Thorns & Fire, page 36
Just as she was about to bring the tray to bed, she saw a scrap of parchment poking out from beneath the bowl of bread. She recognized Thea’s handwriting at once, wondering what sort of lewd comment her sister had made.
Her breath caught as she scanned Thea’s words, the note ending with a hastily drawn lightning bolt.
‘What is it?’ Torj asked, brow furrowed.
But Wren wasn’t ready to end their night together. Instead, she shook her head. ‘Just Thea telling us we need our sustenance.’
Torj scoffed and helped her with the tray. ‘She’s hardly one to talk.’
They settled on the bed with the food and a flagon of wine between them, Wren still wearing his shirt, Torj still nude. Wren couldn’t stop her gaze from lingering on him. It was unfair, really, that the gods had made him so perfect. He looked like a god himself, splayed out on the bed beside her . . .
When she met Torj’s eye, he gave her a cocky grin. ‘Not before you’ve regained your strength, Embers.’
She threw a piece of cheese at him.
Together, they ate and passed the wine back and forth. Wren hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she’d eaten more than half her share and found Torj smiling at her again.
‘I knew I wasn’t feeding you enough,’ he said, pushing the rest towards her.
‘It’s not your job to feed me,’ Wren replied, taking another bite of bread and washing it down with some wine.
‘It most certainly is.’
When they finished eating, amid the rumpled sheets, he drew her to his chest and she melted into him, the soul bond flickering in bursts of gold around them once more.
‘How is it that it still exists?’ Wren wondered aloud as the sparks danced between her fingers.
‘I don’t know,’ Torj replied, sounding equally mystified. ‘I tore it in two with my bare hands. I truly thought it was gone for ever . . . What does the book say?’
Wren reluctantly peeled herself away from the warrior and retrieved the tome from her room. Dropping it on the mattress beside Torj, she turned to the relevant chapter. She had read it a dozen times over, and there was no mention of severing a soul bond.
‘Try the index,’ Torj said softly, drawing circles on her bare thigh as she scanned the text.
‘Since when are you the scholar out of the two of us?’ she quipped.
‘Since you’re distracted by my wandering fingers . . .’
Wren hid her smile and turned to the back of the book, where the major topics and events were listed in alphabetical order.
Breaking of bonds. Page 476.
Wren hurriedly found the page. It wasn’t in the chapter on soul bonds, which was why she hadn’t found it. She skimmed the paragraphs for the relevant phrase.
‘Certain magical bonds, like familial connections, end in death. Others, such as soul bonds, can only truly be severed if both parties agree,’ she read aloud. ‘While a soul bond can be broken temporarily, it will repair in time if the love between the pair remains . . .’
‘That was why I could still see it . . .’ Torj murmured. ‘Even though I tore it apart, I still loved you . . . I never stopped.’
‘Neither did I . . . Even when I was furious with you.’ Wren reread the pages. ‘That’s it. That’s the only mention of it.’
Torj peered over her shoulder. ‘Then we have our answer . . .’
‘Perhaps when this fight is done, we can sink into some deep research of the phenomena, maybe even pen our own contribution about our experience, but for now . . .’ Wren closed the volume.
‘For now?’ Torj continued to draw patterns across her naked skin.
Wren smiled. ‘For now, I say we just enjoy the benefits.’
‘I can get on board with that.’ The Bear Slayer kissed her soundly. ‘Let’s stay in this room for ever,’ he murmured against her damp skin.
Even now, the huskiness in his voice curled her toes. ‘For ever?’
‘Mmm . . .’ The sound rumbled beneath her and she smiled against his chest, admiring the ink there. Besides where his lightning scars broke the design, it was a beautiful piece – a canvas of golden skin and dark whorls that extended from the tops of his shoulders and down over his pectoral muscles.
She traced the lines with her fingertips, relishing the rush of goosebumps that washed over him, his nipples hardening at her touch.
‘When did you get this?’ she asked, continuing to trail her fingers over the swirls of ink.
