Page 6 of Thorns & Fire (The Ashes of Thezmarr #2)

Wren

‘Untamed sovereign magic has always been a threat to the common folk of the midrealms’

– The Midrealms Chronicles

‘W HAT DID YOU say?’

The words rang through Wren – a surreal ripple, tying her to another place.

For a moment, she was not aboard the Sea Serpent’s Destiny on her way to Delmira, but somewhere else entirely.

The scent of black cedar and oakmoss surrounded her, consuming her senses, and she could feel the echo of a familiar spark in her chest.

‘When I’m nothing but ash among the embers, I’ll still be yours ... ’

It hit her like a bolt of lightning to the heart: the rush of his impassioned words against her skin, the slide of him deep inside her, that piercing storm-blue gaze that saw right into her soul—

‘Wren?’ Thea nudged her. ‘What did you say?’

Wren blinked, coming back to herself as the crisp, briny sea air swept away any trace of what she thought she’d smelled in the wind. ‘I... I was saying that for the first time since we discovered our heritage, we’re...’

‘Together? Going home?’ Thea finished for her.

Home . It should have stirred something within her – excitement, relief, perhaps a piece of some long-forgotten puzzle falling into place. Instead, it left an ache in her chest, a void she couldn’t name.

Thezmarr. Delmira. Drevenor. Each place had meant something to her.

But none of them had ever been home .

For a whisper of time, home had smelled of black cedar and oakmoss, had tasted of dark promises and desire... had sounded like a husky laugh dancing along her skin.

‘It’s bittersweet, isn’t it?’ Thea asked, leaning on the weathered railing beside her, and for a moment Wren thought her sister had read her mind. But Thea sighed. ‘The last time we travelled together, Anya was with us.’

Wren stared at the waves on the horizon. ‘She was.’

‘We don’t talk much about her,’ her sister observed.

‘It hurts to talk about her. About Sam and Ida, too.’ Wren picked at the skin around her nails, bracing herself against the rush of grief flooding her chest.

‘I miss them,’ Thea said.

‘Me too. Every day. It feels so unfair that we lost them. And Anya... We had only just got her back. We were only just getting to know her.’

‘I know.’ Thea reached out and stilled Wren’s fingers. ‘But it’s not just them you’re sad about.’

‘I don’t—’

‘Want to talk about it, I know. But you can listen,’ Thea snapped. ‘I’ve tried to give you your space. I’ve tried to ask how you are. I’ve tried everything I can think of, and I still don’t understand what happened between you and Torj.’

‘That makes two of us, then,’ Wren muttered, wincing at the sound of his name.

‘Then why in the name of the Furies aren’t you figuring it out?’ Thea cried. ‘For someone whose head is always buried in a book and questioning everything, you’ve left this mystery unsolved. Why?’

Wren bit her lip hard to stop it from quivering. She had practically begged him to stay. She’d told him that she loved him. She would not cry, not over him. Not any more.

‘Because it’s not a fucking mystery, Thee. He ended things—’

‘But why ? That man is head over heels in love with you. Has been for years, Wren.’ Thea threw her hands up, clearly exasperated. ‘We found something while you were in the Gauntlet.’

Wren’s narrowed gaze slid to her sister. ‘What do you mean, “found something”?’

Thea sighed. ‘A book. Wilder and I don’t know what it meant exactly, but it meant something .’

‘What book?’ Wren demanded.

‘ Tethers and Magical Bonds Throughout History .’

Wren stared at her sister. She knew there were magical bonds in existence, of course – she, Thea and Anya had shared one through their sovereign magic, through family.

From what she’d seen of the Warswords and their Tverrian stallions over the years, she’d assumed there was a magical connection there as well.

.. The midrealms and the lands beyond were full of unknown powers; she just didn’t understand what any of that had to do with Torj.

‘What?’ she said at last.

‘During the Gauntlet, when he was going mad with worry for you, he kept saying he could feel you – your emotions, your magic...’

A shiver ran down Wren’s spine. ‘We thought there was a sliver of my power trapped in his scars...’

‘It wasn’t his scars,’ Thea replied. ‘He’d been looking into magical wounds with Farissa.’

Wren loosed a tense breath. ‘I knew I had hurt him. I knew—’

Thea shook her head. ‘When he talked to me and Wilder, he wasn’t describing pain...’

‘What, then?’

‘Connection. A bond ,’ Thea answered, stressing the last word.

‘I’d seen that book in Kipp’s room, so I brought it to Torj.

Next thing we know, he was storming off to find Audra.

Then you returned from the trials, and you were hurt.

.. He didn’t leave your side for weeks. And I didn’t see the book again.’

‘That was the last you heard of it?’

Thea nodded.

Wren turned back to the waves, resting against the ship’s railing, shaking her head. ‘What the fuck does any of that mean?’

Thea nudged her with her elbow. ‘It means there’s a reason the Bear Slayer did what he did.’

‘Keep your fists up,’ Thea barked at Wren across the deck of the ship. ‘Remember, you need to protect your face, be ready to strike.’

Though Wren wanted to snap right back at her sister, she clenched her jaw instead and did as instructed, ensuring that her elbows didn’t drop.

The physical exertion offered a reprieve from the onslaught of questions pummelling her mind.

After her conversation with Thea the day before, she had thought of little else but that mysterious book.

She had asked Kipp about it, but he’d insisted that Thea had taken it from his rooms before he’d had a chance to read it.

The irony was not lost on her that the one time she needed vital information, she was as far away from a library as she could be.

And so she had combed her memories of every past moment with the Bear Slayer instead, searching for traces of magic beyond her storm powers and his Furies-given abilities, finding nothing.

