Page 60 of Silverbow
Oryn stared at her. They did in fact have superior healing abilities, but poisons were still poisons. Colm, gods bless him, didn’t miss the opportunity to peel back her words and examine them more closely.
“Which of your people knew us?” He asked. As none of them had inherited the pointed elven ears, it was unlikely a girl from outside Westforks would recognize a demi-elf.
Her head turned slowly toward the spirit wielder, but she kept her eyes fixed on Oryn. “Does it matter?”
“We’re asking the questions right now,” Oryn said.
The girl sneered at him. “Because that’shelping?”
“I offered you an escort to sanctuary,” he reminded her.
“Miss Ryerson,” Colm cut in. “We are bounty hunters, it is true, but-”
“But what?” She snapped. “Are you afraid I’d tell them you’re gifted too? How else would you know? How would they?”
It wasn’t an unexpected leap to assume a demi-elf was gifted, most were, and they were just as susceptible to those abominable artifacts as mortal men, but the girl had it all wrong. Silence stretched for a beat as emerald eyes circuited the room again. The wretch was still plotting her escape. Surely she had to realize she didn’t have a chance against four demi-elves, but she seemed bold enough to try anyway.
“Ought to put her back where we found her. Let nature run its course,” Bade growled.
“I like her,” Aiden pipped.
That wasn’t a surprise. He had said as much before Oryn knocked him off his horse. The girl’s scowl took in both men.
“Neither of you are helping,” Colm sighed. “Miss Ryerson, perhaps we should start over.”
“Start over?” Her rage seemed to spike.
Oryn squeezed his eyes shut as his gifts stirred in answer.Not again.
“Does your kind have the ability to turn back time? Because before you came to Ryerson House, everything wasfine. And now…“ She swallowed audibly.
“You are mistaken,” Colm said gently. “We did not divulge your secret. To anyone.”
The anger faltered, and she shifted uncomfortably on the bed, wrapping her arms around her shins as if she could make herself smaller. The barest oily tendril of fear crept into her scent. Oryn furrowed his brow, trying to piece together what had suddenly triggered it.
“Small,” she muttered, almost inaudibly to even his ear.
Small?Oryn blinked.
“It wasn’t us who tipped off Peytar Ralenet.”
Still, she rocked slightly, her face scrunching. “Do you…think…could…could you open the window?”
“Why? So you can try to jump out of it?” Bade asked.
“I…I…”
Colm darted forward and wrenched the window open, muttering his realization. “She’s claustrophobic.”
That was interesting. Not particularly helpful or relevant unless they decided to torture answers from her by shoving her into a broom closet, but if she kept eyeing that knife like she wanted to plunge it into his chest...
Her eyes fluttered closed as she drew slow breaths of the damp river air that drifted in. He found himself studying the lash that split her cheek just below her eye. The lid was starting to swell. It had to be painful, but she hadn’t so much as raised a hand to it, likely out of some stubborn mortal pride.
When she opened her eyes, they fell on the rough hewn carving he’d been turning over in his hands. The rage roared back to life, obliterating the fear.
“Give it back,” she hissed.
He quirked a brow and held up the little horse head. “What is it?”
