Chapter Fifteen

Wilder had vastly underestimated Talemir and Drue's preparations. It was hard to believe that just outside the main university walls lay a camp like this: an army of shadow-touched folk who bore the evidence of Talemir's discipline in the neat lines of their tents and the condition of their weapons. Judging by the ruts in the earth and the rhythm of the place, Talemir's men – and women, Wilder noted – had been here for some time.

‘How's that armour feel?' Tal asked, with a nod at the boiled leather breastplate he'd given Wilder that morning.

‘Fine,' Wilder replied. ‘Better than my last set.'

Talemir baulked. ‘You were still wearing that? It was a pile of shit to begin with.'

‘I know. Managed to slay as many monsters as you though,' Wilder quipped.

Tal snorted. ‘If you say so, Apprentice.'

Wilder felt Thea's eyes on him during this exchange, as though she were drinking in their camaraderie, her expression subtly pleased.

It made him smile, for a time.

As Talemir led Wilder and Thea between the tents, there was no missing the suspicious glances shot their way. Wilder wondered how many knew or recognised him as the wayward apprentice who had abandoned their Shadow Prince long ago.

‘Don't take it personally,' Talemir said, spotting where Wilder's attention had strayed. ‘They don't trust outsiders – usually with good reason. It's why I wanted everyone gathered here first, to build some semblance of trust between our leaders and units.'

‘Seems like a tall order,' Thea ventured, with a sceptical scan of the campground. All around, shadow-touched folk were watching their every move, some making a point to grasp their weapons, their bodies poised in readiness, as though Wilder and Thea meant to attack their beloved leader right in front of them.

‘We're all going to lead units of our own,' Talemir continued, as though they weren't facing a significant hurdle. ‘I can't lead them from every flank. Thea, Drue reserved a special unit for you. On the north-east side of camp, you'll find them waiting for you.'

Thea raised a brow. ‘Consider me intrigued, Shadow Prince.'

Wilder watched her go with a pang of regret. It had only been a matter of days since their reunion, and already this war was robbing them of their limited time together. He felt the urgency in the very marrow of his bones, and could almost hear the grains of sand falling through the hourglass. Fate. Destiny. Despair. All entwined.

‘Wilder?' Talemir's voice wrenched him back into the present.

‘What?'

‘I was saying that we'll need to take the new recruits through the basic drills, the same as the ones we did in Naarva all those years ago.'

‘Are any of them born fighters?' he asked, scanning those who were bold enough to meet his gaze.

Talemir sighed. ‘Some. We've got civilians who heard about Drue and Adrienne and became rangers after Ciraun fell. There are a handful who were once soldiers. But most were commoners who fell victim to the wraiths in the same way I did, same as Dratos and Gus… Their advantage is their magic. We just need to give them an edge with a blade.'

‘I've made warriors out of less,' Wilder said.

Talemir scoffed. ‘Recently? Because to me it looks like the Furies gifted you a ready-made storm-wielding Warsword.'

Wilder followed his former mentor's gaze across the sea of canvas tents to the north-east corner, where Thea stood at the head of an all-women force with Drue. She was magnificent. Her braid caught in the wind, dancing behind her as she held out her blade and demonstrated a number of manoeuvres he'd taught her. Only she'd tweaked them. They were no longer just his techniques, but moves she had perfected to suit her own unique fighting style and her own strengths. She whirled and parried against an imaginary opponent, thrusting her sword, blocking would-be blows and delivering swift justice with a precise slash of her steel.

A round of applause echoed across the camp as she finished her demonstration with a flourish.

‘I'm not sure you'll win as many hearts so easily,' Talemir said with a note of amusement.

‘We'll get there,' Wilder replied. ‘I managed to win her heart, after all.'

‘Beats me how,' Talemir quipped, his gaze trained on Drue, who was handing out practice blades to the women warriors.

Wilder realised that he and Talemir had stopped completely in their tracks to watch, and they weren't the only ones. Plenty of shadow-touched soldiers from all over the camp had paused whatever menial task they were carrying out, elbowing each other as Drue invited Thea to spar.

‘They don't waste time, do they?' Talemir mused, his voice rich with pride.

Around them, banners fluttered like restless spirits and the scent of burning wood hung heavy in the air as the two women circled each other amid the gathering crowd of eager onlookers.

Thea flicked her braid over her shoulder and gave Drue a wolfish grin before raising her blade in salute. Drue answered with a grin of her own, and lunged.

The clash of steel rang out, a familiar song of battle, as Drue's blade, swift as the wind, met Thea's with a resounding clang. The metallic ring of swords permeated the air, mingling with the camp scent of sweat and ash from the fires.

