Page 7 of Enchantment of Silver and Sea
At first glance, I saw it was a man wearing all black—a loose black T-shirt, black jeans, and black boots. Like the woman, he was somewhere in his early twenties and had a tall, athletic build. But his skin, while having something of a healthy glow, was pale. His hair—also black—was short, but had a tousled look to it, with strands hanging over his brow and past his ears.
Then he turned to face me.
He had high cheekbones and full lips, with thick, dark lashes that were the perfect complement to his inky hair. And all of that came together like a perfect picture frame to accentuate the most striking eyes I had ever seen.
The irises were silver. Not pale blue, or even a shade of blue that took on a silvery hue, but pure, metallic silver. The candlelight reflected off them as if they were solid chrome.
He smiled at me. A lazy half-smile that somehow made his face even more spectacular.
“Ugh. Kill me,” the woman spat, snapping me out of my trance.
“Aw, you’re no fun,” the man said to her, still not taking his eyes off me. His voice was low and deep.
“Kieran is the most beautiful man in the world!” the woman exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “He amazes us all daily with his beauty.” She turned to me. “Have you beheld his majestic face? Do you want to rip his clothes off and make sweet love to him?”
I gaped at her.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said decisively. “Unfortunately, she has more important things to do right now. So get the hell out and go keep watch.”
I couldn’t even begin to know what to say.
The man, who I now understand to be Kieran, winced. “She knows my name now. I think you just broke one of the most important rules of our mission,Nyathera.” He said the last part with emphasis.
The woman— Nyathera?—gave him one of the most terrifying expressions I’ve ever seen. If looks could kill, he would have been dead a thousand times over.
“Don’t worry, Kieran,” she said calmly. “It doesn’t matter that she knows your name. Because when we get back, I’m going to kill you myself.”
They stared each other down.
I sat there wordlessly.
Nyathera was the first to look away, shaking her head. She walked back to me and went back to wrangling with the map.
Kieran’s eyes flicked to mine. He grinned.
“If you’re going to tell yourEnforcersabout me,” Nyathera said tightly. “Tell them my name isNya. I don’t answer to Nyathera.”
There was a beat of silence. I glanced over to find that she was staring at me, waiting for confirmation.
“Okay,” I blurted out.
“Anyway,” Nya continued. “The marsh wolves.”
The map was still wrinkled, but I could make out crudely drawn shapes of trees, wavy lines for water, and squiggles that I assumed represented other plant life. There were gray smudges where someone had sketched and erased lines several times. In the right-hand corner, there was a lumpy blob with some lines drawn through it. Another tree? A bush that was the size of a tree?
No, I realized upon closer inspection. It was someone’s attempt—a pitiful attempt, unfortunately—at mapping out the interior of a cave.
Everything suddenly clicked into place.
“You guys aren’t from here,” I said quietly. “You’re from outside the walls. Strangers.”
I slowly looked up at them. Kieran had moved to stand next to Nya, and they were both regarding me with unreadable expressions.
Then they burst out laughing.
“‘Strangers?’” Nya wiped a tear from her eye. “Is that what they’re calling us now?”
Kieran shrugged. “Apparently so.”
