Behind us, Keffa says, “You hear those voices? Men, down the hall,” and takes off with a determined gait.
My heart drums in my throat.Vall and Garro? Are they back?
“We’ll be back soon, Cy,” I say with another weak smile.
Down the hall, Vallan and Garroway come into view. Lyroan, the dhampiress in love with Vall, lingers behind him with big doe-eyes.
I sigh to myself and pinch the bridge of my nose. Both my mates look scuffed, like they’ve been wrestling in the mud.
“Apologies for our tardiness, silverblood,” Vallan grunts. He reaches into his buttoned coat and withdraws three fragments of silver.
“What took you so long?” I ask.
Garroway cuts in. “Oh, you know, the occasional riot, the hanging of citizens, the battle with the elemental lawmen roaming the town. Two sects these days, with two ideals, both the Bronzes and Silverknights thinking they’re in the right.”
I run my hand through my hair with exasperation. “Aye, except that first group is exploiting the townspeople, and the second group is fighting against tyranny.”
Jinneth scoffs. “Have I taught you nothing?”
Vallan reaches into his tunic and pulls out another few slivers of glistening bars.
Jinneth’s eyes light up . . . shortly before her smile becomes confusion. “Where’s the rest of the silver?”
Garroway blows a raspberry, drawing our attention. “Well, you see, that’s just it. We found Vanison Shirin after a tireless search spanning great lengths of the city. He was in his third hideout.”
“And?”
He runs a hand over his head. “Between providing the Silverknights weapons, supplies for secret citizen smiths, and some for the Chained Sisters’ manufacturing of the elixir . . . turns out Vanison’s silver stores are nearly dried up.”
With a curse, Jinneth wheels around, snatching the slivers of the stuff from Vallan’s big hand. “Disgraceful! What’s a silversmith without silver?”
“An attractive man who has the personality of a viper?” Garroway offers, throwing his arms up.
Keffa comes up beside me as my mother storms off toward Cy’s room to check on her. The Iron Sister pulls at my sleeve. She has a frightened expression—the first I’ve seen of that look since we lost Jinneth to Alacine Mortis. “What will we do, child?” she asks me, as if I have all the answers. “The Silverblood is the only thing keeping the Chained Sisters useful and safe.”
My voice is dreary, because I only see one option. “Looks like we’re going to have to find some way to break into the North Mines and gather the damned silver for ourselves, Iron Sister.”
Chapter 17
Sephania
I linger around a small room with my mates, pacing, figuring out what we can do and what they went through to get the small portion of silver they arrived with.
Stopping cold on my feet, I twirl to Vallan. “You say you ran into Silverknights en route to Vanison?”
“And Bronzes. And citizens hanging Bronzes.”
“We managed to get away in the turmoil before we could witness the bloodbath,” Garro says from the corner. He seems to be hiding in the shadows. “Make no mistake though, little honey badger, it was a bloodbath. Humans killing each other, despite what color shiny armor they wore.”
My lips peel back in a snarl. “Overflesh-traders? How have the worst of the worst managed to get the upper hand in this situation?!”
Garroway taps his smooth chin. “I think it’s more nuanced than that. You see, the citizens believed the Bronzemen they hangedwereflesh-traders. The Bronzes came to change their minds with steel. The Silverknights, I think, arrived to defend them. The citizens, that is.” His wrist circles and his brow furrows, looking like he confused himself.
“. . . And somehow our pale asses got sandwiched in the middle of it,” Vallan mutters.
“We ran into your old comrade,” Garroway announces. “Rirth.”
I stop pacing, going rigid. My eyes blow wide. “Shit.”