Torj tucked a hand beneath his head and glanced down, his muscled abdomen rippling with the movement. ‘After I became a Warsword,’ he replied. ‘I’d always wanted some sort of tattoo, but knew I’d fill out a lot more if I passed the Great Rite, so I waited.’
‘You were confident,’ she said with a laugh.
‘You don’t pass the Great Rite by being humble, Embers,’ he replied, his mouth quirking to the side.
‘What does it mean, then?’
‘Something about the shifting sands of time . . .’
‘Really?’
Torj snorted. ‘No. I wish I could tell you there’s some deeper meaning. But I’m a simple man, Embers. I just liked the design.’
Wren burst out laughing. ‘You just liked the design?’
‘Yep.’
Shaking her head, she asked, ‘Do you think that’s why Cal’s got a laughing fox on his arse? He liked the design?’
Torj raised a brow. ‘I don’t love that you’ve seen Callahan’s naked backside . . .’
Wren simply grinned.
‘But no,’ Torj laughed. ‘I can attest to the fact that Cal was seeing double at that point, and Kipp gave the artist an extra piece of silver to copy the fox emblem from his kerchief.’
Wren muffled her snort with Torj’s pillow.
‘There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,’ he said.
‘Oh?’
‘What happened to Perseus Graymoor?’ Torj pulled the pillow away. ‘You can tell me now. You poisoned him, right?’
‘No. I told you – it wasn’t me.’ Wren couldn’t help the note of amusement in her voice. ‘I was with my possessive husband the entire time.’
Torj chuckled. ‘Then who did it? Who killed him?’
‘Someone with excellent instincts,’ Wren replied. ‘I suppose it’ll remain a mystery.’
As they lay there together, she pretended this was her new reality, that every morning could start just as they were now. But as the very first rays of dawn caught her eye, she remembered Thea’s note on the desk.
She sighed, tracing the hard line of Torj’s jaw with her fingertips. ‘Do you think we wasted all those years?’ she asked.
‘Wasted?’ Torj cupped her face in his hands. ‘I think it happened exactly the way it needed to, Embers. I don’t regret a moment of it. Not if we stand here together at the end of it all.’
‘You’d do it all again?’ she pressed.
‘A hundred times over if it meant you were mine.’
She rested her brow against his. ‘Then there’s something I have to tell you,’ she said.
He kissed her gently, pulling back to peer into her eyes. ‘Embers, I already know.’
She stared at him, wondering how that was possible when she had decided for certain only moments ago herself.
‘I know you,’ he said. ‘Sometimes I think I know you better than I know myself. I know there’s something you have to do. I just hope you know me well enough by now to understand that I’m with you no matter what. With you ’til the very end.’
She nodded. The time for savouring one another was coming to a close. The outside world was calling.
‘What did the note say?’ he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.
Wren looked up, not managing to hide her surprise.
‘You think I didn’t see you hide that scrap of parchment beneath the tray?’ he said with a smile.
And that only made it harder.
‘Whatever it is, we’ll face it together . . .’ he murmured, brushing the hair from her face.
Wren gathered herself and nodded again. ‘It was a message from Thea. There is to be a meeting in an hour. The People’s Vanguard has marched on Delmira. And Silas the Kingsbane has laid claim to the throne.’
CHAPTER 61
Wren
‘Beware the fury of a patient Delmirian’
– Malik the Shieldbreaker, former Warsword of Thezmarr
THE MOOD WAS sombre in the makeshift council room as rulers and influential figures gathered around the table. Audra sat at the head, her Warswords lining the perimeter of the room, with several chroniclers and historians – including Magnus Crane – already scribbling notes on their pieces of parchment.
Torj’s hand rested briefly on Wren’s shoulder before he stepped into place beside Wilder, while Wren took her place beside Thea. Zavier’s usual chair was empty, and Wren felt a pang of regret as she pictured him lying in the infirmary, his opus having driven him to the point of needing to be sedated. Naarva needed its prince, now more than ever.
