Chapter Eleven
THEA
T hankfully it was too early for even Evander to be tending to the stalls and polishing the tack when Thea arrived to saddle her horse.
There wasn’t even a hint of the dawn to come over the treeline, just the bright crescent moon amid the inky black above, highlighting the jagged lines of the mountains beyond.
Checking her cinch, Thea shoved away any lingering feelings of guilt about not checking with Hawthorne about today.
He’d figure it out soon enough – and if he panicked over her whereabouts?
It would serve him right. Perhaps it was her turn to jerk him around.
After last night, she wasn’t sure where they stood.
His words said one thing, but his actions…
His actions had left her in pleasure-soaked pieces.
It remains as it was, he’d said. But whatever it was between them was anything but clear.
Her stomach fluttered at the memory of his mouth on her, of his tongue… No one had ever pleasured her like that before. No one had —
Thea shook her head. Now was certainly not the time and place to reminisce about what the Warsword’s tongue was capable of doing between her legs.
Especially not a Warsword who behaved like a bastard afterwards.
No, she would focus on the task at hand, on the first solo mission she and her friends had been granted as Guardians of the midrealms.
She led her mare from the stall and removed the splints from her fingers, flexing her hand. On the mend , she decided, satisfied. Thankfully, her ribs were much better as well; she mounted up with only a faint twinge of pain.
Head held high, Thea rode to the northern gate, where Cal and Kipp were waiting.
Kipp beamed at the sight of her before throwing his hand out to Cal. ‘That’s three gold to me, my friend.’
Cal clicked his tongue in frustration. ‘I told you I wasn’t taking the bet.’
‘Nonsense. I called it.’
‘I didn’t say you didn’t call it, I said I didn’t take the bet,’ Cal replied.
Kipp waved him off. ‘I’ll collect later, then.’ Atop his horse, he opened his arms wide in a dramatic greeting. ‘Welcome, Thea!’
Thea snorted. ‘You knew I’d come.’
‘Of course I knew,’ Kipp declared. ‘Callahan here doubted you, but I —’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, Kipp,’ Cal snapped. ‘Can we get on with it, or what?’
Kipp had the audacity to look offended. He motioned to Thea and her mare. ‘After you, wraith slayer.’
Thea couldn’t help smiling as she urged her horse forward.
‘Thank the Furies you’re here,’ Cal muttered as she passed.
Thea didn’t know why it felt natural for her to take the lead, even though it was really Cal and Kipp’s mission.
But it didn’t seem to bother either of them in the slightest. Perhaps her reputation as a wraith slayer preceded her, or perhaps they just recognised she was as competent as any of them.
Still, it made warmth swell in her chest. She had come a long way since those initial days as a shieldbearer at Thezmarr.
They all had. Pride bloomed as she glimpsed their Guardian totems strapped to their arms: the tokens they had fought tooth and nail to earn in the initiation test, the pair of crossed swords that marked their official entry into the guild of warriors.
They rode beyond the fortress walls before the first rays of dawn broke through the darkness, and by the time the rose gold and orange hues illuminated the sky, they were on the coastal trail north. The trio rode close together so they could chat over the steady hoofbeats across the dirt path.
‘Vernich tried to petition that Barlowe join us for this trip,’ Cal confided in Thea.
She twisted in her saddle, brows shooting up. ‘He didn’t.’
But Cal was nodding. ‘Reckoned that if we were going, his apprentice ought to as well.’
‘How’d you get out of that?’ she asked.
‘Torj,’ Kipp supplied. ‘He put his foot down, apparently. Said that there was bad blood between us all and it would compromise the mission.’
‘I was telling the story,’ Cal muttered. ‘You weren’t even there.’
‘Well, go on, then,’ Kipp said, reaching across to clap his friend on the shoulder.
Cal shook his head in disbelief before addressing Thea again. ‘I’ve never seen Torj like that. He was ready to hurl the Bloodletter across the room. Or clobber him with his war hammer.’
