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It wasn’t long before Kipp ordered another round of drinks, and another, and another, each time somehow managing to find some unsuspecting patron to foot the bill. Thea sat back against the cushion, her cheeks aching from smiling so hard. Cal was a Warsword. Kipp was as brazen and ridiculous as ever. Wren had left her poisons and potions, and was joking with the others as though she were one of them. Torj was in one piece, the corner of his mouth twitching as he not-so-subtly watched Wren.

And Wilder… Wilder’s hand covered Thea’s beneath the table, his dimple deep in his cheek as he laughed with the others.

There was much to catch up on, and Thea drank in the news of Thezmarr like a parched vagabond. Audra and Esyllt had overseen the rebuilding of the fortress and had opened its gates to shieldbearers once more – all were welcome. Malik had helped them rebuild the library, and when Torj had left Thezmarr just a few days ago, he’d been happily braiding belts before the hearth with Dax at his feet. True to his word, Vernich had indeed retired and now lived in a fishing village no one had ever heard of, catching trout by day, drinking fire extract by night.

No one had heard from Dratos since the final battle, and Adrienne had returned to Naarva to search for him.

Wren was in the middle of telling Thea how Farissa had sent her to retrieve some rare plants for a new experiment when Kipp gave a dramatic gasp and grabbed Wilder’s arm.

‘Remember that favour you owe me?’ he asked, his gaze locked on something across the room.

‘Yes…’ Wilder replied tentatively.

‘I’m calling it in.’

‘Now?’

‘Now,’ Kipp said urgently. ‘See that golden-haired beauty over there? She’s been eyeing you up all night. Introduce me.’

Wilder groaned. ‘That’s what you want to use a Warsword favour on?’

‘I know a lot of Warswords now.’ Kipp shrugged before puffing out his chest. ‘And a little less judgement would be appreciated.’

Wilder barked a laugh. ‘Very well, then.’

Thea and Wren had to get out of the booth to let Wilder pass, Thea appreciating his powerful form as he moved across the room to the blonde. She felt a brief stab of pity for the woman as her gaze grew hopeful at the Warsword’s approach, Kipp close on his heels.

‘You’re Wilder Hawthorne,’ she said in awe.

Wilder scraped the loose hair back from his forehead and pushed Kipp forward. ‘And this is my friend, Kristopher Snowden.’

‘Good friend.’ The strategist sidled up to her. ‘But you can call me Kipp,’ he added with a charming grin.

The woman seemed confused. ‘Are you a Warsword as well?’

‘Furies save me, no,’ Kipp replied. ‘I am, however, the mastermind behind everything they do. Isn’t that right, Hawthorne?’

Wilder rolled his eyes at Thea before turning back to Kipp and his new companion with a nod. ‘Would have lost the war without him.’

The woman put a hand to her chest in shock. ‘Truly?’

‘Truly,’ Kipp replied solemnly. ‘Now tell me, have you had the sour mead here?’

Thea had to bite her fist to keep from laughing as Wilder returned to the table with a look of utter bafflement.

‘I’d say you get used to it,’ Cal offered with a grimace, ‘but you never do.’

Chuckling, Wilder picked up his tankard of ale. ‘Easiest favour I’ve ever given.’

‘I’d watch out. He racks them up quicker than you think…’

But Thea’s attention was pulled elsewhere. To the empty seat beside her. And the empty seat opposite it.

‘Where’s Wren?’ she said suddenly. ‘And Torj?’

Both Wilder and Cal looked stunned, their eyes falling to the empty spaces in the booth.

‘No idea…’ Cal replied at last, though his gaze flicked towards a door at the far end of the tavern.