Page 99 of Silverbow
“Where are you going?” Jorah asked.
Elling gritted his teeth. “To tell Wielder Manov that an uncontained fire wielder just stopped in front of the inn.” He did not want to. He hated the collaring. It turned his stomach and haunted his dreams, but disobeying a direct order was more than Elling could manage. A better man might fight it, might hold out to give the man some chance to get down the Misthol Road, but Elling was too broken to be a better man.
Aiden
Aiden wrestled with the blasted damper on his gift. He was not made of bloody stone like Bade Bandone or Oryn bloody Brydove. He couldn’t help the sparks that danced at his fingertips. Gritting his teeth, he quenched them and pushed the damper back in place, cutting off the roaring furnace of his gift. Cold crept over his skin as it sputtered out.
He stole a glance at Colm. He did not look up from where he tied Lanta. With his own damper in place, he hadn’t felt the sparks jumping about.Thank the gods. I’d never hear the end of it. I bloody hate Estryia.
Turning to the street, his gaze snagged on a buxom girl who threatened to spill out of her corset as she hurried by. Well,hatewas a strong word. Estryia did have its perksafter a fashion.
He tied his own reins to the hitching post and gave the gray a scratch behind his ears. It really was a shame Ryerson House was no more. He rather liked the horse and he would need a remount before his face aged more than a year or two. Aiden’s godsong had manifested young, but he thanked the gods he hadn’t slowed until around sixteen. He did not think he would have liked wearing the face of a ten year old for a decade or more. As it was, he had lived double the span of these mortal men, and most of them still called him ‘boy’.
In the decades he’d ridden with Brydove, Aiden had had nine horses, ten if he counted the one he’d had only for a short time in Durelli. Sana had been one of his favorites, but Kez might claim the top spot in time.
“We are not here to leer,” Colm muttered, giving him a sharp look over Lanta’s saddle. To Colm, he would always be ‘boy’.
“I wasn’t leering!” Aiden protested.
“Bread, and be quick about it.”
“Be quick about it,” he muttered under his breath as his boots sent up little puffs of dust crossing the Misthol Road.
He pushed open the door to the baker’s shop and grinned at the girl standing behind the counter. Her face was plain, but she had the kind of curves and soft edges he found most intriguing.
Be quick about it.
“Haven’t seen you around before,” she said shyly.
Aiden sighed as he leaned on the counter. “Just passing through.” He gave her his best smile and watched as she wrapped up the loaves he’d pointed to.
“There’s a gleeman performing in the tavern tonight,” she said. Dimples appeared when she smiled. He had a certain soft spot for girls with dimples.
“A gleeman, eh? Perhaps I can convince my companions to stay.”
It was unlikely, but a girl and a gleeman could be good fun. He doubted the Silverbow had ever seen a real gleeman. Perhaps he could convince Bade to vote with him.
His best smile got him a blush and a sweet roll and Aiden whistled softly as he pushed the door open to step out into the street. He stumbled when a wielder’s shield came crashing down, severing him from his gift. Loaves of bread tumbled from his arms in shock as the dampered flame slipped out of his reach. He felt naked and exposed. He reached frantically for his sword, but Aiden knew it was already too late.
Five of Pallas Davolier’s bloody black coats stood clustered around the baker’s door. His arms snapped to his sides, and he did not need to see the one wearing the air wielder’s badge to recognize what bound him. Terror, white hot, coursed through his veins and he rolled his eyes toward the man wearing the five pointed star. He was young, his face tight, but he held the spirit woven shield fast as Aiden clawed at it.
A hard faced earth wielder grinned as he rolled up the sleeve of his coat. He wore four glittering silver links. He chuckled as he slipped on a fifth and the air wielder stepped forward to snap a silver collar around his neck.
Pain unlike anything he had ever experienced ripped through him, shredding him from the inside out. The shield and bonds of air fell away and Aiden dropped to his knees, clawing for the collar. His hands burned, seared like they had been dunked in acid, but they found no hold on the artifact that seemed to have become part of his skin. He tried to reach for his flame and the pain blinded him, making it dance out of his reach. Still, he clawed. It sparked and flickered, but when he tried to draw out a wielding, he doubled over from the agony. As he fought, he was only dimly aware that the screaming in his ears was coming from his own mouth.
twenty-five
Enya
If the Thronelands had seen the spring rains, the boiling sun overhead had already done a fine job of drying them out. Even with the scarf Oryn had brought back from one of his supply stops wrapped around her nose and mouth, Enya was back to cursing the dust as they meandered south at a pace meant for Colm and Aiden to catch up.
Sun Day had not yet officially marked the start of summer, but if this was spring in the Thronelands, she would hate to see the South. Sweat dampened her shirt, but when she rolled her sleeves up to her elbows, she regretted the sunburn that would follow. Anything she didn’t cover seared. She eyed the silly looking wide brimmed hats some of the merchants and wagon drivers wore with envy.
Her companions seemed impervious to the weather and that only made their blasted grace and good looks more irksome. Oryn’s hovering had intensified after the demondread and as much as she disliked his looming, she started to find strange comfort in her ever-present shadow. She only hoped his proximity and elven senses didn’t let him pick up how her traitorous heart started leaping about when he brushed too close or when she thought of those torturous moments his arm had been draped around her.
She was thinking about asking Oryn to get her one of those hats when a strange pulse suddenly rippled through the air. It made Enya’s heart squeeze andstutter as she sucked in a sharp breath. Arawelo tossed her head and danced to the side, looking for the source. Cle reared under a cursing Bade. Kiawa alone stayed his course, his eyes rolling wildly.
“What was that?” She spluttered.
