Page 3 of Thorns & Fire (The Ashes of Thezmarr #2)
But her voice cracked. Horror filled her as burning tears blurred her vision and her storm magic surged, as though it sensed the fracture in her armour.
She felt lightning beneath her skin, a current she could surrender to so that the maelstrom of the past, her failings of the present, couldn’t drag her down, couldn’t break her apart.
Of all things, it was his voice that came to her, that filled her mind.
‘We survived. You and me. Together.’
A gentle hand guided her by her elbow. ‘Come with me, Elwren.’
In the more intimate setting of Farissa’s private quarters, seated at the small table by the bookshelves, the older woman said with unflinching frankness, ‘You’ve been unable to replicate it, haven’t you?’
Steeling herself against any further emotional breakdown, Wren gave a single nod of confirmation, shame flaming her cheeks.
If Farissa was shocked or angry, she didn’t show it. Instead, she sighed. ‘Drevenor demands a lot from its students. You more than most. Alchemy is all about transformation, knowledge and learning, and somewhere along the way, I have failed to guide you.’
‘Farissa, it’s not your fault—’
The older woman silenced her with a look. ‘You have been treated like a sage here, when you are but a newly graduated adept. I think because of the war I forget how young you are.’
‘I’m thirty—’
Farissa gave a wry smile. ‘And so? You think you should have all the answers? You think that every facet of this complicated world is your responsibility alone to bear? That you can stop a war on your own?’
‘I can try.’
‘Yes, you can try, Elwren... But you can also ask for help.’ The Master Alchemist leaned back in her chair.
‘The midrealms as we know them are changing. Kings and queens can be stripped of their magic... Warswords who were once the ultimate beacons of strength can be felled by a potion. And at the heart of it all is this.’
Farissa held up a familiar glass vial of iridescent liquid.
‘The mind is a blade, Elwren. Let’s see what ours can do together.’
Wren brought her research to Farissa’s quarters, and hours later, the two alchemists had reviewed every page of notes, every sample, every ingredient Wren had trialled.
The robust bookshelves were almost bare, with countless volumes pulled from their stacks only to be rifled through and set aside on the floor.
Looking more than a little unhinged, grey fly-aways framing her face, Farissa surveyed the assorted vials. ‘You’re certain this is everything you used?’
‘Yes. I’ve checked everything to the point of madness,’ Wren told her, eyes gritty as she stared into the fire. The crackling hearth failed to soothe the sinking despair in her chest.
But Farissa paced around the table, picking items up, reading their labels and placing them back down, clicking her tongue in frustration, as though the answer were staring them right in the face.
‘We’ve been over it a hundred times,’ Wren said gently.
‘And we’ll review it a hundred more if necessary.’ Farissa picked up an empty jar. ‘Remind me what was in this?’
‘The binding agent,’ Wren replied. ‘The powdered leaves of that plant from Delmira. I discovered later that it was actually a common silvertide rose. They’re a hardy climber; they grow all over the midrealms.’
Farissa nodded. ‘Master Norlander would be pleased with you. Isolating the leaves is a well-established use for such a plant in lifelore.’
Wren made a noise of agreement, reaching for another book—
‘Wait,’ Farissa said suddenly, tipping the jar to dislodge any remnants. Only a fine dust remained. ‘You brought these leaves from Delmira?’
Wren’s brow furrowed as she slowly turned back to the older woman. ‘Yes, originally. And then once I identified what the plant was, I sourced it from the greenhouses here...’ She trailed off.
Farissa chewed her lip. ‘And you harvested the original leaves yourself?’
‘Yes, though the academy’s crop was in a far healthier state.’
‘What was the original growing site like?’ Farissa pressed.
‘Like everywhere else in Delmira: barren, poisoned land... Just a small patch of weeds in the cracked earth near my cottage. Honestly, I was surprised anything was growing there at all.’
‘And yet... you used it in your work.’
Wren folded her arms over her chest defensively. ‘And it was effective. Is it wrong to hypothesize that the same species of rose grown in far more nourishing conditions would serve as an even better binding agent?’
‘It’s not wrong,’ Farissa allowed with a small smile. ‘But did it do as hypothesized?’
Wren approached the table, taking the empty jar and the one containing her new supply from the greenhouse. At what point had she switched from one to the other? ‘I...’
‘I should have asked you this sooner.’ Farissa heaved an enormous tome from her shelves and set it down on the table, flipping to the table of contents, scanning it intensely.
Biting her lip, Wren’s former master turned to a page full of botanical drawings, pointing to one of them. ‘Was this the flower?’
Wren stared at the page, scrutinizing the likeness. ‘The leaves are identical, yes, but the bush wasn’t blooming when I harvested, so the petals... I’m not sure.’
Not taking her eyes from the page, the older woman rubbed her temples.
‘I think one of two things has happened here... Either you misidentified the species – an easy thing to do when you’re not at the original site and don’t have the full plant available for observation – or there was something particular about the conditions there that affected your supplies from Delmira. ’
Wren’s stomach bottomed out. She had never even considered that she might have misidentified the plant, or that the ruins of her homeland might have properties that could somehow favourably impact the plant life there.
‘I was arrogant,’ she murmured, hanging her head. ‘I didn’t question myself. I didn’t interrogate—’
‘You made a mistake,’ Farissa cut in.
‘A mistake that cost the midrealms weeks of time,’ Wren argued. ‘Time that could have been spent putting an end to this madness, had I not been so stupid —’
‘Stop.’ Farissa’s gaze was sharp as it met hers. ‘I will not watch you descend into the endless pit of what could have been. We need to look forward to what can be done.’
Wren searched Farissa’s eyes for the same hopelessness she herself felt, but she found none.
‘From here, there’s only one path left for you, Elwren.’
The air around Wren rippled, and tiny arcs of lightning danced between her fingers. She felt its current through her whole body as she breathed, ‘And that is?’
Farissa placed a hand on her shoulder, her grip firm, fierce determination burning in the depths of her eyes. ‘You must return to Delmira.’