Page 142 of Silverbow
“But you didn’t say anything about goingin.”
Oryn faltered a step, and when he glanced down at her, she was fluttering her lashes at him. His jaw slackened and Enya let out a laugh that seemed to trill across his skin.
“Do you mean to tell me that you just walked right in and took them, right from under his nose?”
“Of course not,” she answered. “I asked.”
“Youasked?“ He spluttered.
“Manners,” she tsked. “You should try them sometime.”
Oryn wrestled the torrent within himself as they strode through the dark streets. “We are going to talk about this,” he hissed through clenched teeth, but he finally let go of her arm.
To his surprise, she looped her elbow through his and hummed the rest of the walk back to the Gandy Dancer.
Liam
Liam, needing something to do with his hands, was whittling away at a carving of a wolf’s head as he sat in the private dining room. Across from him, Linus seemed unconcerned as he moved cards around in some game for one that Liam didn’t understand.
The pit that had settled into his stomach when he laid eyes on the dragon was gnawing at his insides. It had gotten worse after Adar seized him. He’d almost raced after the immortal, but reading something he couldn’t, Linus held out a hand in warning. They had been waiting for what felt like hours even if the clock on the shelf indicated otherwise. Liam held his breath every time he heard footsteps in the hall.
Finally, those footsteps came through the door, and it was Elred’s Eagle who strode in, wearing his usual scowl. He dropped wordlessly into the chair beside Linus and propped a booted foot on an empty seat.
“Is she-”
“Fine,” he growled. “But best stay in that chair and keep your mouth shut.”
Liam thought that might be more words than he’d heard the man string together yet. He quirked an eyebrow, but his silent question was answered a minute later when Enya strode in looking smug. Adar was in on her heels, looking like a wolf ready to rip out a throat.
The knot in Liam’s chest loosened as Enya grinned at him. She said nothing as she reached out a hand to pluck a bottle of wine off the table and sauntered back out to trudge up the stairs. Andril entered as they left, sagging into his own chair, rubbing at his temples.
“The grown ups are fighting,” Linus said to Liam as if he hadn’t noticed the chill in the air.
“Should we-”
“Absolutely not,” Andril answered sharply, pouring himself a cup of ale from the pitcher Kimball’s maids kept full on the table.
“What’s got him in such a state?” Linus asked.
“She did it,” Andril said quietly.
“The-” Liam’s question died in his throat as Andril stomped on his foot beneath the table. Linus only blinked in surprise, looked to Pedron for confirmation, then collapsed in a heap of laughter. Liam’s eyes widened as Pedron joined him, the sound harsh and foreign, and then Andril’s easy laugh rumbled from beside him.They had all gone mad.He waited for the laughter to subside, Andril wiping at an eye, before he asked, “Could someone let me in on the joke?”
Andril clapped him on the back. “Only that for thirty years, people have been trying to do what she did tonight in ten minutes.”
Linus chuckled again as he shuffled the cards and dealt them all in. They were still playing that first hand when Enya came swaggering back in with a bundle of clean clothes in her hand.
“Gentlemen,” she grinned. “We leave at dawn.”
They raised their cups to her in acknowledgement and she trailed after a serving maid.
“She’s growing on me,” Pedron growled.
Linus looked at him as if he had two heads and muttered, “This night just keeps coming more bloody unhinged.”
Oryn
Enya had skipped up to her room and deposited the heavy satchel carefully on her bed. Oryn leaned back against the door, trapping his hands between his body and the wood. He didn’t trust them not to shake, or not to seize her again, as he tried to gather himself. Enya, unruffled and drunk with her victory, or perhaps the wine she was swigging directly from the bottle, was casually riffling through her saddle bags.
