Chapter Fourteen

Wilder ravished her body with his wicked fingers and talented mouth. Stars burst across her vision, the pleasure he wrought upon her so utterly unrelenting that she thought she might combust. He wrung climax after climax from her with barely a moment's pause, until she was a trembling, half-sobbing mess, and yet he wouldn't let her touch him. Thea didn't press the issue, not when she saw just how deeply she affected him by the bulge in his pants. She just gave herself to him, over and over, hoping that by mapping her body with his teeth and tongue, he would find his way back to her.

In the early hours of the morning, the nightmares descended, and Thea woke to Wilder thrashing in the sheets. He wouldn't wake, no matter how hard she shook him by the shoulders, no matter how many times she called his name. And so she held him through the night, wrapping herself around him, trying to shield him from the pain.

When the morning light filtered through the stained-glass windows, Thea reached for him, only to find his side of the bed cold. Sitting up, she found the fire crackling away and a tray of food left out for her, but otherwise there was no sign of him. The realisation that she was alone made her chest ache.

Violently cursing the Scarlet Tower and King Artos, Thea dragged herself from the bed and bathed quickly in the washroom. As much as she would have loved to take a long soak in the tub, she knew that the time for rest was over, that war awaited her on the other side of the door. And so she dressed for battle.

With her damp hair braided down one side, Thea dressed in light leathers, fastening her Warsword totem where it belonged around her arm, buckling her sword at her waist and sheathing Audra's jewelled dagger in her boot. Just as she reached for the door handle, it swung inward.

‘Hooooly shit.' Kipp stood in the doorway, openly gawking at her.

‘For fuck's sake, Kristopher, move,' Cal complained from somewhere behind him before he, too, clapped eyes on Thea. ‘Whoa…'

After a beat, both young men surged forward and lifted Thea up in the air, jumping up and down with unabashed joy, cheering. Thea couldn't understand a word they were saying, but her face broke into a grin as they bounced her on their shoulders, carting her around the room like she'd won a damn jousting tournament.

‘Fucking knew you could do it,' Kipp declared when they at last set her back down on her feet. ‘Let's see the sword.'

‘I want to see the totem.'

Laughing, Thea tossed her totem to Cal and unsheathed her sword, offering it to Kipp. Neither friend made any mention of the mangled scar at her wrist, both too caught up in the spoils of her Great Rite triumph. Kipp marvelled at her blade, while Cal blinked at her totem.

‘Yours is different,' he said, unable to tear his eyes from the palm-sized symbol.

Kipp's gaze snapped up. ‘Different how?' He snatched the totem from Cal and blinked at the design.

Cal glared at him. ‘I was still looking at it.'

‘You snooze, you lose, Callahan,' Kipp said with a wave of dismissal, studying the totem. True enough, Thea's Furies-gifted armband differed from those that had come before with the lightning detail that encased the three swords.

‘We should have met you at the Dancing Badger for a proper celebration,' Kipp said, finally handing it back to her.

‘Wilder and I stopped there before we came here,' Thea said, before instantly regretting it.

Kipp's eyes nearly bulged out of his head and he clutched his chest in shock. ‘You what? Without me? How could you, Althea Embervale?'

‘Sorry, sorry,' she said, sheathing her sword once more and fixing her totem back around her arm. ‘It wasn't the same without you.'

‘Of course it wasn't.' Her friend flung himself down into one of the armchairs by the hearth.

‘Don't we need to get going?' she asked with a frown.

‘Allies aren't meeting until noon,' Cal explained, helping himself to the pot of tea on the table. ‘We've got the morning.'

‘Well then,' Thea said, sitting down as well. ‘You'd best tell me what the fuck you've been up to all this time.'

Kipp's answering grin told her there were many stories to be shared.

‘Don't you dare,' Cal cautioned him.

‘I would never. That tale is a main course, not a starter.' Kipp wiggled his brows at Thea, and she laughed. She would never tire of time with them, and here in their presence now, she realised how much she'd missed being with them on the road. The journey had been long and hard, with little amusement along the way. Cal and Kipp were a gift in that respect.

‘So where have you been, then?' she asked, settling in.

Cursing the empty teapot, Cal set the kettle above the fire to boil before answering. ‘Well, after you left for the Rite, we travelled to the Guardian barracks around Aveum.'

‘Just you two?' she asked.

Cal nodded. ‘Torj wanted to stay close to Artos, so he sent me as his apprentice under his banner.'

‘He has his own banner?'

