Page 24

Thea shifted uncomfortably. Audra had known about her fate stone all this time? And had said nothing? Had spoken no words of comfort to the child grappling with her impending death? Had said nothing to the teenager who had convinced herself it meant liberation? And nothing again, to the young woman who raced against death’s hourglass to leave a legacy?

Audra spoke. ‘You will come to learn that most things to be feared exist in life, not in death.’

Thea’s heart stuttered at those words. But by the time she’d gathered the courage to look at her warden, the older woman had pressed her horse into another canter.

Forcing herself to unclench her jaw, Thea adjusted her grip on her reins and followed, focusing on the route ahead.

The Mourner’s Trail stretched on through the seemingly endless Bloodwoods, but at last the bleeding forest opened up, revealing a vast tapestry of land. From their position on the high ground Thea could see sprawling farmlands and hillsides, and cracks in the earth where rivers sliced through the terrain.

But rather than taking in the rich expanse of territory to the east, Thea noticed Audra’s gaze drifting northward, to the glimmer of a great lake and the land beyond.

‘What are you looking at?’

Audra’s shoulders sagged. ‘The ruins of Delmira are up that way…’ She didn't tear her eyes away from the horizon. ‘If you squint, you can see some of the lone watchtowers,’ she pointed. ‘Just behind the lake…’

The so-called watchtowers were all but shadows in the distance to Thea, and yet her scalp prickled as she surveyed the lands kissed by darkness. Delmira had fallen first, long ago, and Naarva, the kingdom of gardens, had followed only six years ago. The stain of monsters on the midrealms was undeniable.

She felt Audra’s eyes on her. ‘What?’

The librarian seemed to consider her, mulling over her words before she spoke. ‘Tell me I chose well, Althea,’ she said. ‘That you will do me and the Furies proud.’

Thea blanched. Audra asking for reassurance was unheard of. Slowly, she nodded. ‘I will, Audra. You have my word.’

‘Good.’ The older woman shortened her reins. ‘Then know this… If you seek power in a world of men and monsters, there is nothing more powerful than knowledge and the ability to wield it. Remember that, would-be shieldbearer.’

Thea’s throat closed up and all she could do was incline her head in acknowledgement, the weight of it all settling on her shoulders.

Seeking to lighten the mood, Thea looked to her warden again. ‘Audra?’

‘What now?’

‘Back in the council room…’ Thea ventured. ‘That was a damn fine throw.’

The lines around Audra’s mouth wrinkled as she smiled. ‘The smallest blade can make the biggest difference.’

They continued riding until the Mourner’s Trail became the Wesford Road, the route that passed through the three remaining kingdoms of the midrealms. There, at the edge of Thezmarrian territory, Audra brought them to a halt.

‘This is where I leave you,’ the librarian told her, holding out a satchel of what appeared to be rations.

Thea frowned, taking it. ‘I didn’t think I was allowed to ride alone?’

Hoofbeats sounded nearby.

‘You’re not,’ came a now familiar deep, husky voice.

Astride a black stallion, twin swords strapped to his back, Wilder Hawthorne emerged from the Bloodwoods.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Thea stared at the Warsword, realising too late that Audra had already cantered off back in the direction of the fortress.

‘Why you?’ She tried to keep the rising anger from her voice. Of all the escorts she might have had, she was stuck with the one who had opposed her the loudest? The one who had stolen her dagger and tried to have her kicked out of Thezmarr? To her frustration, she noticed that when he wasn’t scowling, the lines of his face softened and there was no denying that he was handsome.

But her appreciation was fleeting because his scowl returned with a vengeance. ‘The Guild Master likes to remind me of my place from time to time.’

Thea’s brow furrowed. ‘What does that mean?’

But Hawthorne pinned her with a glare and turned his horse towards the rolling hillside, not deigning to respond.