Wilder's chest swelled as he watched Thea. Her movements were a fluid poetry, her blade an extension of herself, striking with precision and grace… and yet he could tell she was holding back. There was no storm magic in the air, nor even a hint of that Furies-given power he knew flowed through Thea now. No, she was fighting with the abilities she'd honed over the years and nothing more.

Drue countered with significant strength, her strikes a testament to her own years of training and extra tutelage under Talemir, but she was no match for Thea, not truly. The gathered throng held its breath, seeming to revel in the rush of wind as swords sliced through the air, the tang of anticipation heavy around them. Sparks flew like fiery stars, and Wilder watched as the women in the audience became rapt, mesmerised by the warriors in their midst who looked like them, who had become legends in their own right.

‘You taught her well,' Talemir said.

‘It's all her,' Wilder replied without hesitation. He might have helped shape the Warsword before them, but she'd been a warrior all along.

‘Well then, your work is cut out for you with your unit…' Talemir nudged him. ‘We can't let the women have all the glory. Follow me.'

Talemir led him to a unit of thirty shadow-touched men of varying ages. Some were teenagers like Gus, others older than Drue's father Fendran. It didn't bode well.

Talemir put his fingers between his teeth and whistled to get their attention. ‘Everyone, this is your commander for the battles ahead, Wilder Hawthorne.'

Wilder heard the intake of breath, noted several men shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, and even a sneer or two in the back. He clenched his jaw. Once, the mere mention of his name demanded respect, had men clamouring to be taught a single manoeuvre by him. But now…

‘Isn't he the fallen Warsword?' said a nasal voice from the group. ‘The one who killed a bunch of shadow-touched —'

Talemir silenced him with a single look. ‘Wilder Hawthorne is one of the most formidable warriors in the history of the midrealms,' he said coolly. ‘He's here to make men out of you, if you've got the stomach for it.' He glanced at Wilder. ‘They're all yours until sundown.'

‘I'm not making any promises,' Wilder grunted, surveying what he had to work with.

Talemir moved on to another unit, leaving Wilder with the unruly crew of shadow-touched. He turned to them, giving them a cold, hard look he usually reserved for the most hopeless shieldbearers.

‘We're doing laps,' he said. ‘Let's find out what you're made of.'

Wilder drilled his shadow-touched unit all afternoon. They were unfit and undisciplined, but not completely beyond help, though he was no more popular by the end of the day than he had been at the start. Which was fine with him; he wasn't there to make friends. He was there to make soldiers.

What he didn't admit was how he himself felt the burn of the exercises more keenly after his stint in the Scarlet Tower, how his brow broke into a sweat far sooner than it should have. When the day was done, he felt wrung out, but he hid it well – or so he thought, until Thea took one look at him in the quadrangle and grimaced.

‘That bad, huh?' he asked casually, walking over to her and trying not to limp as the stiffness took hold of his muscles.

Thea was sprawled on a bench beneath an ivy-covered archway, wearing a loose shirt and pants, her armour stacked beside her, her feet bare. A notebook was clutched tightly between her hands, as though it were something precious.

Making room for him, she tucked her feet up beneath her and kissed him as he sat down, hiding his wince.

‘You're exactly how I like you,' she said with a mischievous grin. ‘Rugged and dirty.'

‘Is that right?'

‘Absolutely,' she said with another kiss.

Wilder tried to take the notebook from her hands. ‘What have you been scribbling away at?'

Her grip tightened on the pages. ‘Nothing,' she replied, tucking the notebook under her pile of armour and rummaging through the rest of her things. ‘Anya gave me my pack back and I realised I've got something of yours…'

To his surprise, Thea produced the sapphire necklace he'd kept stuffed away in his cabin since his last visit to Naarva. Slightly bewildered, he took it from her and stared at the blue gem as it twinkled in the sunlight.

‘Thought you might want it back, or that maybe you should give it back to Adrienne…'

The furrow in Wilder's brow deepened. ‘Adrienne?'

‘Oh.' Thea flushed. ‘I just assumed it was hers… From before. It's fine, I just —'

Wilder couldn't help the broad grin that broke across his face. ‘You mean all this time you thought I was carrying around a jewel that belonged to a former —'

‘I didn't know what to think!'

Wilder laughed. ‘Thea, this belonged to Talemir's mother.'

Thea's blush deepened further. ‘Oh.'

Shaking his head and still chuckling, Wilder pocketed the sapphire. ‘Apparently she gave it to him when they had to part, and told him that "Sometimes, to love someone, we have to let them go". He then gave it to me when I left him in Naarva, angry at him and raging at the world. Suppose I'd better give it back after all these years. Unless you'd like to keep it?'

‘Not really my style, Warsword.'

