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‘Just a few knocks and scratches, Sir,’ she rasped.

The Warsword radiated fury, no doubt recalling the last threats he’d made when he’d discovered the trainees at violent odds with one another, but as no one objected to her story, nor offered the truth of the matter, Torj’s hands were tied.

‘Fine,’ he snapped. ‘If you say so.’ He turned to the group. ‘You’re all due back at the fortress. I suggest you make quick work of it.’

When he had gone, it was Lachin who looped his arm through Thea’s and helped her towards the gates. ‘That was some serious grit back there…’ he muttered.

Thea sucked in a painful breath. ‘Didn’t –’ she gasped again – ‘think… I had it… in me?’

‘I’ll never doubt you again.’

‘Better… Better have those three silvers…’ she trailed off.

‘Oh, they’re ready and waiting for Kipp. I’d give them to him now if he could walk straight.’

Thea glanced back to see Cal hauling their friend up the grassy knoll. He’d taken head hits from a Warsword. He was likely to have a concussion, or worse.

When they reached the gates, Thea slid her arm from Lachin’s. ‘Thanks,’ she muttered.

‘You don’t need help…?’

Oh, she needed help alright, but while the shock of it all kept her upright, Thea shook her head. ‘Defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?’

‘I get it,’ he said, giving her a nod of understanding before striding off towards the hall.

Thea paused to lean against the doors. Her body had taken a battering unlike anything she’d experienced before and she could still feel the warm trickle of fresh blood flowing from her wound. Despite how she’d left things with Wren, she needed to find her sister. The shock was bound to wear off, and when it did she knew she’d be in trouble.

If she’d attended more healing classes with the girls, she might know how to temporarily treat herself, but aside from staunching the bleeding, she knew little else about combat injuries. Her shieldbearer lessons hadn’t covered that topic yet.

She tried to take some small satisfaction in that she’d shown everyone, including Vernich the Bloodletter, that Sebastos Barlowe couldn’t bring her down. She had shown them all that she was unbreakable, and that she belonged at Thezmarr. But all of that would be for nothing if she died in the hallway.

Thea winced as she took her first solo steps. ‘You can do this,’ she muttered. The wound in her side had not stopped bleeding and the light-headedness she was experiencing told her the blood loss was taking its toll.

There was no sign of Cal and Kipp and from that she knew that they’d gone straight to the infirmary, which was where she should be going.

She staggered down the corridor, leaning against the wall for support.I have to find Wren. I have to find Wren. The words became a chant in her head as she turned a corner and her breathing became more shallow. She just needed to reach Wren’s rooms, then all would be well. Spots swam in her vision as her hand found the cool surface of a door handle and she turned it, stumbling inside.

It was pitch-black and even in her dazed state, Thea knew she was not where she’d intended to be. A rasping wheeze escaped her and she knew she had reached her limit, that she could go no further. Her back hit a cold stone wall, and she leaned her head against it. She just needed to rest for a moment. She just needed to gather her strength. Then she could find Wren. Wren would know what to do. Wren always did.

Thea’s knees quivered under her weight and she felt herself sliding —

The door flew open and a huge figure blocked out the light from the corridor.

‘Gods,’ a deep voice sounded, a melody that skated along her bones.

She knew that voice.

Large but gentle hands were peeling her blood-soaked shirt from her side. A callused finger lifted her chin.

‘Who.’ Hawthorne demanded. ‘Who did this to you?’

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The Warsword caught her as her legs finally gave out and she slid to the floor.

‘Who did this?’ he demanded again, his firm hands circling her waist. His silver eyes surveyed her with a fiery expression.

His words sent a crackle of fire through Thea, but she gritted her teeth.