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Time slipped by and soon, late autumn was falling around Thezmarr in the orange and golds and reds of the Bloodwoods.

The Warswords and commanders remained unimpressed with them. Cal and Kipp often likened the brutal warriors to caged animals, snarling at the slightest inconvenience or mistake. It was no secret that they did not want to be training the shieldbearers, and it was certainly no secret that none of them wanted to take on an apprentice. Still Thea trained. Hawthorne had been right about her being years behind the rest and so she was determined to work twice – thrice as hard as the rest.

As autumn turned cold and the days grew shorter, Thea, Cal and Kipp drank in everything and anything the masters had to teach them: how to stay upright in the saddle while wielding both blade and shield; how to brace a shield wall against a volley of arrows; how to find north and south by the smattering of the stars in the night’s sky and the height of the sun. But the lesson that Thea embraced with every fibre of her being, so much so that it became one with her, was how to wield a blade. She learnt how to swing a sword, how to slice and pierce her mark every time, how to kill her enemies. Rough calluses formed on her hands and fingers, adding to the assortment of burn scars that already marred her skin. She didn’t care.

She could feel her progress every day. Could sense it in the lack of mocking comments from the other shieldbearers. Slowly, from an object of ridicule and disdain, she had become a peer, and as more time passed, she was determined that her role would change again – to a threat.

Like the other shieldbearers, Thea practically fell over herself every time there was an opportunity to run an errand for one of the commanders, whether it was delivering messages around the fortress, cleaning weaponry, or tending to horses before a journey. Just like the others, she wanted to prove herself indispensable to Thezmarr. She wanted them to know her name; she wanted their recommendations, their praise, though that was always rare.

There were clear standouts in each cohort and, to her dismay, Sebastos Barlowe was one of them. While she had improved immensely since her first day, she still lingered in the middle of the group in terms of her skills and abilities. Whenever she dwelled on this, Hawthorne’s words echoed in her mind:‘You're already years behind some of them. The next test for warriors will be in three months, then not for another year. You need to be ready.’

And Althea Nine Lives would be. She had no other choice.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

It had been a month since Thea’s first day as a shieldbearer, and with her own training in addition to the required load, she’d hardly seen Wren. But when her sister tracked her down in the hour before dawn in the armoury, she knew something had changed.

‘I’ve been looking all over for you!’ Wren practically shouted. Despite the cold and the ungodly hour, she was beaming. ‘I’ve been made Farissa’s apprentice! A formal apprentice of the alchemy arts, Thea!’

Thea blinked for a moment and then dropped the blade she was sharpening. She launched herself at her sister. ‘That’s amazing, Wren. I knew it would be you! You’re the best there is.’

‘You’re truly pleased for me?’

Thea pulled back. ‘What? Of course I’m pleased for you. This is your dream.’

‘I know, I just…’

‘Just what?’

‘Well, I wasn’t sure you’d be entirely happy.’

‘Why in the realms would I not be?’

‘I… It doesn’t matter.’ Wren grinned. ‘Come and see my new quarters! I get rooms all to myself, can you believe it?’

Thea hardly had any choice in the matter. Wren was all but dragging her back to the fortress. Somewhat dazed, Thea allowed Wren to pull her through the passageways to the upper levels towards the masters’ and commanders’ residences.

‘You stay up here?’

‘I have to be close to Farissa. I have the room next to hers.’

At last they came to her door and Wren opened it, proudly motioning for Thea to step inside.

‘How long have you been here?’ Thea asked, frowning as she took in the obscene amount of clutter. Her sister had always had a tendency to be messy, but this was a whole new extreme. There were plants on nearly every surface, glass vials balanced precariously on uneven edges.

‘Two days.’

Thea baulked. ‘Two days?And it looks like this?’

‘It’s organised chaos, I’ll have you know, Althea. I know where everything is.’

‘Gods help anyoneelsewho needs to find something, though,’ Thea replied with a laugh.

‘But no one would,’ Wren said gleefully. ‘It’smyroom. My very own.’

Thea knew what that meant. In all the years they’d lived at Thezmarr, neither of them had ever had a space of her own. So Thea reached out and squeezed her sister’s shoulder. ‘Congratulations, Wren. You deserve it.’

‘Thank you.’