Chapter Five
THEA
T hea strode into the Great Hall with her head held high, relishing the stillness that fell like a blanket across the tables before her.
The first time it had happened she had stopped in her tracks, her cheeks flushing at the whispers that broke out, at the wide eyes that stared.
But now, she let them see her: the woman they’d scorned, the woman they now feared.
Magic or not, she was no ordinary Guardian of the midrealms, and they all knew it.
From across the hall, she felt Hawthorne’s searing gaze upon her, but she wouldn’t falter now – not after weeks of leaning into the reputation she’d started to build for herself here.
Resting her good hand on the hilt of Malik’s dagger and glancing at her Guardian totem to make sure it was straight, she made for her usual seat.
A few feet away, she noticed Evander, her former lover, trying to catch her eye as he made space on the bench beside him.
He’d been attempting to talk with her for a while now, but she had zero interest in anything he had to say.
She ignored him, suppressing a shudder. How she’d ever found him attractive was beyond her.
Several fellow Guardians scrambled to make sure there was enough room for her at their table. Then there was more shuffling as Cal and Kipp found their places at her sides.
‘How’d the reunion with Hawthorne go?’ Kipp asked, ignoring the stares around them and reaching for a basket of bread.
Thea waved her splinted fingers. ‘Wonderfully.’
‘Really?’
‘No.’
Beside her, Cal finished retying his chestnut hair in a short tail and laughed. ‘If he’s standing up there in one piece, I’d say it went well enough…’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Thea refused to look to the head table. Instead, she reached for Cal’s mug of peppermint tea and took a long, appreciative sip.
‘It means, dear Thea,’ Kipp replied around a mouthful of food, ‘that when we left you in the ring, you looked ready to throw your beloved mentor off a cliff.’
‘Perhaps I should have.’
‘I’m sure we’d agree with you if you just told us what happened…’ Cal ventured.
Thea hadn’t told them about her and Hawthorne. At first, it had been because she wanted to keep the secret for herself, as though it were something precious she wasn’t ready to share with the world. But after he’d left, it had become a matter of embarrassment, and so she’d said nothing about it.
She sighed and served herself several pieces of lamb, smothering them with enough gravy to make even Kipp pause. ‘Telling you won’t change anything,’ she answered. ‘But I do have to move into his cabin.’
Kipp’s eyes bulged. ‘ What? ’
‘That’s what he said.’
But Cal shrugged. ‘It makes sense. You are his apprentice, after all. You’re basically his shadow for the next year or so.’
‘Hard to be someone’s shadow when they’re not here,’ she muttered, her traitorous gaze darting to the head table.
Hawthorne sat beside Osiris, his food untouched, his large hand grasping a tankard.
His eyes flicked to her, as though he could sense her watching him.
Gods, she could still feel his phantom touch along her ribs.
Thea looked away. That crackling anger she felt was bruised with something else: hurt.
Even now it all felt so surreal. For the briefest of moments they’d been together – a team, unstoppable and fierce – only to have their connection snuffed out so suddenly.
Sometimes she wondered if she’d dreamt it.
But the surging energy between them told her otherwise, as did the kiss they’d shared during their sparring match.
She resented him with every fibre of her being, but that hatred was entangled with something else – something deeper, something darker.
‘How’s your training going?’ Thea asked the others, trying to distract herself.
‘Very interesting indeed. Esyllt, as much of a cranky bastard as he is, has been very generous in his tutelage,’ Kipp replied with a grin.
After Thea had recovered from the initiation, she had been thrilled to discover that the weapons master himself had taken Kipp on as his unofficial apprentice of strategy.
Her friend had taken to the role like a duck to water, though he resented that he still needed to maintain a certain standard of physical training as well.
‘I also had a meeting with the lovely Elwren earlier,’ he went on. ‘Can you pass the mead?’
After Thea’s so-called lesson with Audra, hearing her sister’s name aloud was like a knife to the heart. Wren wanted them to reclaim the damn throne. And for what? Hand trembling, she reached for the jug and passed it to Kipp —
Something crackled at her fingertips.
Kipp jumped, snatching his hand away as though burned. ‘Ouch!’
Suddenly queasy, Thea blinked at him. ‘What?’
‘You didn’t feel that?’ Kipp’s brows were still furrowed and he was examining his fingers. ‘Some weird static…’
Thea shook her head.
Cal gave him a sympathetic nod. ‘Hate it when that happens.’
Still looking a little bewildered, Kipp eventually just gave a sheepish laugh and shrugged.
‘What does your work with Esyllt have to do with Wren?’ Thea asked as though nothing had happened, ignoring the churning in her gut.
