaching his hand in a way that seemed to gointoRichard’s skull, as if he’d pulledthe man’s tongue backward through his mouth and into his throat. It had all been so impossible. And yet…
“It’s better for us both if you pretend you never saw me,” he said.
“I beg to differ,” I said breathlessly.
“I shouldn’t be talking to you. You’re not my human,” he said.
Rage rocked through me. “I’m no one’s human! I’m alone and locked in a basement. And whether you like it or not, Icansee you. For the love of god, you have to help me.”
His brow creased. “Answer my question first, human.”
“Marlow,” I corrected breathlessly, hands still flat against the cool wall.
Surprise shone through the glittering crown of each iris. His eyes were every bit as metallic in their golden glow as Caliban’s were silver, as if one wore the sun and the other the moon.
“What?” he asked, the word coming out in a baffled staccato.
“My name is Marlow.”
His russet brows lifted further as he said, “Oh, so you’re stupid.”
The assertion was enough to stabilize me. I shook my head as if he’d splashed a bucket of cold water on my face. I wanted to be angry but could only manage confusion.
“Excuse me?”