In the little time she’d known of the book’s existence, it had become her new obsession, Thea’s words echoing constantly in her mind. But it made no sense to her. She had always felt connected to the Warsword.

Thea’s swinging fist brought her abruptly back to the present.

Light on the balls of her feet as she’d been taught, Wren watched Thea circle her.

They had started training together after the battle at Drevenor; it had been the only thing that got her out of her quarters each day.

A minimum of one hour of daily sparring, as ordered by Audra, the Guild Master of Thezmarr.

Truth be told, Wren would have attended with or without orders – never again did she want to feel helpless or rely upon the strength of a man.

Now, even aboard the Sea Serpent’s Destiny , Thea was a relentless trainer. Wren hated to admit that it was paying off. She was getting stronger, faster, better . She knew she’d never match Thea’s skill as a Warsword, but she was no longer weak.

She swung her fist, hard, landing another blow to the padding Thea held up.

‘Good!’ Her sister beamed. ‘Really good, Wren. Just imagine it’s Torj’s face.’

Heat bloomed across Wren’s cheeks as she hit again. ‘Shut up, Thee.’

‘Make me.’ Suddenly, Thea lunged forwards, her right fist shooting out in a swift jab. Wren jerked her head back, the punch whistling past her cheek. She countered with a quick left hook, which Thea easily blocked with her forearm.

But Wren launched herself into a combination, sweat beading at her brow – jab, cross, hook, each punch met by Thea’s solid guards. The sharp smack of Wren’s knuckles against the padding had Kipp and Dessa cheering from the sidelines.

‘You’re doing well. Anya would be proud,’ Thea said warmly, clapping her on the shoulder.

For once, the mention of their sister’s name didn’t hurt; rather, it soothed something inside her. Wren returned Thea’s smile, the exercise having relieved her of that tension she constantly carried with her.

She waved to Dessa. ‘Your turn!’

Wren gave her friend an encouraging smile as they swapped places. When she settled beside Kipp, she saw that he was grinning.

‘You’ll be the deadliest of us all before long, Your Queenliness,’ he quipped.

Wren rolled her eyes. ‘You’re not sparring today?’

‘It never was the best use of my talents,’ he replied with a wink.

‘Speaking of... How did you wrangle your attendance on this expedition? Don’t you have lectures to give?

’ Wren asked him with a quirk of her brow.

During her previous semester, Kipp had caused quite a stir as a supposed visiting academic, delivering talks on strategy and how alchemy had been employed during the war.

He offered a roguish grin. ‘I’m always in high demand, but there’s nowhere I’d rather be than at your side during your time of need.’

Wren snorted. ‘So it has nothing to do with the fact that we’ll be within a few hours’ ride of the Laughing Fox at some point?’ she asked, naming his favourite tavern.

‘No idea what you mean,’ he replied with a straight face.

‘And where’s Cal? You usually like to rope him into all the trouble you make.’

Kipp gave a wistful sigh. ‘Off doing important Warsword things. He was assigned to be Zavier’s guard for his return to Naarva.’

‘And you didn’t want to pester him instead? Swing by the Dancing Badger?’

‘I hear it’s been restored to its former glory, but no... I’d rather scope out your homeland. For when you need to come good on our deal.’

Wren cringed, cursing her past drunken self for calling in a favour with Kipp in the early hours at the Mortar and Pestle.

Sliding her hand into her pocket, she found the scrap of parchment she’d torn from the scroll her friend had given her after the battle at Drevenor.

How many times had she considered tossing it in the hearth?

How many more had she considered giving it over to Audra to send to the Bear Slayer, wherever he was in the midrealms?

‘Have you decided if you want me to take further action?’ Kipp asked her now, eyes bright. ‘I’ll remind you that it’s a deal regardless of what happens next...’

She’d known for years that the Son of the Fox loved to collect favours like they were going out of style, and yet she’d gladly put herself in his debt.

For Torj.

‘Is she still alive? Your grandmother?’ she had asked the Bear Slayer, watching the emotion ripple across his painfully handsome face at the mention of the woman who’d sent him to Thezmarr, who’d saved him from himself all those years ago.

‘She went missing a long time ago, presumed dead. I searched for her for years, but never found anything.’

‘Well?’ Kipp prompted eventually, brow furrowed.

Wren didn’t know why she said it, but she said it all the same. ‘I want you to keep digging.’

If Kipp was surprised by her answer, he didn’t show it. Instead, he saluted her. ‘My investigative services are yours as long as you require them.’

A message was waiting for them the next morning, delivered by raven in the night.

‘Apparently Audra has found a suitable Warsword replacement for me,’ Thea mused over the curling parchment. ‘We’re to meet Cahira on Trader’s Road, at the Harenth turnoff.’

‘Oh.’ Disappointment soured in Wren’s gut. ‘I guess this means we won’t be visiting Delmira together after all.’

‘I guess not,’ Thea replied glumly. ‘But Audra doesn’t like the idea of us together for extended periods – she says that two magic wielders together, one of them a Warsword, is too much of a prize for the enemy to resist.’

Wren knew the Guild Master had a point, but it didn’t mean she had to like it.

‘Cahira’s nice, though,’ Thea offered. ‘You’ll like her.’

Wren gave her sister a reassuring nod. Their arrangement had always been temporary while Audra found someone else, but that didn’t stop the ache from forming.

Thea had been her distraction from it all, her connection to a life long-gone.

They had both said how they missed Anya, Sam and Ida, but Wren hadn’t told Thea that she missed her as well.

Making her excuses, Wren wandered the ship, weaving through the other passengers, catching a glimpse of the midrealms’ mainland on the horizon.

The closer they got to shore, the more restless her magic became.