Page 16 of The Silversmith

“What’s his motive?” It was clear he wanted to protect me, but the reason why eluded me. Had Elias been too busy to come fetch me and hired some muscle to drag me out of hiding instead?

“I don’t know,” sighed Ezra. “But he hasn’t cared much about anything but getting to you. It’s odd, if you ask me, but your protection is our objective, and if he aids in that…” My cousin shrugged, then chuckled. “It helps that he’s an absolute beast. Two days ago, we were jumped by a band of thieves, maybe six or seven of them. Finn, Caz, and I had barely grabbed our weapons by the time Smyth was halfway through them.” Ezra shuddered. “Can’t say I like him much, but he’s already saved my life once, so maybe I shouldn’t object.”

“Same,” I mumbled, taking my bottom lip between my teeth with a heavy sigh.

And with the way he looked at me—tense, assuring, warm, certain—I prayed that he would, and thought that he might, teach me exactly how to save myself too.

Chapter five

The others came back inside, and we spent the rest of the morning discussing our route. We were to depart in a few days’ time. Between now and then, I was to eat, rest, and learn to defend myself. I had to know “how to break a nose and punch a dick,” as Gemma so elegantly put it. I agreed that was fair.

If we went to the Winterton Caves directly, the journey would only take us two weeks on foot. But before that, we were to trek southeast to the city of Brinnea, where Simeon requested we meet him. Few details about Simeon’s plan had been given to them, but they suspected it had to do with my power. About me being ready to wield it.

The more they apprised me of the world south of Warrich, the less convinced I was that I would ever be ready for Simeon or those Caves.

Finn and Caz told me about monsters that stalked humans like prey. There were many different kinds—some with wings, some with claws, all with very sharp teeth. They apologized for overwhelming me with information. I didn’t have the heart to tell them I’d been overwhelmed since the moment I heard “queen.”

The monsters were Molochai’s creation, borne from the dark magic he’d stolen from the earth and wielded. There weren’t many this far north in Warrich due to the lack of prey—well, people—but the farther south we went, the more we might encounter.

Midday arrived, along with the sheer panic and embarrassment of not having much of anything to feed my new visitors.

“I don’t have much for food.” Shame crawled up to my throat. “I… I’m sor—”

“When was the last time you had any meat?” Smyth asked as he rummaged through the cabinets and the insulated chest. There was nothing there but a few cans of vegetable broth. “Grains? Vegetables? Milk?”

“I’ve had eggs. Each of the hens usually produces one a day. And broth.” I followed his movements, smooth and urgent. “But our meat ran out three months ago.”

“Three months.” He grew rigid. That strong, menacing jaw pulsed. “You’ve been eating only two eggs a day—at best—and vegetable broth for three months?”

“Yes.” I glanced at Gemma, but she was no help. Her attention darted nervously between me and Smyth. “The blight took most of the crops last year,” I explained. “We made broth from what we could save. My mother said eggs and broth are all I need to… keep my figure.”

Something violent and terrifying blazed in his eyes at my words. My throat tightened while discomforting awareness slithered across my skin. My body had slimmed near to its bones over the past year and a half. My mother had never objected to it, though I had once heard Phillip tell her I didn’t have much weight to lose to begin with.

“I see.” His voice was cold, his expression empty and unreadable—that violence gone, tamped down. An inflexible pause gripped the room, broken only by his swift, sturdy footsteps as he crossed the full length of the house in a few long strides. He dug through his bag, withdrew a package bound with twine and butcher’s paper, and set it on the table in front of me. My mouth watered at the delectable sweet-and-savory scent.

“Isn’t this yours?” I was so hungry, but I couldn’t take the man’s food.

“It’s yours now.” He nodded toward the package. “Go on.”

I glanced at the others. Finn and Caz shared amused smirks while Ezra looked on to avoid the tension.

“I’ll share with—”

“No,” snapped Smyth gruffly, pointing firmly to the package. “You will not share. It’s yours.”

I carefully unwrapped the twine and parchment and gasped when I saw what was inside. My stomach roared. Jerky. I looked up to see Smyth watching my hand, fury and woe spiraling in his hickory stare. I followed his glare and saw that my fingers were trembling. From hunger, from anticipation, maybe low blood sugar. Embarrassed, I tucked my hand into my lap beneath the table and reached for a piece of the jerky with the other.

It tasted so good, like smoky, saccharine sunlight bursting on my tongue. My eyes watered, maybe from the taste, definitely from the gratitude.

“Thank you,” I said after swallowing the first piece.

He gave a firm nod, and the strong muscle in his jaw pulsed beneath his beard. My pulse stumbled over itself. “Caz. Ezra.” Smyth strode over to his coat hanging in the corner and pulled out a worn leather pouch heavy with coins. He tossed it in Caz’s lap, where it landed with a resounding smack. Heavy enough to hurt, but Caz wasn’t fazed. “Go to Thesda. Buy all the food and drink you can with that.”

Ezra opened his mouth to object. “Thesda is nearly a day’s trek southwest—”

“Then you’ll be back by sunset tomorrow if you leave now,” Smyth concurred coldly. “Quick stop for a rest if you’d like. You’ll be fine.” I watched Ezra’s shoulders slump in annoyed resignation. “Finn.” Smyth turned to the younger Sinclair brother. “Think you can manage a hunt today?”

“I’ll do my damndest.” Finn nodded without protest and turned to Gemma. “Care to join me?” A warm half-smile lit up his handsome face.