Quicksilver (Fae & Alchemy, #1)

by Callie Hart

“There is you, and there is the pain. Nothing else,” he whispered. “Move past it. Move through it. Let it roll over you.”

Kingfisher towered over me like the god of death himself.

Fisher laughed. Really laughed. The sound was rich and deep, and made something inside me sit up straight. When I’d picked up a pitcher at the Winter Palace and filled a glass for myself for the first time, I’d thought the sound of that rushing, free water would be my favorite sound until the day I died. I was wrong. The sound of Fisher’s genuine laughter was rarer than water had ever been back in Zilvaren; it almost brought tears to my eyes to hear it.

“What?” I whispered. He thought for a moment, appearing to decide whether he’d answer the question. Then he said, “I was wrong, y’know. You are a good thief.” “What have I stolen?”