Chapter Nine

As they travelled with shadow magic for the second time in as many hours, Wilder realised he liked it less each time. He'd take a month-long journey by horse any day. Cloaked in darkness with the wind rushing around him, he felt nauseous, his eyes streaming and his stomach plummeting. Nor did he enjoy such close proximity to Dratos, not when he'd been just about to slide into Thea.

‘Prick,' he muttered.

He heard Dratos' chuckle echo in the wind.

Wilder didn't know how long they flew, but he soon felt his ears pop, as though he'd dived too far below water. They'd passed through some sort of magical shield – Tal's magic, he realised, not for the first time. How powerful had his former mentor become over the years? How deep did that well of shadow magic run?

At last, his boots hit solid ground and the shadows dissipated. Wilder shielded his eyes against the unexpected light, golden like the sun, a foreign entity in these parts. When his vision adjusted, he stared.

They had landed in a majestic quadrangle, its sandstone pillars illuminating the structure in all its glory. With its rib vaults, painted walkways and flying buttresses, it was reminiscent of the citadel in Ciraun, Naarva's capital – or at least, what it had been like before it fell.

‘Welcome to the University of Naarva,' Talemir said with a sweep of his hand, his own shadows ebbing away.

‘This didn't fall with the capital?' Thea asked, eyes wide as she took in the rectangular building and the towering spires, adorned with intricate carvings and arched windows.

‘It did,' Talemir told her. ‘We've worked hard to restore it over the years. It's obviously not a working university, but it has all the foundations. There's a library, residential halls, lecture halls, a theatre, a dining hall and a scholar's lounge, and further out are the greenhouses.'

Thea beamed. ‘My sister would love those. My younger sister, Wren, I mean,' she corrected herself.

‘You said she's an alchemist?' Talemir asked thoughtfully.

‘One of the best.'

‘Then she'll have an even deeper appreciation for this place. Not far from here used to be the midrealms' most prestigious academy for alchemy. Farissa herself trained there, if I'm not mistaken.'

Thea's brows shot up. ‘Truly?'

Any recollection Wilder had of an alchemy academy in Naarva was vague, but he knew the art hadn't always been taught at Thezmarr.

A flurry of movement unfolded on the other side of the courtyard, with a procession of shadow-touched folk carrying armfuls upon armfuls of vibrant yellow flowers across the way.

‘When's the wedding?' Thea asked with a laugh.

Talemir's gaze slid to Wilder. ‘Eight years ago.' There was no note of malice in his tone, but the comment cut deep all the same.

Wilder shifted on his feet and looked from his former mentor to Thea and Dratos. ‘Can you give us a minute?'

Thea didn't hesitate to elbow Dratos. ‘Come on, you can show me where we're staying. I need a fucking bath.'

‘No arguments from me,' Dratos retorted, stretching his wings leisurely before tucking them behind his back. The shadow-touched ranger led Thea away, leaving Wilder to face Talemir alone for the first time in almost a decade.

Time had etched lines on both their faces, but something softened the edge of their previous conflict. Tal met Wilder's gaze with understanding in his hazel eyes. ‘I hope you're not going to challenge me to another brawl,' he said with a faint note of amusement.

A pang of regret pulsed through Wilder as he recalled one of their last conversations, in which he'd attempted to pummel the older Warsword into the ground for keeping his wraith side a secret.

‘You're not exactly in fighting shape,' Talemir continued, his stoic facade breaking into a genuine grin. ‘And I bet that left hook still needs work, Apprentice.'

Once, the term would have sparked irritation in Wilder – anger, even. But now relief and gratitude swept through him. And guilt.

‘I'll never forgive you for this,' he had ground out long ago. ‘You're no longer a Warsword, no longer a brother of mine…'

‘Tal…' he croaked, emotion threatening to bubble over.

Strong hands gripped his shoulders, steadying him.

Wilder hung his head. ‘I'm sorry. I'm so sorry —'

The weight of those years apart seemed to dissolve in the charged atmosphere, in the unspoken language of brotherhood. At last, the armour cracked, and Talemir's heartfelt embrace bridged the gap of hurt and pride.

For a moment Wilder froze, his apologies numb on his lips.

‘It's alright,' Talemir said, holding him firmly. ‘It's not your fault.'