Kipp produced an embroidered patch from his pocket, offering it to Thea. A bear surrounded by flames was stitched there.

‘Is that a…'

‘Cursed bear? Yep,' Kipp replied, tucking the fabric away once more. ‘Anyway, the barracks were as you'd expect. No one really knows what's going on, but with Artos still acting the role of the benevolent king, there's little we can say in broad daylight that doesn't fall under treason.'

‘And when it's not daylight?' Thea prompted.

‘Where we could, we started telling the truth – about Artos, about the Daughter of Darkness and what he did. What Osiris did…'

Thea could only imagine what her fellow Thezmarrians would think of King Artos being in league with the reapers, of him framing a little girl for his own attack on the fortress and the longstanding Guild Master of Thezmarr, Osiris, helping him cover it up.

Kipp seemed to read her thoughts. ‘Reactions were mixed. Got ourselves into our fair share of trouble.'

‘You do that no matter what tale you're telling.'

‘I resent that.'

‘That's generally how you feel about the truth,' Cal retorted.

Kipp waved him off. ‘No one has seen poor Princess Jasira, though most hope that she was taken into hiding by those loyal to her mother. The most pressing worry for our cause, though, is that no one has heard from Esyllt in weeks.'

Thea faltered. ‘No one? But he's the weapons master! First port of call for all our resources, for all Guardian strategy. How can no one have —'

Kipp shrugged, though the bounce in his knee belied his concern. Esyllt was his would-be mentor, his fellow strategist. ‘Word is that the shieldbearers' training has been downright dangerous back at Thezmarr in his absence —'

‘It was plenty dangerous when we were doing it,' Thea interjected, picturing Kipp's swollen face and her own knife wound courtesy of Seb Barlowe.

Kipp grimaced with her. ‘It's worse. Osiris is using his power as Guild Master to force people to take the initiation test early. He's bowing to pressure from the rulers that we need more Guardians.'

‘They won't be Guardians if they're dead,' Cal muttered.

Thea had to agree, recalling the dangers of their own initiation trials. They had risked their lives several times, and had they not had adequate training… She shuddered at the thought.

‘Where's Torj?'

‘Last we heard he was still playing the role of loyal Warsword at King Artos' side,' Cal told her. ‘But with Esyllt nowhere to be found, it's only a matter of time before those associated with him are picked off.'

‘Have you told —'

‘Talemir, Anya? Yes,' Kipp replied. ‘We got in last night and made our report. Speaking of which… Talemir fucking Starling, Thea? You fought with him? You destroyed the Scarlet Tower with him?'

‘Something like that…' Thea said with a smile, watching the awe spread on both her friends' faces.

‘I can't believe he's here,' Cal breathed. ‘That we met him. One of the great legends of Thezmarr right in our midst…'

‘I think someone has a crush,' Kipp said sweetly.

‘Oh, fuck off, you were just as starstruck.'

‘I was nothing but professional.'

Cal snorted. ‘Horseshit. You were on about how many trophies and banners feature his name back at the fortress. You were gushing about all the reasons he was called the Prince of Hearts.'

‘I don't know what you're talking about.'

Thea couldn't help but laugh, savouring their company, their banter. For a brief pocket of time, it was as though there wasn't a war on their doorstep. They could have been anywhere in the midrealms, joking around.

‘Have we got to the main course story yet?' Thea prompted, almost pitying Cal as the tips of his ears went bright red.

Kipp's face lit up. ‘Well, it happened shortly after you left for the Rite,' he began eagerly.

Cal groaned. ‘Please, Kipp… Can't I just have this one thing?'

Kipp made a show of looking appalled. ‘You want to keep secrets from our best friend? A Warsword of the midrealms, a princess of Delmira?'

Cal buried his face in his hands.

That was all the permission Kipp needed. He turned to Thea, beaming. ‘Naturally, we were all concerned about your safety and wellbeing,' he assured her. ‘And in times of need —'

‘You got roaring drunk?' she guessed, unable to keep the smile from her voice.

‘Me?' Kipp blinked. ‘Never. But you know Callahan the Flaming Arrow can't handle his liquor on the best of days. And my dear Thea… This was not the best of days. Not for Cal, anyway.'

‘Furies save me,' Cal muttered, his face matching his ears now.

Thea was already shaking her head, imagining all sorts of trouble the pair could have found themselves in. ‘What happened?'

‘We were at the Singing Hare, and someone mentioned that a few doors down was a man who was something of an artist… A tattoo artist.'

