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The earth shuddered beneath them as something – someone – landed in front of them.

With his arm still slung around Thea, Wilder could only stare at the winged figure before him.

The man hadn’t changed, not in all the years that had passed, but for the dusting of silver through the dark golden-brown hair that was swept back in the same knot he’d always worn. He was as broad and tall as ever as he tucked his wings behind his back and sheathed his swords at his hips, his plain black armour shining with wraith blood.

‘Hello, Apprentice,’ said the familiar rich, warm voice.

Wilder blinked, not quite believing it, his knees threatening to buckle. ‘Tal…?’

Talemir Starling smiled broadly, his hazel eyes bright as his shadows danced around them. ‘Told you there’d come a day when you’d need us…’

He came forward, and were it not for the hand that grasped Wilder’s shoulder, he would have sworn the winged Warsword was a figment of his imagination, a ghost from a distant past.

But Talemir’s grip was firm and solid. ‘It’s good to see you, Wilder,’ he said earnestly, his gaze brimming with emotion.

At Wilder’s side, Thea made a noise of frustration. ‘You took your time.’

Talemir’s hand dropped from Wilder’s shoulder and he gave her a grin. ‘Seemed like you wanted to make a statement.’

Wilder knew he was gawking as he watched the surreal exchange unfold. Thea was here, with Talemir… They had worked together to save him from the Scarlet Tower and the terrible fate that had awaited him there. How? It was taking every ounce of his willpower to remain upright, to hide the tremor in his hands.

‘We should get out of here,’ Talemir said, gesturing to the smouldering ruins. ‘It won’t be long until word spreads of this. They’ll send more —’

‘Can you carry us both?’ Thea asked.

‘Not all the way to headquarters.’ Talemir stretched his wings with a grimace, his shadows unfurling around him. ‘But I wouldn’t take you there straight away even if I could. There’s a chance there’ll be wraiths on our tail, and I don’t want to lead them to our doorstep. But I know a place I can leave you while I check for breaches and get help.’

Wilder was rigid beside Thea. He felt untethered from himself, from the situation unfolding before him. He had kept the feeling at bay for weeks in the cells and violent pits of the tower, but here, surrounded by people he knew, and loved, his armour was starting to crack.

‘Preferably somewhere with liquor,’ he heard himself say hoarsely.

Talemir barked a laugh. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

Then, without warning, shadows swept in. Not the shadows of evil and tyranny, but another kind: warmer, protective. Shadows that Wilder himself knew from long ago. Talemir’s power.

He heard the beat of Tal’s wings, and felt the pull of his magic, wrapping around him and Thea and launching them skyward.

Wilder had only experienced it a handful of times before, once with Talemir himself, the other times with Anya and Dratos. He would never get used to it – a surreal backward freefall, wind whipping all around him.

Thea’s hand in his anchored him as space and time seemed to warp around them, toying with each of his senses. He knew they weren’t simply flying, that Talemir was transporting them with shadow magic. Wilder didn’t care, so long as it stopped soon. He’d never liked the sensation —

Solid ground met his ill-fitting boots and he staggered forward. Only when he was steady on his feet did Talemir’s shadows retreat, revealing a familiar place.

A pale stream of moonlight illuminated the white stones and wooden beams of a large building. A rustic sign swung outside the door.

Wilder stared. ‘You’ve got to be joking.’

Talemir gave a roguish grin and reached for the heavy wooden door. ‘You said somewhere with liquor, Apprentice.’

Wilder glanced at Thea, who was staring at the sign, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘Kipp is going to have a fit.’

The door creaked loudly as Talemir pushed it open and waited for Wilder. ‘Welcome back to the Dancing Badger.’

Dazed, Wilder stepped inside, Thea close behind. Talemir lit several candles before he disappeared behind the bar, giving them a moment to look around the tavern.

It was as though no time had passed. Dark timber beams adorned the ceilings, along with iron chandeliers that hung low over the long tables. A great hearth lay at the centre, cold and unused, the corners of the space furnished with generous cushioned booths. Someone had cleared away the discarded plates, cups and empty bottles that had been strewn about the last time he was here, but other than that… The portraits lining the walls were the same, even including the face of Albert, the owner of the Laughing Fox in Harenth, and the man he now recognised as Everard, the owner of the Singing Hare in Aveum. He could only imagine how irritated Marise would be to learn his likeness wasn’t included in the drinkers and thinkers’ hall of fame…

Wilder hesitated. It was too good to be true, too real.