Quicksilver (Fae & Alchemy, #1)

by Callie Hart

The House of Kala. Kala’s, as it was known by most, was one of the only places in the ward that would trade food and drink for goods instead of money. A chancer with empty pockets and an empty belly could also gamble for goods with some of the tavern’s more disreputable types if they were brave or stupid enough.

“Carrion again?”

Who’s Carrion?

Carrion Swift: the most notorious gambler, cheat, and smuggler in the entire city. He was also uncommonly good in bed—the only man in Zilvaren who’d ever made me scream his name out of pleasure rather than frustration. His bright auburn hair was a signal flare in the dimly lit tavern.

The Twins beat down on the top of my head, their punishing heat making my mind swim.

The Twins= twin suns

Gifts that had long since been lost to us. Humans were no longer capable of reading each other’s minds, or making the blood boil in their enemy’s veins, or granting themselves eternal luck. Everybody knew that we’d been stripped of those heretical powers hundreds of years ago,

“The gods, of course.” She looked a little surprised. “Don’t you worship the Corcoran in the Silver City anymore?”

“Styx, god of shadows.”

“Kurin, god of secrets. Nicinnai, goddess of masks. Maleus, god of dawn and new beginnings. These two are often counted as one god,”

“Balmithin. Twin sisters. Goddesses of the sky. Legend says that they once were one god, but a mighty storm came, and Balmithin refused to take shelter as it raged across the land. The powerful spirit within the storm was furious that Balmithin didn’t cower before him, and so he lashed her with forks of lightning. Again and again, the lightning struck Balmithin, but she didn’t die. Instead, she cracked and split in two, becoming Bal and Mithin. Bal is the goddess of the sun, but goddess of the day in a looser sense. Mithin is the goddess of the moon, but again, she presides over all of the night.”

Bal. Mithin. Balea. Min. The Twins.

I also had no idea what a moon was, but I set all of that aside for now.

“That’s Zareth, god of chaos and change.”

“To look upon Zareth’s face is to draw his focus. And very few people enjoy Zareth’s attention being focused on them. We respect and revere him, but we’d all rather he was paying attention to what other people were doing instead of us. We touch him on the foot to guide him away from us.”

His jaw was defined, marked with dark stubble, his cheekbones high, his nose arrow straight and proud. There was a dark freckle just below his right eye. And… those eyes. Gods. Eyes were not that color. I’d never seen that shade of green before—a jade so bright and vibrant that it didn’t look real. I’d noticed the filaments of silver threaded through his right iris back in Madra’s Hall of Mirrors, but I’d assumed I’d imagined them, being so close to death and all. The silver shone there, though, definitely real, forming a reflective, metallic corona around the black well of his pupil. The sight of it made me feel strange and off-balance.

So hot 😏😍😂

We’ve been at war with Sanasroth for longer than I’ve been alive.

“Even in times of peace, the Fae are always at war. There are those among our ranks that might pretend to be your friend, but often they’re hiding knives behind their smiles, ready to sink them into your back. You’d do well to remember that.”

Yvelia had only one sun. And it went down at night, disappearing beyond the rim of the horizon.

So like normal lol one sun and one moon

“This is the Winter Palace,” Everlayne reminded me, trying to coerce me away from the window. “It snows year-round here. At least once a day.

Yvelia.

“What part of ‘I am hungover’ did you not fucking understand!”

Lol

“Really? Because I believe you’re wearing my ring, and I don’t remember fucking giving it to you.” “Fine, yes, I took your stupid ring, but I didn’t lie to you!”

Omg she stole it while they were making out!

“Only the person sealed to it can touch an active Alchimeran sword.

“That ring isn’t a relic. It’s a trinket and nothing more. It wouldn’t have protected you.” “It shielded you when you brought me through the pool!” “No. It didn’t,” he said icily. “Of course it fucking didn’t.”

“So, you traveled through without your pendant? To save me?”

“I’m stronger than you, idiot.

Lol tell me how you really feel Kingfisher 😅

“I will go, and I will try to get one of these humans who are so fucking precious to you. I will try to bring that human back here, and you will end this madness. In return, you’ll agree to do whatever I ask of you to help me forge new relics and any other instruments I deem fit.”

“They’re shades, human.” “What do you mean, shades?” “Y’know. Echoes. What remains of a creature after it dies in distress.” My panic cranked up to an eleven. “Ghosts?”

Only those guilty of the most heinous crimes are sent to the Wicker Wood. The trees entomb the evilest kinds of monsters.”

“I’ll happily kiss all of your aches and pains better for you once we strike camp. I’ve been told my mouth has healing properties. Especially when administered between a pair of thighs.”

A scruffy stable hand took the horses when we dismounted. I attempted not to stare at the curved ram’s horns poking out of the holes torn in the top of his woolen hat but did a piss-poor job.

“What about this one, then? Is this one for sale?” The stable hand thumbed a hand in the direction of Carrion. “What’s your best offer?” Fisher asked. “No!”

Lol

“I don’t enjoy hurting people. I don’t like it at all. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t necessary. To avoid far more serious pain, sometimes we have to endure a little sting. Sometimes, some of us have to inflict it.

“Urgh! Do you have to be so difficult?” His eyes danced. “It isn’t mandatory, but I do enjoy it.”

“I’m taking you to the borderlands, Osha. A small fiefdom at the very edge of Yvelian territory. A place called Cahlish.”

“My father and Belikon had a long history. He saw what Belikon was planning long before he murdered the royal family and stole the crown for himself. He took precautions and warded his lands so that neither Belikon nor any of his supporters could cross into them. He was powerful, and his wards were strong. They remain as solid as ever. Belikon can travel to the borders of Cahlish, but he can’t enter. As long as I live and carry on my father’s line, he never will.”

I was under the impression that Cahlish was a battlefront,” I said. “It is.”

“The last time he laid his hands on a sword of note, he used it to murder the true king and the whole fucking Daianthus line. If Rurik Daianthus—”

The god swords are all dead.

And you’re wrong. Not all of the swords are dormant. Nimerelle—”

Solace was your father’s blade?

As for your sword, Nimerelle has been corrupted for ye...

“Renfis Orithian, Renfis Blood Sworn, Renfis of the Silver Lake,”

Those are some impressive titles

the Fae, and the tiny little faeries that hovered in the air, and the satyrs at the bar, and the goblins, and the selkies, and everyone else—they

“It’s an honor to kneel at the feet of the Dragon’s Bane.

The Dragon’s Bane 😏 I like how that sounds!!

“You saved the rippling banner of the proud western Annachreich,”

War hero

“At Sinder’s Reach, you quelled the horde that threatened to burn everything my people had built. Fifty thousand people. Fifty thousand lives. Temples. Libraries. Schools. Homes. They all still exist today. Because of you.”

Horde?! Horde of what? I have a bad feeling!

“Innishtar,” he declared in a deep, gravelly voice. “It wasn’t as grand as these others. Just a small town. We weren’t kind to you when you came. Then the Fae and my lot weren’t the allies we are now. But five of you stood against the dark that night. You saved four hundred. You were there, too, Renfis of the Orithian.”

Sarrush.”

Again and again, the tavern’s patrons stood and spoke. It seemed all of them had a story.

To me, Kingfisher was a surly, foul-mouthed bastard who I wouldn’t piss on even if he was on fire. To everyone inside this tavern, he was a living fucking god.