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Her words made him think of the scholar he and Jack had visited. Argent probably knew about that too.
“Did Dautre pass along what I learned about the Wolf cult?”
“Yes, and you should not speak of that openly.” She pointed a finger at the trees. “They tend to gossip.”
“Them and the stars.”
“Not at all. The stars are simply childish.”
He expected her to lead him to the ballroom where Silver kept court, but today they found him in the natatorium, a fifty-dollar word that had disappointed Adam when he’d learned it simply meant indoor pool, though the painted murals of nymphs and sea creatures lining the room added some class.
The space could have housed whole families, and likely had when it had existed in the mortal plane, before it had been destroyed in a fire. Today it only had one occupant.
Silver usually dressed like an upscale bootlegger on his way to a gun fight. Now he cut through the water in long strokes, barely making a splash as he swam with elven grace and supernatural speed.
Adam would have expected the king to wear an old-fashioned swimsuit, something era-appropriate and possibly striped, but he’d chosen a pair of black trunks just a bit longer than a Speedo.
They left little to the imagination as he sensed his visitors, swam to the end of the pool, and climbed the steps to greet them.
Adam tried not to look as water ran off Silver’s lean, muscled frame, but he was only human.
The king was not.
He had lines only an immortal, free of the need for unhealthy gym habits and dehydration, could achieve with ease. He’d always been slim, but he’d added bulk in the last few years. The hair was new too. Just a line of it that led from his belly button to his waistband and a dusting on his arms and legs. Gunmetal gray, it was the same shade as the slight tufts beneath his arms, a little darker than his brows or the perfect strands on his head, though slicked with water, the shades were closer.
Adam swallowed as Silver reached for a beach towel.
He caught the king’s hint of a smirk as the towel reformed into a pleated pair of chinos and a short-sleeved button-up lined in vertical stripes.
“Why have you brought Adam to me, sister?” Any trace of amusement was gone. “I have dismissed him from the court while he awaits my judgment.”
“He is not here as the page.”
“And yet he wears his sword upon his back.”
Silver cocked his head to the side. A little water clung to his hair. One drop shone there, caught as if on spider silk.
In the months since he’d been away, Adam had forgotten how luminously beautiful Silver was. It was maybe the opposite of Vic, cold and untouchable, though Adam had touched both. He shook off the thought. It wasn’t fair to compare them. Silver was his past. Vic was his future, and if he was lucky, his always.
“There have been incidents in the hollow called the Night Market and at Mercy.”
Argent’s use of the hospital’s name gained Silver’s full attention. The spirit they’d given it to, after the building, had been a terror. It was long dead, and its soul reaped, but its name still gave even the elves pause.
“Explain,” Silver commanded.
Argent and Adam took turns, conveying what they’d seen and done.
“If the sword had not come when Adam called it, many lives, including his, would have been lost.”
“Joey’s shotgun helped, but she’s right. The sword saved my life.”
“Then I am glad it answered your summons,” Silver said to Adam before turning back to his sister. “And I am grateful that you sensed it doing so.”
Argent gave a little nod and Adam wondered if that was it, or if she wasn’t having him tailed twenty-four seven.
It was a good thing they were his friends.
Silver turned back to Adam.
