CHAPTER 40 Wren
CHAPTER 40
Wren
‘In the grand tapestry of alchemy, each thread woven has the potential to unravel the work of others’
– Drevenor Academy Handbook
W HEN THEY ENTERED the gymnasium, most of Wren’s cohort was already there, as was an alchemist she hadn’t seen before. She was younger than their other teachers, wearing tight leggings and a vest that clung to every curve and muscle of her toned body. She watched them with eagle eyes, her stance like a blade balancing on its point as she scrutinized each novice before she spoke.
‘My name is Olsen Oakes. You may call me Oakes. I’m not a Master Alchemist, but I am a seasoned expert who has been called here today under special circumstances.’ She crossed her arms over her chest, her sculpted biceps shifting impressively. ‘Alchemists have never been mere scholars. Our work often calls for risking our lives. Here at Drevenor, we have always lived by the following mantra: train the body, tame the mind, transcend limitations . However, yesterday’s attack on the infirmary has called for action to be taken. Should anyone wish to change into more practical clothing for physical activity, you’ll find a range of trousers and tunics by the changing rooms over there. Be ready within the next fifteen minutes.’
Looking down at her skirts, Wren left Cal to guard the door and went with Dessa and a few other female alchemists to change. She couldn’t help but be amused at the flaw in the guild’s guard assignment as she looked around at her peers. She knew better than most that the women around her were just as deadly as any assassin on the streets – more so, even. They didn’t need masked assailants armed with blades. They could inflict death with a kiss of fine powder, or a drop of perfume on a swathe of fabric. Oddly, the thought cheered Wren up – until she registered the topic of conversation among the others as skirts were removed and leggings were tugged on.
‘Haven’t you seen the way he moves? Like the stories of those teerah panthers from Tver...All predatory and powerful...’
Wren cast a glance in the woman’s direction. She was lacing up a shirt and smirking at her friend.
‘I heard he beds at least five women a night, to take the edge off,’ another chimed in.
‘I heard he has the strength of a hundred men,’ Dessa added enthusiastically.
‘And who in the midrealms are we talking of?’ Wren demanded, tugging on her own pair of trousers.
‘Callahan the Flaming Arrow, of course,’ Dessa replied, shaking her head as though Wren had asked her what colour the sky was.
‘Cal?’ Wren couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing. ‘Beds five women a night?’
The first woman nodded in all seriousness. ‘He’s got quite the appetite, apparently.’
‘Good gods,’ Wren muttered, thoroughly amused.
‘Well,’ Dessa said, quietly enough so that only Wren could hear, ‘you can’t expect them to swoon over your silver-haired Bear Slayer for ever. Everyone knows he’s off limits.’
‘What?’ Wren blurted.
But Dessa just smiled and headed for the door, leaving Wren to hang her skirts up in a spare locker.
Still reeling, she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the nearby mirrors. The leggings were tighter than she liked, making her feel a little uneasy. But she’d opted to keep her own shirt and bodice on, along with her belt of tools and tinctures. She wasn’t stupid enough to leave it unattended in a locker.
‘Hurry up,’ Cal’s voice carried through the changing room from outside, and Wren hurried back into the gymnasium, where Oakes was waiting.
‘I want to impress upon you the importance of today’s lesson, in light of what happened yesterday. That is why I have sought help from the very best,’ Oakes told them. ‘Someone who has fought all manner of monsters, who has emerged victorious from battle countless times...’
Wren’s nape prickled as her teacher spoke again.
‘I have asked one of our resident Warswords to assist me in today’s class.’
Wren hated the heat that crept up her neck, the way her chaotic magic thrummed insistently in her chest, as none other than Torj Elderbrock entered the gymnasium.