Thea's gaze shot to Cal, but her friend refused to look at her.

‘Someone,' Kipp said pointedly, ‘got it in their head that they'd very much like a tattoo… Something like the Warswords have, wasn't that what you said?'

‘Fuck off, Kipp.'

Thea laughed. ‘I didn't know Torj had tattoos…'

Kipp nodded sagely. ‘Oh yes, very impressive, very masculine pieces… Cal described them in titillating detail to the artist.'

‘Well, come on,' Thea urged. ‘Show me what you got.'

‘No,' Cal ground out.

‘Where did you get it?' Thea pressed.

‘An excellent question,' Kipp declared. ‘As is: what did he get?'

‘Kipp,' Cal warned, his voice low.

But Kipp darted forward, wrestling Cal to the ground with surprising strength and, to Thea's horror, dragging the back of Cal's pants down, enough to expose a pale cheek.

A small shape marred the skin there, and upon closer inspection, Thea tipped her head back, suddenly unable to breathe for the hilarity of it. She clutched her stomach, tears streaming down her face as she wheezed.

‘Tell me that's not a —'

‘Laughing Fox?' Kipp finished for her, grinning. ‘I'm afraid so.'

‘Fuck you, Kipp,' Cal growled, trying to wriggle away from their friend, who still had him pinned to the floor. ‘I know you're to blame for it. You were there, whispering in —'

‘I had nothing to do with it!' Kipp said, but the gleam in his eyes said otherwise.

‘Thea —' Wren's voice sounded from the door, before she stopped in her tracks, her eyes going straight to Cal's bare backside. ‘What in the midrealms are you doing?' she gaped.

Kipp shoved Cal away. ‘Put your arse away, Callahan, there's a princess present,' he said, turning to Thea's sister. ‘Elwren, you look as lovely as ever.'

Wren glanced at Thea with a look of disbelief.

‘Don't ask,' Thea told her, getting to her feet. ‘What is it?'

‘They asked me to come get you,' Wren replied, still looking baffled at the Guardians who were straightening their clothes and expressions. ‘The allies' meeting is starting early.' She slid a small silver tin onto the chest of drawers. ‘And this is the salve I promised. Use it twice a day for a week and the pain should subside.'

Thea ignored her friends' questioning looks and pocketed the tin, her scarred wrist aching at the mention. ‘Thank you.'

Instead of taking them to the Scholar's Lounge like Thea expected, Wren took them to a formal dining room. A long mahogany table ran the length of the space, lined with high-backed chairs. Talemir sat at the head, with Drue on his left and Malik on his right. Mal was braiding a strip of leather between his huge fingers, with Dax curled up a few feet away. Dratos, Anya and Adrienne lined Drue's other side, while Audra sat next to Malik and Farissa, Thezmarr's alchemy master, took the place at her right.

Wren strode forward and sat beside her mentor, and Cal and Kipp followed her, taking their places as well.

Where's Wilder?Thea wondered, scanning the room for his handsome face. Where had he gone so early in the morning without so much as a word to her? Was he alright? It had only been a few nights since his rescue from the Scarlet Tower, and she knew his sleep had been fractured, plagued by nightmares —

A scraping noise sounded as Adrienne pushed back the empty chair beside her. ‘Here, Thea,' she offered.

Thea took a breath, grounding herself in the here and now before she went to Adrienne, accepting the seat. As she looked around, goosebumps rushed across her skin at the familiar faces that met her gaze. Friends and family, new and old – each and every one of them meant something to her now. They had all come together again, but it was a far cry from the drunken, crowded room at the Singing Hare. This was so much more formal, more sombre… It suddenly felt so real. They were here in Naarva to plan battles. The decisions they made here would impact countless lives, would end just as many…

A steaming mug was placed in front of her, tendrils of peppermint wafting up to her nose, as Wilder took up the empty chair beside her.

‘Shall we begin?' he said, placing his scabbards on the table and leaning back in his seat.

At the head of the table, Talemir bowed his head. ‘The first order of business is the consequences of what Thea and I did to the Scarlet Tower,' he said, with an apologetic glance in Thea's direction.

‘I knew there would be consequences,' she replied. ‘Do you know what they are yet?'

Talemir nodded gravely. ‘King Artos declared that you're not only a fallen Warsword, but the lost heir of Delmira, come to finish what your parents started all those years ago…' He looked to Wren, who dug through her pockets and produced two crumpled pieces of parchment.

