Page 152 of Silverbow
“Don’t try to use the arm,” he growled. “You’ll make it worse. There’s a healer in Tuminzar that can fix it but I…I…”
“Fine,” she sighed, her eyes sweeping around the cabin. “How long until we’re there?”
“A week to the coast. Then a few days through the mountains.”
She huffed again. “I don’t suppose this ship has a serving woman.”
“You’re stuck with me, Silverbow.”
Enya
Oryn insisted she not get out of bed that first day. When she tried, she teetered so dangerously on her feet, she ended up braced against the table, glad to find it bolted to the floor. Liam brought her a tray heaped with salt beef, cheese, and some strange tasteless cracker she thought she might break her teeth on. She wasn’t sure she would have an appetite for any of it only to find she’d eaten every crumb.
Liam watched her warily.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she finally snapped.
“Sorry,” he muttered, but his face didn’t change.
“I’m fine, Liam.” It was a lie. Her left arm was useless, bound against her chest in a sling Oryn had fashioned but still with every movement, pain erupted through her. Still, she supposed she ought to count herself lucky. She’d seen the bolt sitting on the captain’s table. It could have been worse.
“I thought you were going to die.”
Enya surveyed him over a chipped teacup. There was a faint green tinge to his haggard face as if the sea didn’t agree with him. “I’ve quite a bit to do before my time runs out, Liam.”
He swallowed, fidgeting on the stool. “Enya, I…I-”
“I know, Liam.” She was too tired, too drained to offer him much more, but she didn’t want him to say it. She didn’t want him to utter those words that would change everything between them. She loved Liam. As a brother. As a friend. But she had known he would not go to Valbelle and that terrified her.
Enya recoiled from the hurt painted across his features and Liam wiped it away for her benefit. He straightened, his tone hardening. “What else did your seer show you?”
Enya studied him, eyes narrowing. “What is it they told you?”
Liam did not wilt under her stare. “That you aren’t a Ryerson.”
It was her turn to fidget, setting her teacup on the tray and turning the handle so it was just right, unwilling to meet Liam’s gaze. “Technically.”For a gargoyle, Oryn bloody Brydove has a big mouth.
“I watched you almost die. You could at least tell me the truth.”
She squared her shoulders, a motion that made her wince. “I am a Ryerson. But Renley was not my father.”
Liam’s brow furrowed. “Who was?”
“I’m not sure, actually.” She hadn’t seen him in the visions.
“Then how are you-”
Enya held up a finger to silence him. “Marwar brought me to Ryerson House as an infant.”
Liam blinked, tilting his head from side to side, studying her. “You don’t look like the old man, either.”
Enya huffed. “He was only the messenger, I think.” She supposed she didn’t really know, but she was fairly certain the Captain of the Queen’s Guard was not her father.
“From who?”
Enya swallowed and picked at the edge of the blanket. “My mother…my mother was Maia Trakbatten.” Enya waited, letting the words settle between them. It was the first time she’d admitted that aloud.
Liam’s brow furrowed. He let out a rough laugh. “And my da is Pallas bloody Davolier. Don’t be ridiculous, En.”