Kipp made a frustrated sound. ‘Can’t you two just kiss and make up already?’
‘No.’
‘Can you at least tell us what she did?’
‘No.’
Her friend shook his head and piled more food onto his plate. How he was still so slim was a wonder to them all.
Kipp motioned for Thea and Cal to lean in, lowering his voice when he spoke again. ‘The alchemists have been working on a special type of gas… They think it may be able to patch up the tears in the Veil.’
Thea’s mouth fell open. ‘Truly?’
Kipp jutted his chin towards Wren’s usual table. ‘Maybe you should talk to her about it.’
‘Maybe you should just tell me.’
But this time Kipp waved her off. ‘Can’t say more. Strategy meetings are very confidential.’
Cal rolled his eyes. ‘You couldn’t keep a secret to save your life.’
‘Nonsense. Up until a few months ago, you fools didn’t even know my real name.’
Thea kept quiet. She had enough secrets of her own to worry about. And the mention of real names sent a pulse of anxiety through her. For her friends didn’t know that Althea Zoltaire had always been a placeholder. Embervale . Althea Embervale was her true name.
A server approached, sliding a massive bowl heaped with greens in front of her. ‘For you, Guardian Zoltaire.’
Thea blinked at the pile of vegetables. ‘What?’
‘I was instructed to bring this to you specifically,’ the boy said, looking increasingly uncomfortable.
The back of Thea’s neck prickled. She glanced up at the head table, finding Hawthorne’s eyes on her again.
Beside her, Cal and Kipp were snickering.
‘You’d best eat your vegetables if you want to grow up big and strong, Thea,’ Kipp teased.
Broccoli, spinach, beans, peas and a bunch of rich foliage she didn’t have the faintest idea about. Thea ground her teeth. ‘That’s enough greens for ten men.’
The server shrugged. ‘You can expect a bowl like this every night,’ he said. ‘It was made, er… very clear to me that it’s of the utmost importance.’
Thea didn’t dare look at Hawthorne again, her cheeks flaming.
‘Will we see you tomorrow?’ Cal asked, wiping the grin off his face.
‘Depends. Will you be running laps before dawn?’
‘Definitely not,’ Kipp scoffed.
‘I’ll try,’ Cal offered.
Thea shrugged, knowing full well he wouldn’t drag himself from his bed a moment before he had to. ‘Then I guess we’ll…’
She trailed off as something – someone – caught her attention across the hall.
Sebastos Barlowe. His gaze was fixed on the Bloodletter at the head table, who was signalling something to him. After a few subtle hand gestures, Seb got up mid-meal and slipped out one of the side doors. Moments later, Vernich excused himself and left as well.
Old habits kicked in. Ignoring the eyes on her, especially the stares coming from Wren’s table, Thea left the hall.
Once, she’d made it her mission to spy on the comings and goings of Thezmarr.
She could easily make herself invisible again.
Treading on light dancer’s feet, she crept through the empty passageway, spotting Vernich’s cloak vanishing around a corner.
She made quick work of following the pair and found herself on the floor above, opposite the trophy room that housed all of Talemir Starling’s championship records. Low voices echoed down the corridor and she darted for cover under the nearest staircase.
‘What happened in the meeting?’ Seb asked eagerly.
There was a long pause. Thea’s hand drifted to the faded scar that marred the skin beneath her shirt.
‘Do you remember the prophecy?’ Vernich’s gravelly voice sounded.
‘Of course,’ Seb replied.
‘It seems that the Daughter of Darkness to which it refers has risen…’
Thea’s dinner threatened to make a reappearance. She flattened herself even further against the wall.
‘What?’ Seb blurted.
There was a noise of frustration from the Warsword. ‘Risen. Come to power. Keep up,’ he snapped. ‘She’s looking for something. Something that could change the course of fate. And I’m going to get it.’
Thea’s heart was hammering. What exactly had she stumbled across? Was Vernich in league with the supposed Daughter of Darkness? Body tensed, she strained to hear the reply.
‘— never get it to hold,’ the Warsword muttered. ‘It’s a temporary solution.’
‘Where’s the nearest tear in the Veil? Shouldn’t we go see for ourselves?’ Sebastos replied hurriedly. ‘If we leave now, no one will question our absence.’
Just the sound of him made Thea’s skin crawl.
Time and time again he’d tried to underhandedly destroy her and her friends.
The fact that he wore a Guardian totem, that he’d secured an apprenticeship, was just plain wrong.
If there was a blight on Thezmarr, it was Sebastos Barlowe.
And now, he was carrying out the orders of someone even worse.