Page 129 of Silverbow
She squeezed back and looking into those red-rimmed eyes, Liam knew he would agree to walk through fire if she asked him to.
She lowered her voice even further, so that he had to lean closer to hear her whisper. “I’m going to steal Preya’s clutch from Blackash Keep.”
The world tilted and the breath whooshed out of him. He wondered if he should tell her to walk through dragonfire was certain death, but he knew she had already made up her mind.
thirty-three
Elling
The floor stones of the throne room in the Haarstrond Keep were cold despite summer being upon them. Elling knelt at the foot of the dais, his knuckles pressed into the floor and his eyes downcast. He could feel the black coats flanking the throne room, empty save for them, the king, and his spymaster. Elling had been grateful for that. He thought he might stand a better chance of surviving the delivery of his message if there were fewer ears to hear it. Pallas Davolier was a proud man and he did not take well to insult or failure.
“Two dead, four injured,” Wielder Durmham drawled. The air wielder from the South had been sent back with him, clutching his leash.
Jorah, fortunately, was among the injured still lingering in Midbury, but between the broken leg and the blow to his head, it would be a long time before he was finding more trouble.
“Fifteen have gone on to reinforce the outpost in Wind-”
“The bird told me that,” the king barked roughly. “I understand Oryn Brydove left a message for me?”
“He delivered it to Recruit Coblegh,” Wielder Durmham answered.
“Well?”
Elling cleared his throat, ensuring his voice would carry to the gaudy throne perched atop the dais. From where he knelt, he could only see the goldenpaw of one gilded lion scaling a leg. “Your Majesty, he said, ‘Remind your king, every breath he takes is a gift I allow him, and if he collars one of mine, he too will be King of Ashes.’”
Elling waited in the long silence, staring at the stones worn smooth by centuries of boots.
“Is that all?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Elling answered firmly.
“Was the girl with him? The one Peytar wants?”
Elling considered how far the collar would let him go. “I did not see a girl during the skirmish, Your Majesty. Only the four demi-elves.”
“Reports confirm the girl is still in their company,” Lord Vyrwel crooned.
“Have you discovered what it is Peytar wants with her?” Pallas demanded.
Elling stared at the stone, holding his breath.
“Hard to say, my lord,” the spymaster mused. “Louissa herself just saw the girl for her Testing and reported nothing out of the ordinary. She is giftless.”
“What is Brydove’s interest in her?”
“If reports are to be believed, it seems she is the prince’s latest plaything. Perhaps Peytar sees some personal use for her.”
Elling was glad his face was downcast so the king and his spymaster did not see the surprise that flickered across it.His plaything? Light.Elling had presumed Enya would move on of course, but it still felt like a shock. It had been shock enough to realize who the air wielder had been. The legendary Prince Oryn Brydove of Eastwood, the strongest air wielder in Elaria, perhaps the world. He did his best to wipe any hint of emotion from his face.
“He was spotted riding in this afternoon, Your Majesty, we will know soon enough.”
A pit of dread settled in his middle. Elling held his breath.
“And the girl?” The king demanded.
“Not with him, but we can presume he knows he’s being watched.”
“What are they doing here?”
