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Cal pulled away from Thea, palming the tears from his eyes, his face flushing with shame as he glanced up at Wilder.

‘Sorry —’

‘Don’t ever apologise for caring about your family,’ Wilder said, offering his hand.

Cal took it gratefully, and got to his feet.

Thea looked away to give him a moment, spotting Torj on the blackened edge of the village, brow furrowed. When they reached him, he pointed out several deep lines in the dirt.

‘They evacuated. Apparently with enough time to take supplies. See that?’ He traced the indentation with the tip of his boot. ‘That’s from a supply cart. That there is another. They had time enough to gather what they could and flee.’

‘Someone tipped them off, then?’ Wilder said.

Torj nodded. ‘Looks that way.’

‘Where were they headed?’

‘Notos.’

‘How long ago?’

‘Could have been days ago…’

‘But the ruins are still smoking,’ Cal said, his whole body rigid.

‘Embers can stay hot for days,’ Torj said gently. ‘All it takes is a bit of wind to set them alight again in a place like this.’

Cal sniffed. ‘So you’re saying they escaped one attack, only to run straight towards another.’

Thea gasped, smoke catching at the back of her throat.

The Bear Slayer simply bowed his head. ‘I’m sorry, Cal…’

Cal nodded, seeming to steel himself once more. ‘All the more reason to get there sooner.’

Thea’s heart fractured for him and she couldn’t stop herself from looking at Wren. Her sister was a few feet away, sifting through the ashes, her expression as pained as Thea felt. Thea couldn’t imagine what it would be like if they were torn apart.

But Wilder seemed to understand. ‘You heard the Guardian,’ he said, voice booming. ‘Mount up.’

* * *

As they rode, Thea kept stealing glances at Cal. The reaper attack in the ruins, the water torture he’d endured in the caves of the black mountains and the initiation test hadn’t broken him, but this…

His eyes were still red-rimmed, his face pale, but his jaw was set in grim determination. Kipp rode silently beside him, the two of them taking up the rear of the party, staying slightly back from the rest. Thea wanted to be with them, to show her support, but she also understood that Cal was trying to hold himself together. She knew that during times like these, sometimes it helped more to say nothing, to hold back those gentle words lest they tip the scales of emotion.

So she rode beside Wilder, the Warsword as quiet and stoic as ever by her side. He’d held her all through the night, as though she were something precious he couldn’t let go. Thea didn’t understand him. He could be so sweet and tender, and yet… there was a wall between them she couldn’t bring down, try as she might. And then there had been that business with the half-wraith the day before… She’d seen Wilder flinch as Torj and Cal had speared the creature from the sky and the recognition in the monster’s eyes as it spotted Wilder among them.

‘Is it alive?’she had asked during their first encounter with one of its kind back in Thezmarr.

And Wilder had corrected her.‘He. It’s ahe.’

She had never known the Warsword to be merciful when it came to creatures of darkness. Thea had seen with her own eyes what the wraiths and reapers had done to Malik and Talemir. She knew enough to understand that Wilder blamed himself for their suffering, that he wouldneverlet a wraith live to draw breath in his presence, or anyone else’s. So why show mercy to the half-creatures?

‘I can hear you thinking from here,’ he said gruffly.

‘I wouldn’t have to think so much if you’d just tell me the truth of things,’ she said.

‘I doubt that,’ Wilder replied with a huff. Then, he was twisting in his saddle, pointing to a narrow valley to the north. ‘You see that fissure? And how the trees darken over there?’