A Curse of Gold and Steel by Victoria Robin

Author:Victoria Robin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Victoria Robin

✽✽✽

The room was a cramped space, mostly taken over by a hay mattress and coarse wool covers. The bedstead was scraped and splintery as if someone had spent a boring night knifing away at it. There was the underlying smell of stables. On one side sat a tiny stove, loaded with logs over an ashy layer, still dormant.

After a quick survey of the room, Helas shamelessly took a swig from the bottle. He shook his head, as if it were stronger than he’d anticipated, then took a second one.

“Oh, darling,” he said, “I beg you do not give me that look.” He offered me the bottle, but I refused. He shrugged and deflated, all the pent-up tension leaving his body.

“First you try to ignore me,” I sighed, “Then you offer me to drink. What are you playing at, exactly?”

“Ignore you?” His face stretched.

“You turned into all sorts of things.”

Now he frowned, but in a flabbergasted sort of pout, amused even. “The greenery was viciously thick,” he said evenly, testing funny-sounding words out, “and I could not scout our route as efficiently. How did you believe I found the well?”

My neck heated up. I stared into space to get it to stop burning. Scouring, that’s what he was doing. “Ah.”

He burst out laughing. It was bitter, not dishonest, but not the kind you join into either.

Swallowing my embarrassment, I turned to lighting the stove, kneeling on the ash-strewn floor. The flint wasn’t catching. I groaned and tried for more sparks. My hands were trembling with fatigue.

In a bout of irritability, I snatched the bottle from him and took a swig. He gave me a glare of extreme reproach, then smiled when my face contorted. Cheap booze. It burned my throat and, once it landed, left a pleasing torpor behind. The second sip hurt slightly less.

“Foul, is it not?” Helas said pleasantly, without any trace of the fox in it. We kept handing the bottle back and forth until he was grinning and I mellow and the alcohol at its dregs.

“Ranag won’t stop,” I said, fiddling with the cork. I considered telling him. I didn’t know whether it was the alcohol or the fairy component in it, but my brain felt like it was tingling, a scratch that I couldn’t pick at. Helas hadn’t questioned my reasons to escape—if he had, he’d come to private conclusions—but perhaps he should know. “He,” I started again, “If he knew that you’re with me—”

He whistled a tune and broke off chortling. His words mushed together when he spoke. “I really do not want to talk about Ranag.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

He paced the room. I pulled my legs back before he could trip in them. “I do not want to talk,” he drawled, “I want to dance. See? Mm-mh.” He tipped his fingers like orchestra wands to a made-up rhythm and spun, eyes closed, humming to himself.

I tapped his knee with my foot and he stumbled, then resumed right where he’d left off. “You’re ridiculous,” I said.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.