‘After your little lightning display at the tower, they put a price on both our heads.' She passed Thea the yellowed flyers.

Wanted. Elwren Embervale (previously known as Zoltaire). Alleged storm wielder and heir of Delmira. Wanted dead or alive, in association with the Daughter of Darkness.

‘Where did you get these?' Thea turned to the second sketch, where her own likeness stared back at her, a similar message scrawled beneath it:

Wanted. Althea Embervale (previously known as Zoltaire). Fallen Warsword. Alleged storm wielder and firstborn heir of Delmira. Wanted dead or alive for: treason, the destruction of the Scarlet Tower, aiding and abetting a known criminal, murder, unnamed crimes against the midrealms, association with the Daughter of Darkness.

‘That's quite a list,' Wilder murmured beside her.

‘Don't be put out,' Dratos interjected, sliding another poster across the table. ‘There's one for the Hand of Death, too.'

Thea turned the parchment over and met the vicious gaze of Wilder Hawthorne, his features drawn far sharper and more unforgiving than the true lines of his face.

‘They were a tad unkind about his nose,' Wren pointed out helpfully.

Thea held out the drawing for Wilder to see and a laugh bubbled from his lips. ‘Only a tad?'

Shaking her head, Thea turned back to Talemir. ‘What does this mean?'

‘Thezmarr's resources are dead to you,' he replied. ‘The remaining rulers won't ally with you. You're a known heir of a kingdom that fell to darkness. Your word means nothing.'

‘Wonderful,' Thea muttered.

‘But there are fewer rulers than there were yesterday,' Talemir continued. ‘King Leiko of Tver has bent the knee to Artos.'

Thea's gaze shot up. ‘What?'

She wasn't the only one shocked. Several gasps sounded from around the table.

‘Has Artos declared himself for the reapers, then?' Wilder asked.

Talemir shook his head. ‘Not yet. The official word is that after the battle of Notos, Tver was weakened, to the point where Artos has been carrying the kingdom with his own resources and rebuilding efforts. Leiko's statement outlined all this, and how Tver would prosper under Artos' rule, as Harenth has.'

‘The fool,' Audra scoffed. ‘Aveum will be next… It's already teetering on the edge of collapse, with Queen Reyna confined to her rooms, bereft with grief. We must convince her to fight. Artos will be on her doorstep before long.'

‘Can we assassinate Artos?' Drue asked. ‘Cut off the head of the snake before the war begins?' She looked around. ‘Have we tried?'

‘Countless times,' Adrienne replied, cracking her knuckles. ‘He's guarded too closely. His empath magic seems to sense anyone with ill will towards him. He's rooted out several of our best spies, and spiked their heads to his gates.'

Thea shuddered. Harenth had seemed so beautiful when she'd visited. It was hard to imagine severed heads adorning its walls.

‘So it will definitely come to open battle,' Wilder said.

‘Unfortunately,' Talemir conceded.

‘How firm is Artos' hold over Thezmarr?' Audra asked. ‘Will the Guardians rally to defend the midrealms?'

‘It depends who makes the call,' Kipp said thoughtfully. ‘Thea and Wilder are fugitives. No one will answer to a shadow-touched Warsword.' He gave Talemir an apologetic glance. ‘Vernich is widely hated across the lands… It would have to be Torj the Golden Bear Slayer, and Esyllt the loyal weapons master, if we can find him. If they can convince the shieldbearers and Guardians of Thezmarr to fight against Artos, we might have a chance.'

A beat of silence followed as the company read between the lines of their strategist's words. Their chances were slim. They always had been. They needed to unite people from all walks of life, all different backgrounds, with all the prejudices that came with them, in order to defeat their common enemy. An enemy that most of the common folk didn't even know of yet.

It was Wilder who spoke next. ‘We need to be mindful of where we place Warswords on the chessboard,' he said slowly, clenching his fists before him. ‘Including Tal and Thea, there are five of us now, and whether we're declared fallen or not is irrelevant to Artos and the reapers' plans. In the tower…'

He trailed off for a moment, and quiet settled over the room.

Thea slid her hand beneath the table, resting her palm on his thigh, feeling the muscles tense there. She heard him exhale before he spoke again.

‘In the tower, they had plans to make a monster out of me. Something beyond shadow-touched, something to wield against the world… "A general of darkness in Artos' growing forces", the Archmage there said. Though the tower is gone, it won't have been their only site for such experiments. We need to be prepared that they'll want to capture some of us alive. That they'll sacrifice a good many of their own forces to do so.'

