Page 113 of Silverbow
Colm watched Enya’s every move as south led them back to abend in the Misthol Road. She wore cold fury like armor and ignored every one of Oryn’s attempts to speak to her. He studied him too, trying to puzzle out what it was that Hylee had whispered to him. Or perhaps, what the witch had said had nothing at all to do with his willingness to follow the Silverbow. He’d suspected from the first time hesaw Oryn’s gifts spill out of control that she would wield power over him, but it wasn’t his place.
She drew up at the edge of the hard packed earth, scowling. “Where are we?”
“The Misthol Road,” Oryn answered.
She turned in her saddle to meet Colm’s gaze, an unspoken question in her eyes. “East will take us deeper into the Thronelands. West goes back the way we came.”
She nodded and turned east.
“We should get off the road,” Oryn hissed.
He was right, but all that answered were hoofbeats.
“Where are we going?”
When she still didn’t acknowledge him, he shot a look over his shoulder.
Colm sighed, wondering for how many miles he would play currier between the two crownless courts.Nimala save me.“If we know the heading, Enya, we can advise on the best route. Best to stay off the road after what happened in Midbury.”
She only sniffed.
“I, for one, relish the mystery,” Aiden called jovially from the rear. Oryn flashed a warning look over his shoulder the boy didn’t heed. “Should we make a little wager of it? My gold’s on Pavia. Perhaps some pyrotechnics for Peytar’s palace?”
Bade spat. “Haarstrond Keep. Davolier’s head.”
“Colm?”
Colm had been trying to piece together what Maia could have asked the Second to do, and he was afraid he’d arrived at the answer. Oryn stared at him expectantly, but he wouldn’t, couldn’t, bring himself to say it. That wasn’t his place either.
“We’re waiting.”
“Misthol,” he said dryly.
Her face must have betrayed some reaction Colm couldn’t see from where he rode, because Oryn wheeled his stallion to the side, roughly cutting her off. The mare nipped at Kiawa’s shoulder, but he ignored her as their riders glared at each other.
“Are you out of your bloody mind?” Oryn demanded. “Misthol is the most dangerous city in Elaria, especially for you.”
Enya guided Arawelo around him. It was plain from her annoyance at the forced acknowledgement plain.
“That’s hardly a fair wager,” Aiden protested. “You have to be more specific.”
“Pallas’s spies will know the moment we set foot in the city.”
“That seems like your problem, not mine,” she huffed. At least it was a new answer.
‘None of your concern’had been her refrain since setting back out. She’d undoubtedly adopted it from Oryn and Colm was glad to be riding behind so neither of them could see the grin he was trying to suppress. Noble or common, he’d never met a woman so thoroughly unimpressed with Elred’s son. He’d certainly never metanyonebold enough to swing a fist at a Covwood witch.
“What is it you intend, exactly?”
When she didn’t answer, Oryn turned in his saddle, fury plain on his face. Colm cleared his throat. “Might you consider sharing your intentions? So that we can be of help?”
“I don’t need your help,” she answered. “And I have no interest in sharing my intentions.”
Oryn’s lips pressed together in a thin line, his nostrils flaring.
“Why not?” Colm asked.
“Because I don’t put my trust in men who take witches to their beds.”
