Epilogue

Three months later

The Laughing Fox tavern was just as full as it had been before the war, and just as raucous, if not more so. A musician played the lute on the small stage at the far end, filling the room with an array of slightly off-key melodies, accompanied by the bawdy singing of patrons. The rich scent of the tavern's famous roast boar wafted from the kitchens, along with the malty aroma of spilt ale.

The dartboard and billiards table were occupied, as were all the booths and tables Thea could see. The bar at the centre of the vast room had a line three people deep all around it.

‘Good to know some things don't change,' Wilder murmured in her ear with a note of amusement.

Thea smiled at that as she watched a trio of friends dance arm in arm, nearly knocking over a tray of drinks with their enthusiasm. The warm, inviting atmosphere of the Fox wrapped around her like a blanket, and she realised why Kipp came back time and time again. Even when she was on official guild business, there was a comfort here. Not to mention the place was home to some of her fondest memories.

But as the door swung closed behind Thea and Wilder, the hair on the nape of her neck stood up, her skin prickling as the room fell silent. Her hand drifted to the pommel of her sword and Wilder tensed beside her, poised for a fight.

The letter had come from Audra, so Thea didn't know who to look out for in the crowd – perhaps Esyllt, or one of the women commanders —

Suddenly, a warm hand clapped her on the back. ‘Albert! A round for the returning Warswords!' a familiar voice shouted, the tavern roaring back to life around them.

Tears pricked Thea's eyes as she took in the floppy auburn hair and the long arm waving about as orders were doled out.

‘And who's paying for it this time, lad?' Albert grunted.

Thea's face split into a wide grin as Kipp had the gall to look offended, before he turned to a nearby group of patrons. ‘Who wants the honour of buying these heroes a drink?'

Thea caught Wilder's eye across the group of men who spilt forth to do exactly that, offering them the three-fingered salute to their shoulders. Her Warsword simply shook his head and muttered something that sounded a lot like, ‘Son of the fucking Fox…'

Kipp enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug, nearly lifting her clean off her feet. ‘Ah, it's good to see you,' he said. ‘Both of you.'

Thea's chest felt fit to burst and she squeezed her friend back, hard. ‘I can't believe you're here. I've missed you.'

Kipp offered Wilder a grin before swiping their tray of foaming tankards from the bar and making his way towards the booths at the back. While his lanky frame had filled out a little over the last few months, Thea's heart warmed to realise that the rest of him hadn't changed a bit, evident in the wink he aimed at a nearby serving girl.

‘What is this mission from Thezmarr, then?' Wilder asked.

But Kipp waved a finger in reprimand. ‘All work and no play makes Warswords incredibly dull, Hawthorne.'

When they reached the booth, Thea let out a cry of surprise, her hand flying to her mouth. For there was Cal, with a broad smile, and as he stood to hug her, a jolt of shock shot through her. She grabbed him, holding him at arm's length to survey him. His hair was shorter, his shoulders were broader, but that wasn't it…

Iron gleamed at his right bicep. Thea gaped.

‘You did the Great Rite?' she all but yelled. ‘You're a fucking Warsword?'

Cal beamed and wrestled her into a hug. ‘Couldn't let you have all the glory forever, could I?'

Thea could hardly contain her excitement. ‘When did this happen? Where? How? Where's your sword?'

‘At least pass the drinks around before I have to listen to that saga again,' said another familiar voice.

Torj Elderbrock strode up to their booth, fresh tankards of ale in hand. He seemed larger than life all of a sudden, his silver hair tied back in a knot, his dark blue eyes sparkling.

Queen Reyna's words came back to her then: I have seen that gold will turn to silver in a blaze of iron and embers…

The winter queen had foreseen the Bear Slayer's fate.

The man himself gave Thea a smile. ‘Glad you're back.' Then he looked to Wilder and offered his large hand.

To Thea's – and apparently Torj's – surprise, Wilder laughed and batted it away, embracing his fellow Warsword like a long-lost brother. ‘Good to see you're still keeping such entertaining company.'

‘We're not all bad.'

A head of bronze hair and a pair of celadon eyes appeared at the booth's edge, and a gasp escaped Thea as Wren smiled back at her.

‘If it isn't Althea Nine Lives,' her sister said, hauling her into a hug.

It had been a long three months since they'd seen one another, and Wren was more beautiful than she'd ever been. Thea had always deemed her younger sister the prettier of the pair, but now… Something about her had changed, had amplified her beauty in a way that Thea couldn't quite pinpoint —

‘For Furies' sake,' Kipp whined. ‘Can we please have a drink? You can do just as much gushing over one another sitting down with a tankard of mead in your hand.'

Still reeling from the shock of the reunion, Thea couldn't help but laugh as she slid into the booth after Wilder, Wren taking the place on her other side. Kipp, Cal and Torj took the opposite bench, looking a tad ridiculous all crammed in together, particularly with the enormous silver-haired Bear Slayer on the end. But Kipp's joy was infectious, as always. Eagerly handing out the tankards, he pulled the fullest one in front of himself and looked around.

‘How about a toast?'

A collective groan sounded around the table as Kipp got to his feet and cleared his throat.

‘May you walk amid the gardens of the afterlife a whole half hour —'

‘Before Enovius reads your ledger of deeds,' Thea and Cal finished, knocking their tankards against their friend's, laughing.

