Page 105 of Silverbow
“You must understand, as soon as we saw the signet, we set her free,” Ascal said softly. He had the decency to lower his eyes. “We never would have let them touch her if we’d known.”
“You let them-”
“He speaks true,” she said quickly, cutting off his snarl, as if that might be enough to soothe his temper.
“Who?”
“I’m fine,” she lied.
Ascal desperately looked to Colm for help, but he found none there, as the normally even-tempered man glowered like Bade. The blademaster stalked a circuit around them, sword in each hand, ensuring the mortals remained distant while the men of Eastwood sorted this between themselves. Enya's head swiveled wildly from Oryn to Ascal to the men who pressed in toward them.
“It wasn’t them, Oryn.”
“Then who was it?” He barked. He needed to find somewhere to place the rage that was spooling out of control. She did not reply, so he turned to the demi-elves. “Who?”
They indicated the man who had gagged her. With disgust, Oryn stalked past them, past Bade, and between the blades that shrank back. He did not care that steel was at his back. He welcomed it, welcomed an excuse, if Bade did not see to it first.
He seized the man by his throat and hauled him up to kneeling, feeling his pulse beneath his fingertips. The man’s hands came up to claw at Oryn’s wrist, and he gazed down at the eagle in flight he wore on his little finger. With his free hand, Oryn grabbed the ring and wrenched it free with a snap that cracked bone. The man let out a whimper.
“You dare take what is mine?” He seethed. Red clung to the engraving and any semblance of self-control evaporated. He looked back at the face that was turning red to purple under his grip and unwove the gag so the man could speak.
“I…didn’t-”
“I’ve never had much use for liars.”
He watched horror fill the man’s face as his hand tightened. He clawed more desperately at his wrist. Oryn held, watching him turn a deep purple, feelingthe frantic throbbing of his pulse, and with a spiral of air, he let Mosphaera rip the rest of his breath from his lungs. He let go, and the dead man crumpled to the dirt.
When he turned back to the others, Oryn could not face the girl whose eyes had gone wide, reflecting Aiden’s dancing flame. Something that looked like horror painted her features.
“Who’s in charge here?” He snapped. No one spoke, but all eyes swiveled to a man with dark hair and a crooked nose. “You will tell me. Who else touched the girl?”
The man wearily eyed the flame as if considering whether it might be better to leap through it, but he drew himself up and met Oryn’s gaze.
“Now my lord, we can put this right. Had we known, we would not have taken her. It is the bounty, you see, nothing personal. We will return the lady’s things.” He reached slowly into his coat and drew out a coin purse.
“Nothing personal.” But even as he said the words, Oryn couldn’t shake the feeling that it was.
twenty-seven
Oryn
“Well, I have to admit, I expected more from you, Princeling.”
Oryn froze, Kolvar’s coin purse clutched in his fist. The scent that had been masked by the smoke and fear and his own blind rage hit him. It was metallic like blood, butwrong. Behind him, Bade muttered a curse and Colm uttered a prayer, but the gods and their songs could do little against a black blooded witch.
The demi-elves closed ranks, placing themselves between him and the tall, striking woman who stalked forward. Their hands found hilts and he felt Ascal’s air and Colm’s spirt gifts surge around him. He knew the others were clutching earth and fire as well, but it would all be futile. If any of them could stand against Hylee Starseer, it would be him. It was his own power she wielded after all.
The shackles constraining her steps rattled as she moved, but with a pulse of dark power, they turned to dust and fell away. Unbound by the iron and whatever damper she had been holding in place, her dark essence poured from her in a sea of swirling shadows, letting them ripple and eddy as her tattered dress shifted into a sultry thing of dark wisps. A star-flecked cloak streamed from her shoulders.
“Nimala help any fool who tries to chain a witch,” he hissed in the direction of Ruven and the Ashstrom twins.
Hylee laughed, the sound slithering along his skin. It was a sound that chased Oryn in his nightmares. “Your gods can’t help you now, Princeling.”
“The irons-” Ascal muttered, but whatever he started to say died in his throat as Hylee stroked a red lacquered fingernail down the side of his face.
There was not enough iron in all of Tuminzar to contain the power that seeped out of her. The mortals stood frozen, jaws unhinged. Oryn backed a step closer to Enya. He hadn’t just sent her into a bounty hunter’s camp. He’d sent her straight into the clutches of the strongest witch in Elaria.Gods forgive me.
Raven black hair tumbled in waves down the witch’s back. Porcelain skin that looked like it held all the light of the moon shone in the deep plunge of her neckline. She was breathtaking when she turned violet eyes on him, eyes that seemed to see right through him to the mortal girl he shielded.