‘Our hand has been forced,’ Audra announced without preamble. ‘The rebel force known as the People’s Vanguard has marched into Delmira. Their leader, Silas the Kingsbane – the same man who attacked this academy’s very halls – has declared himself the new king. My sources report that they will reach the ruins of the capital by nightfall.’
The room erupted. Fingers were thrust across the table, faces reddening in anger, harsh words flung carelessly.
‘This is the Delmirians’ fault. If they hadn’t delayed—’
‘How do we still not know who this bastard is?’
‘I can have our forces at our borders by dawn tomorrow—’
Wren had seen this before. The blame. The festering resentment. All of it boiling over into an uncontainable mess, one that poisoned the minds and hearts of men. Her gaze went to Farissa, then back to Audra, who was watching Thea expectantly.
Wren felt her sister shudder beside her, her expression ashen as her hand drifted absent-mindedly to where she once wore the fate stone that had spelled her death, or so she had thought.
They had discussed it at length since Thea’s arrival at Drevenor. There was a line of succession; there was an armed force threatening the midrealms. Who better to lead their defence than a Warsword of Thezmarr?
Wren saw Thea’s hands clench on the table as she stared at the grain of the wood. The shouting had grown louder, the raised voices adding to the pressure building in Wren’s chest and the panic in Thea’s eyes.
‘What say you?’ King Leiko demanded, his face ruddy, spit landing on the table. ‘Will the princesses of Delmira finally make their choice? We need someone to oppose this tyrant already plundering your lands. We need someone to step up.’ He flung a hand at Audra. ‘Guild Master, do something!’
Audra’s face was lined with regret as she turned to Thea. ‘We cannot delay a moment longer. We need to know: what do you propose we do about the usurper who has claimed the kingdom for his own?’
Thea’s mouth opened and she moved to stand—
Wren covered her hand with her own and squeezed it. As she rose, she whispered in her sister’s ear, ‘I claim this burden as my own, Thee. And you will let me have it.’
She heard the shuddering breath that left Thea, but Wren straightened, pushing her shoulders back and lifting her chin as those gathered stared at her.
‘The false king will be unseated,’ she announced, her voice as clear as day. ‘Delmira already has a queen.’
Stunned silence fell across the room and Wren waited.
‘You’re not the next in line,’ King Leiko blurted.
‘The law of the midrealms states that should the heir of any kingdom wish to abdicate their throne, they have the right to do so, with the next-born heir to take their place,’ Wren replied calmly. She turned to Thea. ‘Do you wish to abdicate your throne?’
Thea was still pale, and she paused, seeming to search Wren’s face for any sign of doubt. Wren ensured that she saw none.
‘I do,’ Thea said at last.
Wren turned to the shocked faces before her. ‘And I therefore take up that responsibility.’
‘This is unprecedented,’ Lady Liora declared from her seat.
‘As are the times, Lady Liora,’ Wren replied.
Lord Lucian’s voice echoed down the table. ‘The enemy has already infiltrated your kingdom, has likely already plundered the only resource you had . . . You have no funding, no army. How do you expect to win back your kingdom?’
Lightning threatened to spill from Wren’s fingertips; she could feel it begging to be unleashed, could feel Thea’s magic raging beside her as well. But Wren managed to keep it under control. Instead, she used words.
‘We have already had one war of blood and steel, and there will be no shortage of those again. But this battle is a different beast. We must fight alchemy with alchemy, which is a skill I very much have in my arsenal, Lord Lucian.’ She stared down at him. ‘As for the flourishing state of Delmira, I have an answer for that too: it was storm magic that brought it back to life. My storm magic.’ Wren glanced down at her sister, regretting that she hadn’t been able to share the addition to that discovery in private first. ‘We tested Thea’s magic for the same capabilities and have since learned that it is an attribute unique to my own power.’
