Page 7 of Thorns & Fire (The Ashes of Thezmarr #2)

Torj

‘Every war that has ever come to pass in the midrealms was first foretold by a seer’

– A History of Thezmarr

Q UEEN R EYNA ’ S CONDITION hadn’t worsened, but nor had it improved.

‘Either she’s dead and doesn’t know it yet, or they want us to have whatever information she’s gleaned in the past few weeks,’ Torj wagered to Wilder after they had located rooms at a local inn. ‘Whatever the reason, it’s not good.’

‘No shit,’ Wilder huffed.

The Warswords stood by the door inside the queen’s room while the healer they’d requested tended to her.

Torj was driving himself insane with all manner of theories.

In the brief time they’d been away, they’d seen first hand the influence Lord Silas had garnered over the common people, and now this?

‘You can ask, you know.’ Queen Reyna’s voice floated towards them as the healer took the coin they’d left and bid them a silent farewell.

Torj glanced up to see the queen settled against a pile of pillows, the quilts tucked in around her waist. The colour had returned to her cheeks, but she still looked frail and weak. He wanted to ask her about what she’d said earlier, about the blaze of iron and embers...

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked instead.

‘As well as can be expected,’ she sighed. ‘I presume you want to discuss the events while they’re still fresh?’

‘It would help,’ Torj replied.

‘I don’t know how long I’ve been gone,’ Queen Reyna began. ‘But I know we travelled nearly every day, moving from camp to camp. I was blindfolded for a lot of it... but I heard enough.’

Hope soared in Torj’s chest. ‘Do you know where they were headed? I could get word to Audra to rally the other Warswords.’

‘Lord Silas had planned to remain in the dry docks until you caught up. He wanted to make examples of you both. To show how his dark alchemy can eliminate your kind. But an hour or so before you arrived, he received word from another base. They had something he wanted. Apparently, he wanted it badly enough to abandon two Warswords and a ruler... The very things he says he’s most intent on destroying. ’

Torj shifted, knots tightening uncomfortably in his stomach. ‘Did they harm you?’

‘They... they held me down and forced some sort of tonic down my throat. I fought, but there was no use. As soon as that substance touched my tongue, a numbness spread through me. Like my magic was being leached away, drawn out by something...’

‘Fuck,’ Torj muttered. ‘So they took whatever they put on those blades and made it into something consumable?’

‘Seems that way.’ She closed her eyes, as though bracing herself against something. ‘My magic... I can’t feel it at all. On an ordinary day, I can always feel its presence. But not now. Not after they gave me that tonic. I think... I think it might be permanent.’

‘Only an alchemist or healer can confirm that,’

Torj tried to reassure her. ‘It might just take time to fade from your system, or perhaps it was designed to stay there and do something else. I don’t know... but we can take you back to Drevenor. Have the masters look you over. Have—’ He cut himself off.

‘Wren make a cure?’ Wilder finished for him.

Torj didn’t look at his friend. ‘If need be, yes.’

‘I won’t go back to the academy,’ Queen Reyna said. ‘I wish to return to Aveum as soon as I am able.’

‘Your Majesty,’ Torj protested. ‘If you do indeed need treatment—’

The queen shook her head sharply. ‘In captivity, I was privy to a lot of their conversations concerning their forces. Lord Silas draws more followers to his side every day. They’re more organized than we thought.

They have a recruitment process. They hold at least three villages between here and Naarva.

We would have to pass through them all or take four times as long to return.

They will not expect us to go back to my homeland, and that is where I wish to go. ’

Torj exchanged a look with Wilder, who had started to pace the worn carpet before the hearth. ‘Perhaps you only heard what they wanted you to, Your Majesty.’

‘Why would they leave me behind, only to recapture me on the way to Aveum?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Torj admitted. ‘But that’s the problem. At the moment, we can’t predict their actions. And whatever you’ve heard could be false information they wanted you to report back to us—’

‘They captured a Warsword,’ Queen Reyna interrupted.

Wilder turned to face her slowly. ‘What?’

‘They thought I was unconscious,’ she told them. ‘But I heard them... Lord Silas – he was instructing some of his underlings on how to keep the Warsword contained, what dose of the alchemy to ply her with.’

‘Her?’ Wilder’s voice rose. ‘Did you hear a name?’

A resigned sigh escaped her. ‘No.’

‘Fuck,’ Wilder muttered.

‘It’s not Thea,’ Torj told him. ‘They’d be shouting that from the rooftops.’