‘What are you saying, Hawthorne?' Dratos demanded.

‘Well, for one, that we need a measure in place so that if we're taken, we can ensure we're not taken alive.' He gave Wren a pointed glance. ‘I'm sure you and Farissa can come up with something for us?'

A bitter taste filled Thea's mouth as she realised what Wilder was asking of her sister, of all of them.

But Talemir gave a stiff nod. ‘A precaution,' he added.

‘We need to alert Torj and the Bloodletter,' Anya cut in. ‘If there's a hunt for Warswords, they need to be on their guard.'

‘A Warsword is always on their guard,' Wilder said gruffly.

‘And yet you wound up in chains in that tower all the same,' Anya replied.

Wilder's leg jolted beneath Thea's touch, but he fixed her older sister with a flat stare. ‘It was the best of a bunch of bad options. Which brings me to my next point… They made their intentions for Warswords clear enough, but I imagine they have a similar stance on magic wielders. If they get their talons in you, Wren or Thea, we're equally as fucked.'

‘That's not going to happen.'

Wilder folded his arms over his broad chest. ‘Saying it doesn't make it so.'

Thea didn't miss the muscle twitching in Anya's jaw.

‘Do we know Vernich's position in all this?' Talemir asked.

‘He helped us defeat the arachne in Aveum,' Cal replied.

‘That means fuck all,' Dratos growled.

Talemir looked to Wilder and Thea. ‘What do you think?'

‘I suspected he was a fallen Warsword for the better part of a year,' Thea admitted. ‘But now… I don't know.'

Wilder's hand found hers beneath the table and he squeezed her fingers gently. ‘My gut tells me that if Artos openly aligns himself with the reapers, Vernich will fall to our side. He's a bastard through and through, always has been. But he takes his Warsword vows as seriously as any one of us. He'd defend the midrealms to his death. I've seen it.'

Thea's stomach bottomed out as she recalled fighting at the Bloodletter's side in Notos, how he'd had her back when they'd thought Wilder had betrayed them all…

‘Perhaps you're right,' she murmured.

‘Then we send word with Terrence,' Talemir declared. ‘To both Torj and Vernich.'

‘Tal,' Drue said. ‘Terrence isn't enough. Someone will have to go.'

The shadow-touched Warsword nodded. ‘I'll go —'

‘We'll send someone else. You're needed here,' Drue objected. ‘You need to get the forces in shape, introduce them to the others. They'll need to know who commands them before long —'

A loud crash sounded and every warrior in the room was on their feet in an instant, swords unsheathed – but it was little Ryland who charged into the room with a wide grin on his face, his grandfather Fendran racing after him.

‘For fuck's sake,' Drue muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose as Ryland successfully dodged his grandfather's attempts at capture and knocked over several empty chairs in the process.

‘Draw!' the boy shouted excitedly, waving a piece of crumpled parchment. ‘Ry draw!'

‘You drew something?' Talemir asked, watching with amusement as his son made a beeline not for him, but for Wilder.

Thea couldn't help the laugh that bubbled from her lips as the adorable little boy climbed up Wilder's legs as though he were a tree and waved a piece of parchment in his face.

Baffled, Wilder took the outstretched artwork. Thea smiled. Ryland had drawn three rudimentary figures. It was easy enough to identify Malik – the giant stick figure with what she assumed was a dog at his feet. Next to him was Talemir, his misshapen wings extended across the width of the page.

The Shadow Prince rose from his chair and peered over Wilder's shoulder, pointing to the third figure. ‘I believe that's you.'

‘Me?' Wilder frowned, but Thea could see the emotion lining his silver eyes.

‘We've told him stories about you his whole life,' Talemir explained. ‘He's always known who you are.'

With a huff of amusement, Wilder studied the drawing. ‘What sort of stories have you been telling him? He seems to think very… highly… of me.'

Thea leant across and followed his gaze to the enormous appendage attached to Wilder's supposed likeness.

Behind them, Talemir barked a laugh. ‘That's your sword.'

Thea gave Wilder a wink. ‘I'll say.'

‘Didn't need to know that,' Talemir said with a snort before hauling his son off Wilder, perching him on his hip.

‘Are we done here?' Audra said sharply.

The lighthearted moment passed all too quickly, and Thea suddenly felt restless herself. ‘What now, then?' she asked.

Drue rose from her chair. ‘Now, we introduce you to our armies.'