CHAPTER 45 Wren
CHAPTER 45
Wren
‘The ripples of our discoveries can touch shores we never intended to reach’
– Elwren Embervale’s notes and observations
‘H AVE YOU BEEN to the archives yet?’ Wren asked her new friend.
Dessa shook her head. ‘Not yet. Do you want to go?’
Wren found herself draining her mug and nodding.
It was still Cal waiting for them outside the dormitory. ‘Where’s your Bear Slayer?’ Dessa whispered, as Cal stepped into place just behind them.
‘He’s not my Bear Slayer,’ Wren hissed. The self-defence lessons of that morning felt far away, like a distant recollection of the past. So much had happened in a matter of hours, and yet, she could remember the press of his body against hers, his scent wrapping around her like a drug. There was something taut between them, something that was bound to snap at any moment, and it was going to drive her to the point of insanity if she wasn’t careful.
Dessa grinned. ‘Nobody believes that for a second. Are you saying you haven’t noticed the way he looks at you?’
‘You mean like he wants to throttle me?’
‘If throttle means “fuck senseless”, then yes.’
An incredibly undignified sound escaped Wren. ‘What?’
Dessa shrugged. ‘I’m just saying.’
‘Well, don’t. He’s my bodyguard . He’s meant to watch me.’
Another wicked smile flashed across Dessa’s face. ‘It’s not the watching itself I’m commenting on, it’s how he’s watching.’
‘Shush.’ Wren elbowed her, mindful of Cal behind them.
‘Just saying,’ Dessa repeated with a wink.
A pang of grief hit Wren as she realized something about her new friend. ‘You...you remind me of my sister,’ she admitted, glancing Dessa’s way.
Dessa’s brows shot up. ‘The Warsword?’
Wren shook her head. ‘My other sister, Anya. She died during the war...But before that, she teased me about Torj as well. She was always looking to get a rise out of me.’
Her friend’s features softened. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be,’ Wren told her. ‘It would do me well to remember the good times, not just the bad.’
‘You don’t want me to stop teasing you, then?’
Wren gave a thoughtful smile. ‘Anya certainly wouldn’t.’
They passed through the foyer, noting that the black garnets in their team’s vessel had increased by six. Climbing the stairs with Cal and Dessa, Wren set her sights on the archives once more. She had been wanting to get to the ancient library since she’d arrived, knowing that the shelves there contained texts she’d only ever dreamed of reading. Thezmarr’s library had always been limited, favouring military histories and war strategy texts. During the war, she had seen the library at the University of Naarva, but it was nothing compared to the enormous space that yawned open before her now.
It was larger than any building she’d ever seen: a sprawling, hallowed hall, rich with the scent of leather and parchment, glowing with the flicker of candlelight. The towering wooden shelves were endless, stretching all the way up to the vaulted ceiling and the far reaches of the hall. Ladders on wheels lined the rows of shelving that housed thousands upon thousands of heavy volumes.
Dessa let out a low whistle. ‘Well...this is something.’
‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ Wren replied in a whisper, unable to contain her awe. She could hear the hushed murmurs of the scholars in the study nooks, and she breathed in the scent of fresh ink, the taste of discovery light on her tongue.
Knowledge is the victor over fate.
‘We should look up the previous Gauntlets,’ she told Dessa.
Her teammate nodded enthusiastically. ‘Anything that might help us prepare for the trials. Shall we start in the history section?’
‘Sounds good.’ Wren kept her voice low, conscious of the quiet that seemed to swallow up the archives. The wooden floor creaked underfoot as they moved through the entrance, Wren trying to drink it all in at once. She had never been in a single place that held so much knowledge.
They reached the start of the history section and were instantly overwhelmed. Books towered above them beyond sight; the rows beyond were countless.
‘I think we’ll need to ask someone another time...’ Wren ventured.
Relief washed over Dessa’s face. ‘Definitely.’
Cal trailed behind them as Wren and Dessa moved between the shelves, both craning their necks to get a glimpse at the forbidden masters’ section that Zavier had mentioned a while back. The section was marked by heavy iron doors, an enormous lock, and two academy librarians stationed either side. Novices weren’t permitted. Adepts and sages could only enter with written permission from one of the masters themselves.
Reluctantly, Wren and Dessa continued on.
Moonlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting a spectrum of coloured light dancing across the spines of the ancient tomes. There was no way they could peruse the entire library in an evening – it was far too vast, with far too many offshoots and different wings. But that didn’t stop them from giving it a damn good try.