She had only just managed to slip away to the meadow before the meeting to confirm what she had suspected. The patch of grass that Thea had poured her own storm magic into had remained unchanged, whereas the small parcel Wren had treated that same day was already sprouting more wildflowers.
Thea didn’t look surprised.
‘So you’re saying that your magic is the key to Delmira being the most fertile lands in all the kingdoms?’ King Leiko asked, eyes narrowed. ‘This was the secret your ancestors kept from the midrealms for centuries?’
‘I believe so,’ Wren allowed. ‘And now I am sharing it with you, as a show of good faith for the kind of ruler I will be.’
They stared. They stared and stared at her, but Wren did not fidget; she did not waver beneath the eyes that threatened to bore holes through her.
‘If there are no objections, I will consult with my counsel and devise a strategy to present to you shortly.’
Wren was trembling as she pushed her chair back, but she met Audra’s gaze from across the room and was shocked to see the Guild Master dip her head in respect.
Wren surveyed those gathered around the table once more. ‘You asked for a queen,’ she said. ‘Now you have one.’
CHAPTER 62
Torj
‘For decades, the kingdom of Delmira has been without a reigning sovereign, until now’
– Current Chronicling of the Midrealms
‘YOU REALLY DID know what I was going to do, didn’t you?’ Wren looked at Torj in wonder, her hands trembling at her sides as they stood in the corridor outside.
‘Of course I knew,’ he replied, taking her hands in his, trying to absorb her fear. ‘I knew the moment Thea offered herself up to take the throne. Before even that, really.’
‘But . . .’ She blinked up at him. ‘I didn’t know myself.’
‘You did,’ he told her. ‘You just needed time.’
Her bottom lip quivered. ‘I’m sorry . . . I’m so sorry—’
Torj took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her eyes to remain on his. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for. Do you hear me? Nothing. With the weight of the whole fucking world on your shoulders, you have done what feels right to you, and that’s all anyone can ask. Delmira is your family’s kingdom. Your birthright.’
‘I don’t know what this means for us,’ she said hoarsely. ‘Is that wrong? That in the face of yet another war, all I can think of is the fact that I might lose you?’
Torj kissed her, claiming her fiercely. She opened for him, moaning into his mouth, her lips moving over his desperately.
He broke away, pressing his brow to hers. ‘We survived one war,’ he told her. ‘We’ll survive this one too.’
He remembered when he’d first met Wren as a beautiful young alchemist in the Bloodwoods, the hem of her skirts muddied, dirt lining her fingernails . . . It wasn’t until years later that he’d discovered who she truly was – not only a fiery woman of Thezmarr, but a princess of the midrealms.
And now?
Now he was soul bonded to the future Queen of Delmira.
Torj peered into her willow-green eyes, watching as the dark shadows of grief morphed into determination.
‘Tell me what you need, Embers,’ he murmured.
She squeezed his hands. ‘I need Kipp.’
CHAPTER 63
Wren
‘The dichotomy of the crown is that it shows a man everything he could become, while slowly taking away all that he is’
– The Midrealms Chronicles
‘YOU HAVE ME,’ came a voice from behind them.
Kristopher Snowden approached with a wry grin on his face.
‘And the rest of the gang,’ he added, motioning to Thea and Wilder, who were striding after him. ‘Cal is guarding Zavier, or he’d be right here too.’
Wren’s mouth fell open. ‘I . . .’
‘You didn’t think you’d be doing this alone, did you, Embers?’ Torj’s words rumbled against her side.
‘I thought . . .’ But Wren had thought exactly that. For the longest time, that was how she’d operated. For years it had been just her against the world.
As though reading her thoughts, Torj leaned in. ‘You’re not on your own any more.’
Tears threatened to spill, and she distantly recognized the strange feeling drifting over her . . . Relief.
Thea pushed past Torj and flung an arm around her shoulders, looking more herself than she had in days. ‘You couldn’t have given me the heads-up?’ she demanded.
Wren shook her head. ‘You’d never have agreed to it.’