It wasn't long before Kipp ordered another round of drinks, and another, and another, each time somehow managing to find some unsuspecting patron to foot the bill. Thea sat back against the cushion, her cheeks aching from smiling so hard. Cal was a Warsword. Kipp was as brazen and ridiculous as ever. Wren had left her poisons and potions, and was joking with the others as though she were one of them. Torj was in one piece, the corner of his mouth twitching as he not-so-subtly watched Wren.

And Wilder… Wilder's hand covered Thea's beneath the table, his dimple deep in his cheek as he laughed with the others.

There was much to catch up on, and Thea drank in the news of Thezmarr like a parched vagabond. Audra and Esyllt had overseen the rebuilding of the fortress and had opened its gates to shieldbearers once more – all were welcome. Malik had helped them rebuild the library, and when Torj had left Thezmarr just a few days ago, he'd been happily braiding belts before the hearth with Dax at his feet. True to his word, Vernich had indeed retired and now lived in a fishing village no one had ever heard of, catching trout by day, drinking fire extract by night.

No one had heard from Dratos since the final battle, and Adrienne had returned to Naarva to search for him.

Wren was in the middle of telling Thea how Farissa had sent her to retrieve some rare plants for a new experiment when Kipp gave a dramatic gasp and grabbed Wilder's arm.

‘Remember that favour you owe me?' he asked, his gaze locked on something across the room.

‘Yes…' Wilder replied tentatively.

‘I'm calling it in.'

‘Now?'

‘Now,' Kipp said urgently. ‘See that golden-haired beauty over there? She's been eyeing you up all night. Introduce me.'

Wilder groaned. ‘That's what you want to use a Warsword favour on?'

‘I know a lot of Warswords now.' Kipp shrugged before puffing out his chest. ‘And a little less judgement would be appreciated.'

Wilder barked a laugh. ‘Very well, then.'

Thea and Wren had to get out of the booth to let Wilder pass, Thea appreciating his powerful form as he moved across the room to the blonde. She felt a brief stab of pity for the woman as her gaze grew hopeful at the Warsword's approach, Kipp close on his heels.

‘You're Wilder Hawthorne,' she said in awe.

Wilder scraped the loose hair back from his forehead and pushed Kipp forward. ‘And this is my friend, Kristopher Snowden.'

‘Good friend.' The strategist sidled up to her. ‘But you can call me Kipp,' he added with a charming grin.

The woman seemed confused. ‘Are you a Warsword as well?'

‘Furies save me, no,' Kipp replied. ‘I am, however, the mastermind behind everything they do. Isn't that right, Hawthorne?'

Wilder rolled his eyes at Thea before turning back to Kipp and his new companion with a nod. ‘Would have lost the war without him.'

The woman put a hand to her chest in shock. ‘Truly?'

‘Truly,' Kipp replied solemnly. ‘Now tell me, have you had the sour mead here?'

Thea had to bite her fist to keep from laughing as Wilder returned to the table with a look of utter bafflement.

‘I'd say you get used to it,' Cal offered with a grimace, ‘but you never do.'

Chuckling, Wilder picked up his tankard of ale. ‘Easiest favour I've ever given.'

‘I'd watch out. He racks them up quicker than you think…'

But Thea's attention was pulled elsewhere. To the empty seat beside her. And the empty seat opposite it.

‘Where's Wren?' she said suddenly. ‘And Torj?'

Both Wilder and Cal looked stunned, their eyes falling to the empty spaces in the booth.

‘No idea…' Cal replied at last, though his gaze flicked towards a door at the far end of the tavern.

After a moment, Thea refilled their tankards and rested her elbows on the table. ‘Tell us, how are you finding Warsword life, Callahan the Flaming Arrow?'

They talked late into the night, Cal regaling them with stories of his work for the guild since earning his Naarvian steel.

‘That reminds me,' he said, pulling a scrap of parchment from his pocket. ‘Audra asked me to give this to you – both of you.'

Wilder took it as Cal stood – or tried to, several times, before actually managing it.

‘Goodnight, friends,' he slurred happily before giving a Kipp-like bow and tottering off into the crowd.

‘What is it?' Thea asked, nodding to the letter.

Wilder scanned it, his brow furrowing in concentration. ‘Audra's given us a suspected location for a small group of wraiths…'

A smile tugged at Thea's lips. ‘Is that so?'

‘It is.' Wilder's silver gaze was bright.

‘And?' she asked.

He hummed, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck and lifting her face to his. The rest of the tavern faded away as he kissed her deeply, thoroughly, as though they had all the time in the world. Now, after everything they had been through, perhaps they did.

As Thea's toes curled in her boots, he broke away abruptly.

‘That depends on your answer to my question,' he teased.

‘What question might that be?'

‘Althea Embervale,' Wilder said, cupping her hands in his, staring deep into her eyes with nothing but love.

She drew a trembling breath, unsure of what would come next.

Wilder's answering smile was wicked. ‘Will you hunt shadow wraiths with me?'

A laugh burst from Thea's lips, a broad grin spreading across her face as her heart soared. ‘I thought you'd never ask.'

Not ready to leave this world? You heard it here first: you won't have to.

"Gold will turn to silver in a blaze of iron and embers, giving rise to ancient power long forgotten…"

Pre-order Iron Embers, the first book in The Ashes of Thezmarr — a brand new fantasy romance series, set in the Thezmarr world.

And if you didn't already know, there's a prequel to The Legends of Thezmarr out now! Slaying the Shadow Prince is a standalone fantasy romance featuring Wilder's mentor, Talemir Starling. It takes place before Blood Steel and features a younger Wilder Hawthorne ;)