‘Do they have anything like this where you’re from?’ Dessa murmured, running her fingers along the leather spines.
‘No,’ Wren replied. ‘You?’
Dessa shook her head. ‘My home was destroyed in the war, but even before...there was nothing like this.’
Wren’s heart ached for her. She had been so caught up in her own grief that she’d forgotten she wasn’t the only one who’d suffered losses. ‘I’m sorry about your home.’
Dessa gave her a sad smile. ‘We’re here now, aren’t we?’
‘We are.’ Wren surprised herself by reaching out and squeezing her friend’s hand.
Dessa squeezed it back.
For the first time in a long while, as Wren wandered the rows of books, the restlessness crawling beneath her skin quietened, as did the memories that so often rose to the surface. She lost herself in the rhythm of Dessa’s quiet stories, in the scratch of a nib on parchment, in the diligent restacking of the leather volumes by the reverent scribes pushing trolleys.
It was only when her power gave a surge of recognition that she faltered, coming to a halt between the stacks, a hand resting over her heart. She knew she was out of practice, that all those years of little use had made her control rusty, but...
‘Are you alright?’ Dessa asked, noticing the shift in her.
Wren frowned. ‘Yes, I just...’ She looked around, suddenly filled with the sensation, the knowledge, that she had to follow that pull within her, that surge of power. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’
Wren ducked between the shelves, searching – for what, she didn’t know. All she knew was that it was here somewhere, and she had to find it. Perhaps it was a volume on the Gauntlet, or something that would give her a clue as to the origins of the alchemy used against Leiko. Whatever it was, it belonged to her—
She skidded to a stop so abruptly that Cal bumped into her back.
‘What is it, Wren?’ he whispered, his voice laced with concern.
Wren peered between the stacks, her heart racing.
There, tucked away in one of the study nooks, was Torj Elderbrock. The Warsword was poring over several open books, his lantern burning low.
Cal made a noise of discomfort. ‘I don’t think we should be spying—’
‘Shhh,’ she cut him off.
Of all the places she thought she might find the Bear Slayer, the academy archives was not one of them. He was hunched over yellowed pages, his brow furrowed, a lock of silver hair falling into his eyes.
So strange, that her magic had led her here. She couldn’t seem to escape him, no matter how hard she tried. It was as though they were drawn together, over and over again.
But for once, he didn’t seem to sense her. Torj was utterly absorbed in whatever it was he was reading, rubbing the scars on his chest absentmindedly.
From afar, shielded by the bookshelf, she admired him. His powerful build, the way his lips moved as he read the text in front of him, the surprisingly straight line of his nose—
‘If you’re done gawking at him,’ Cal hissed, irritated.
‘I’m not—’
Cal scoffed. ‘Please. Mind you don’t slip in your drool on the way out.’
Wren bit back a laugh. ‘Alright then, Flaming Arrow. Lead the way.’
As they found Dessa and made their way out of the archives, with Wren a few books lighter than she would have liked, the back of her neck prickled.
She whirled around, only to find the aisle behind them completely empty.
‘Problem?’ Cal asked, instantly scanning their surroundings, alert and at the ready.
‘No problem,’ Wren told him, turning back, ignoring the strange sensation that someone was watching her. ‘Let’s just get back to my rooms. I have work to do.’
‘I thought you’d never ask,’ Cal quipped.
They left the archives and headed back to the residence halls, dropping Dessa off at her room. Dessa gave Wren a hug goodbye – a brief embrace that surprised Wren, but that she returned, her chest warming.
When it was just her and Cal, she offered him a sly grin as they turned another corner. ‘I heard the most salacious rumours in the changing rooms today...’
The Flaming Arrow looked bewildered. ‘About what?’
‘Oh, you know, about a hero of Thezmarr who has to bed five women a night just to keep the edge off.’
Cal snorted. ‘I wouldn’t believe everything you hear about the Bear Slayer.’
‘Oh, it wasn’t about him.’
‘Aren’t alchemists meant to be clever? They know Kipp’s not a Warsword, don’t they? Just a menace to society, among other things.’
‘Wasn’t about Kipp, either,’ Wren told him.
Realization dawned on Cal’s face. ‘Oh, for Furies’ sake,’ he muttered, flushing deeply. ‘That was one time. And it was only two women! I think...’
‘So it’s true?’ Wren laughed. ‘Kipp finally corrupted you, Callahan!’
‘No, I—’
But Cal’s protest was cut off by a scream.