‘I didn't think so.'

‘You probably should give it back,' Thea said, her cheeks still tipped pink.

Wilder loved her even more in that moment, and moved to wrap his arm around her, but this time, he couldn't hide his grimace of pain.

Thea perched herself behind him on the back of the bench, hands finding his shoulders and beginning to knead the tense muscles there. Wilder moaned, the sensation of instant relaxation sweeping over him as she worked through his knotted upper back.

‘I do like coaxing those noises out of you,' Thea murmured in his ear, digging her thumbs right into a tender spot that needed loosening.

Wilder closed his eyes, savouring the relief her touch offered. She seemed to know exactly from where each hurt stemmed, her strong fingers rubbing firm circles through all of his aches.

As a good kind of pain bloomed through his shoulders and down his spine, he started to decompress from the day, from the pressure he'd forced onto himself as he'd trained his unit into a similar state of exhaustion. He knew it wasn't just the lack of movement in the tower's cells that had him struggling – it was the drugs they'd misted over him time and time again; it was the lack of nourishment and water. It was everything.

‘Fuck,' he muttered, raking his fingers through his hair as Thea continued the massage. Her hands moved over his back expertly, like she knew every dip and hollow, every tightly coiled cluster of muscles.

‘It's going to be alright,' she said quietly.

How can it be?Wilder wanted to ask her, so badly that the words were burning on the tip of his tongue. But he bit them back. She had rescued him from those horrors, mere days after facing her own nightmares in the Rite – things that still plagued her dreams now – and yet here she was, comforting him. How had he faced so much in his life, only to come undone now?

Wilder didn't reply. Instead, he looped his arms behind him, wrapping them around the backs of her legs, pulling her close to him. All the while, her fingers worked the tension from his muscles as they looked out onto the quiet courtyard, where ivy and midnight roses rustled in the cool breeze.

Moments later, Dratos came jogging towards them from the main building, his wings tucked tightly behind him. ‘You seen Ry?' he called.

‘Not since this morning,' Thea replied.

Wilder shook his head when the shadow-touched ranger reached them.

‘Shit,' Dratos replied. ‘Tal and Drue can't find him. No one's seen him…' There was no mistaking the note of panic in his voice.

Thea gave Wilder's shoulders a firm squeeze before reaching for her boots. ‘We'll help you look.'

Wilder launched himself onto his feet. ‘Where have you looked so far? Does he have any favourite hiding spots?' He could only imagine the sheer terror gripping Talemir and Drue. They were both seasoned warriors, but a missing child was a different kind of fear altogether.

‘All checked,' Dratos told them with a grimace.

Thea finished with her laces and faced Dratos, a determined gleam in her eyes. ‘We'll find him.'

Dratos nodded stiffly. ‘We've searched the entire building from top to bottom,' he said. ‘Though a fresh set of eyes might be all we —'

A bone-rattling explosion sounded, shattering the tranquillity of the quadrangle in one fell swoop. It seemed to emerge from the very depths of the underworld, a thunderous blast that echoed through the air.

Wilder had his swords unsheathed in seconds as a deep, resonant tremor coursed through the ground beneath their feet, reverberating in the sandstone all around them, shaking the very foundations of the university.

‘What the fuck…?' he muttered, glancing at Dratos. The air around them pulsed with the aftershocks, and the leaves of the nearby oak tree shivered.

Thea was already slipping her armour back on, tightening its ties with steady, efficient fingers. Then her blades were out as well, and she was scanning the skies. Wilder followed her gaze and cursed under his breath as he saw what she'd already spotted.

Fault lines now appeared in Talemir's shadow shield around the university. Its protection was straining against whatever impact lay beyond it. A barrier forged with darkness now fought against its like. Dread bloomed in Wilder's gut as flakes of shadow fell from the sky towards them.

‘We're under attack,' he said, turning to Dratos. ‘What's the protocol?'

All three of them recoiled as another rumbling barrage of sound clapped overhead, and a quake gripped the earth beneath their boots. Loose stone fell from the walls around them and the telltale scent of burnt hair filled the air.

The wraiths were coming.

‘To the fields,' Dratos shouted, bursting into a run. ‘We have to protect them at all costs.'

Wilder sprang into action, his pain and exhaustion long forgotten in the face of such peril. If the fields of sun orchids were compromised, the war would be lost before it truly began.

Thea sprinted at his side, her blades swinging in her hands as they cut through the university grounds and made straight for the crops. ‘Do you think they have Ryland?' she asked.

‘Furies save us all if they do,' Dratos replied.

Heart pounding, Wilder crested a ridge and reached the field of sun orchids first – just in time to see onyx power exploding as three shadow wraiths breached Talemir's shield.