‘If they’ve got Thea, they’ve got Wren,’ Wilder said bluntly, searching Torj’s face.

Torj had already made the connection and he was using every ounce of willpower to hide it from his friend as images of the poisoner flooded his mind.

‘You look like you’re going to kiss me.’

‘Tell me you don’t want me, Bear Slayer.’

Torj turned to face the hearth. ‘It’s not her, Hawthorne. They’re safe.’

The queen was shivering. ‘They call him by another name as well...’ she said quietly. ‘Lord Silas, I mean.’

Torj took a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. ‘And what is this other name, Your Majesty?’

Her teeth were chattering now. ‘Silas the Kingsbane... For all the royal blood he intends to spill.’

A wave of goosebumps rushed across Torj’s arms.

‘I’m sending a raven to Audra,’ Wilder declared abruptly before leaving the room, the door slamming behind him.

When Wilder was gone, Torj faced the queen once more. ‘It’s going to be alright, Your Majesty.’

‘Is it?’ she whispered.

‘You’re safe with us. But I do need to ask you something else,’ he ventured.

Queen Reyna dipped her head, giving him permission.

‘That was a premonition you said earlier?’ he said, fighting to keep his voice even. ‘Before you fainted?’

She looked up at him, brow furrowed, as though she were surprised, as though it were something he should already know. ‘It was...’

A moment of stunned silence followed before Torj spoke again. ‘And that’s not the first time you’ve said it...?’

Queen Reyna rubbed her temples. ‘No, it’s not. I had a vision, during the final days of the war, before the penultimate battle. It was why I requested that you lead my forces. I saw your potential.’

Torj distantly remembered the request coming to him, but the battle had been so chaotic, so brutal, that he hadn’t led the Aveum forces for very long.

All the Warswords had united in the fray, using their joint Furies-given powers to drive the enemy back, and Wren.

.. Wren had saved them time and time again with her exploding potions, a warrior in her own right.

‘What exactly did you see?’ Torj pressed, his shoulders bunching.

Queen Reyna’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘I thought you’d know... I told the Embervale sisters.’

He wasn’t sure he was breathing. ‘Told them what?’

The queen met his eyes, lifting her chin. ‘What I saw in my vision... That gold would turn to silver in a blaze of iron and embers. That it would give rise to ancient power long forgotten.’

A chill raked down Torj’s spine as he came back to himself, the queen’s words washing over him, a piece of the past falling into place with brutal clarity. He gripped his hair by the roots, formalities forgotten. ‘You saw this? You knew this was going to happen?’

Queen Reyna’s attention was not on his silver locks, but on the centre of his chest, as though she knew the very scars that marred the skin over his heart. ‘Yes.’

Torj dropped his trembling hands to his sides, biting his tongue so he didn’t spill all manner of frustrations to the queen.

It wasn’t her fault that Wren, Thea and Anya hadn’t thought to share this information with him.

It wasn’t her fault that in the days, weeks and months after the battle in Thezmarr’s courtyard, Wren hadn’t sought him out to tell him what she’d learned from the winter queen.

For the past six months they’d spent together, she’d withheld that piece of information. That the moment between them before the vortex of darkness had been foretold... Torj felt as though the ground had disappeared beneath him, as though he were free-falling into a dark abyss.

‘I didn’t name anyone in the prophecy,’ Queen Reyna told him as she watched him pace the worn carpet before the fire.

‘And yet you knew to ask for me to lead your forces.’

‘I did.’

Gold will turn to silver in a blaze of iron and embers, giving rise to ancient power long forgotten.

He had seen the power of a different prophecy come to life before his very eyes during the war, only to learn that he himself was part of one...

And that Wren hadn’t told him.

‘You love her,’ Queen Reyna said quietly, studying him. ‘The youngest of the Embervale sisters.’

Torj struggled to swallow the lump in his throat, not meeting her gaze. ‘That doesn’t matter now.’

The queen gave a sad smile. ‘You loved her then as you love her today and will for all the days that come after. You will always love her. That is the only thing that matters, Bear Slayer.’

‘You’re bleeding,’ Torj said to Wilder as they threw their packs into the adjoining room. He pointed to where blood was dripping from his friend’s sleeve onto the floorboards.

‘A scratch.’

Torj sighed. ‘It’s never just a fucking scratch.’

Wilder waved him off. ‘I’ll take first watch. You get some rest. You look like shit.’

Torj snorted. ‘Cheers.’

‘If I feel old, you must feel fucking ancient,’ his friend added with a wry grin.

‘Oh, fuck off, Hawthorne.’