A ragged breath escaped Wilder. ‘I'm sorry. I didn't —'

‘It's not your fault,' Tal repeated. The shadow-touched Warsword didn't let go. He held Wilder upright, until Wilder lifted his own arms and returned the embrace. The camaraderie he'd missed for all those years surged to the surface, and he clapped Talemir on the back.

Returning the gesture, Talemir released him at last, his eyes lined with tears. ‘Gods, it's good to see you.'

‘And you,' Wilder replied hoarsely.

Talemir gave him a roguish grin and squeezed his shoulder. ‘There's someone I want you to meet —'

But the Shadow Prince was interrupted by the return of Thea and Dratos, who were squabbling.

‘Just think,' Dratos was saying. ‘Now the whole of the midrealms knows you're Princess Althea Embervale.'

‘For fuck's sake, shut up,' Thea replied. ‘You're worse than Kipp and Cal.'

He observed her with mock scrutiny. ‘You don't seem particularly fond of the whole royal thing.'

Thea clicked her tongue in annoyance and gave Dratos a playful shove. Only she clearly wasn't used to her Warsword strength yet – to Wilder's delight, the shadow-touched rebel went flying into one of the stone archways, fragments of stone crumbling around him.

Thea clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Gods, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to —'

Talemir laughed as Dratos dusted himself off with a scowl. ‘He'll survive. When we were fighting, I didn't think to caution you about your strength, but now… you might want to exercise more care.'

Thea raised a brow. ‘He started it.'

Dratos scoffed. ‘I merely pointed out the obvious —'

‘I did warn you there would be no going back, no hiding,' Talemir interjected with a sympathetic glance in Thea's direction, followed by a sigh. ‘I already briefed the others on Wilder's rescue while you were at the tavern, but we need to gather together to make our plans for the war ahead.'

With a glance at Wilder, Thea waved him off. ‘First, the Princess of Delmira would like a bath and a hot meal.'

Tal snorted at that. ‘Drue's going to like you.'

Wilder swayed on his feet. Willpower alone had kept him upright since he'd escaped the tower, but now… it was all catching up with him. He staggered forward, praying to the Furies that he wouldn't eat stone in front of —

‘What's not to like?' Thea quipped, squeezing her small frame in at Wilder's side and casually draping his arm over her shoulder. Gratefully, he leant against her. ‘I'm exhausted,' she declared.

‘You remember where to go?' Dratos asked her.

Thea gave a mock salute, already pulling Wilder away. ‘Scholars' quarters, off from the library.'

Without another word, Thea laced her fingers through his and led him from the university quadrangle into the surrounding building. Wilder was too exhausted to notice the details: the twists and turns of the corridors, the people they passed. How he was still on his feet at all, he didn't know.

At last, Thea pulled him through a library, the air thick with the scent of parchment and leatherbound books, then into a private chamber at the far end.

‘Apparently this was the headmaster's residence at some point,' Thea said quietly, kicking the door closed behind them.

Wilder lurched away from her, bracing himself against the nearest piece of furniture as a wave of exhaustion and pain hit. He sucked in great lungfuls of air, trying to push past whatever threatened to overcome him. All he knew was that suddenly, it was all too much, too fast, that he had been chained up in the dark for so long that now everything was too bright, too loud —

‘I need a moment,' he rasped, as Thea hovered close by.

She moved away, letting him breathe.

He stayed there, leaning on the chest of drawers, inhaling and exhaling, trying not to collapse as his knees trembled under his weight.

Thea was there again.

He made to pull away. ‘I said —'

‘You said a moment, and I gave you one,' she told him firmly. She pointed to the door. ‘Out there, you can have your armour on as much as you need, but in here with me? We are equals. It was you who told me, what hurts you, hurts me. You told me we'll take it on together.'

He remembered the words well. He'd spoken them to her in Harenth, just before they'd been shot full of drugged darts and carted off in chains to a warehouse full of mercenaries.

‘Do you understand?' she echoed him again.

He said nothing, still braced on the drawers, still overwhelmed.

Thea pulled him towards a tub of steaming water at the far end of the room. ‘Right now, I need to care for you, and you're going to let me.'

Wilder drew a trembling breath and stood beside the bath as she slowly removed his filthy pants and ill-fitting boots. He stilled as she gently unwrapped the bandage she'd tied around him earlier, careful of his wound. He let her guide him into the water, where at last, his weight was off his aching feet and his tremors subsided.

In the fractured amber light streaming through the stained-glass windows, Thea washed the blood from his hands, and the pain from his heart.