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THEA

The following day, Thea and Wilder dressed for war. Donning their armour and their weapons, they met the others outside the Singing Hare, ready to fight. Thea could feel the lightning at her fingertips, vying for her attention, demanding to be unleashed upon their enemies.

Soon, she told herself. Soon she’d light up the sky with her storms. She could almost taste the vengeance on her lips. They’d taken the only home she’d ever known and turned it into a cesspit for the vilest of monsters. They’d taken her sister from her and changed her against her will. No matter what happened on that battleground, she’d make sure they paid dearly for it.

For the first time in her brief experience of battle, there was no waiting. The time for strategy and plans was long past, and the song of violence beckoned.

With their company assembled, it was Drue who addressed them, clad in armour of Naarvian colours.

‘Dratos, Talemir and Anya spent the morning moving our forces from Aveum to the outer borders of Thezmarr. They’re ready to fight,’ she told them, her blue eyes fierce, her red-streaked hair braided down the side, just like Thea’s. In fact…

Thea looked at all of them: Drue, Adrienne, Wren, Farissa… They all wore their hair in a side braid, just as she did – a nod to the women warriors beyond the Veil, and a nod to her, the woman Warsword among them. The gesture made her throat ache. She had dreamt of something like this, long ago.

‘The braids look good,’ she ventured.

‘I had less to work with,’ Anya said at her side, running a hand over her closely shaved scalp. ‘Maybe I’ll grow it out after this.’

‘Don’t,’ Thea replied. ‘It suits you.’

Anya gave a hoarse laugh. ‘I always thought so… Are you ready?’ she asked.

‘As I’ll ever be,’ Thea admitted. ‘Are you?’

Anya scanned the snow-covered woodlands beyond the tavern and breathed in the crisp air. ‘I’ve been ready for a long time.’ Her wings materialised at her back, her shadows unfurling from her. ‘Shall I take you and Wren?’

Thea nodded, motioning for her sister to link hands with them.

‘To Thezmarr?’ Anya said.

‘To Thezmarr,’ Thea echoed.

The sisters landed close to the coast, just beyond the reach of the Bloodwoods, the briny sea air enveloping them, chasing away the remnants of Anya’s shadows. In the distance, Thea could just make out the harsh lines of the fortress stretching into the grey sky.

‘I’ve wanted to come back here for so long,’ Anya murmured, her eyes locked on the spires. ‘I never thought it would be like this…’

Thea didn’t say anything, only moved a little closer to their eldest sister. She would never know the pain of being ripped away from family as Anya did, of never having a sense of home, but that didn’t stop the sadness blooming in her chest. For Anya and all that she’d lost and suffered, and for the three of them, having been robbed of each other for so long. The Furies had a poor sense of humour, to unite them as the midrealms fell to pieces.

‘Come. We should saddle up,’ Anya said, already moving towards the treeline. There hadn’t been enough shadow-touched left to move proper cavalry units from Aveum, but the frontlines, at least, had horses.

Quickly and quietly, their modest force gathered as dusk fell around the Bloodwoods. It was a fitting spot to prepare for war, surrounded by gnarled trees that bled the blood of warriors long dead, and whispered secrets with the rustle of their leaves.

‘If the Warswords have a moment…?’ Wren’s request was quiet but firm.

Thea motioned to Wilder, who brought Torj, Vernich and Talemir to them beneath the low branches of a dying willow.

‘I didn’t have enough supplies to make these for everyone, but after what Wilder told us about the Scarlet Tower, I thought we’d best take precautions…’

Wren handed each of them a strange-looking pellet the size of a thimble. Thea held it between her thumb and forefinger, studying it.

‘Should you be captured,’ Wren told them, ‘bite down on it. It will release a lethal dose of Naarvian nightshade… The enemy will not have the opportunity to add you to their ranks.’

Thea stared at her sister, unsure whether to be impressed or terrified by her cool and calculated instructions.

‘I suggest tucking it into the neck or shoulder piece of your armour. Warsword armour in particular has a specific place for such a thing.’ Wren pointed it out on Talemir. ‘If your hands are bound, you’ll be able to free it from the patch with your mouth and still access it.’ She turned to Thea. ‘I know your armour isn’t the same, so I made this…’

It was a patch of leather, which, with quick fingers, Wren loosely sewed into place where Thea could reach it with her teeth if need be.

As Thea slipped the poison pellet inside, she wondered if this would be how she left this world – by her own hand.