‘He defended you that furiously?’ Thea asked.
‘Hawthorne would do the same for you,’ Cal replied.
Vernich’s bloody, swollen face flashed in Thea’s mind: the justice Hawthorne had delivered to his fellow Warsword upon hearing of his role in her and Kipp’s near-fatal injuries.
‘I know,’ she murmured.
Cal shifted in his saddle. ‘Torj said he might be able to arrange it so that I can visit my family in the spring.’
Thea’s eyes went wide. In the early days of their friendship, Cal had told her that he’d come to Thezmarr as a teenager, leaving behind three sisters in his homeland. ‘Really? That’s amazing, Cal. How long’s it been since you went home?’
‘Years… It will be strange to see them again. If this comes to pass.’
‘I’m sure it will,’ Thea reassured him. ‘Torj is a good man. If he says he’ll make it happen, he will. I’m happy for you.’
‘Thanks.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Does it make you think you should make up with Wren?’
Thea huffed a laugh. ‘Not quite. But nice try.’
A few feet behind them, Kipp cleared his throat. ‘Who put this in my pocket?’ he asked loudly, fishing a flask from the inside of his cloak.
Thea exchanged an amused look with Cal. ‘It’s barely dawn…’
‘Exactly. It’s practically night still.’ He took a swig from the vessel and leant forward to hand it to Thea.
She laughed. ‘Suppose it’ll keep us warm,’ she said, taking a measured sip.
‘Kipp…’ Cal ventured, clearly conflicted. ‘This is a serious mission.’
‘No one’s forcing you, Callahan. Suit yourself. Thea and I will share.’
‘I didn’t say I didn’t want any —’
‘Funny, that’s exactly what your words sounded like to me,’ Kipp teased.
But Thea took pity on Cal and handed him the flask. ‘What do you know about this so-called mission, anyway?’
Cal winced at the taste of the liquor and passed it back to Kipp before speaking again. ‘Only that there was some sort of disturbance reported up the north coast. A ship lingering close to the Veil. We’re to find it and observe it.’
Thea blinked. ‘That’s it?’
‘That’s it. Torj and Esyllt were very clear about the orders. Under no circumstances are we to take any action or interfere in any way.’
Thea rolled her eyes. ‘You made this sound much more adventurous last night.’ She hadn’t realised how much she’d been anticipating some action, the opportunity to swing her sword and fell some enemies. The encounter with Hawthorne had left her more restless than before…
‘Thea, every day is an adventure with us,’ Kipp reassured her with a wink.
Though day had broken on the horizon, the once promising rays of the sun had weakened, offering a grey and moody morning. As they rode north, the seas to the left of their cliffside path grew darker, the waves in the distance reaching the clouds above.
A bark sounded from behind them and Thea jumped, spotting a big black dog bounding after them.
She beamed. ‘Dax!’
Cal watched the mongrel warily. ‘Is this the same beast that watched over you in the dorms?’
‘Sure is,’ Thea said, watching Dax overtake them and dart through the rocks ahead. ‘He’s Malik’s dog.’
‘Malik?’
‘Hawthorne’s brother. He’s the former Warsword who lives at the fortress.’
‘I didn’t know Hawthorne had a brother,’ Kipp said, frowning.
‘Nor did I, until we travelled back from Harenth. But I’ve been friends with Malik for ages.’
‘Isn’t he the big fellow who doesn’t speak?’ Cal asked.
Thea shrugged. ‘He doesn’t need to speak.’
Cal nodded. ‘Fair enough.’
A thunderous rumble from out to sea snatched her attention away. Across the expanse of dark water was the Veil, towering taller than ever, a wall of roiling mist descending from the sky, where a storm brewed.
‘We should get moving,’ Thea warned, trying to ignore the spark of interest from her magic.
Her hand went to her fate stone, checking it was still there.
For so long, Thea had resented its existence, and now she sought its comfort, hoping it would continue to repress the magic that threatened to spill out of her.
She pushed ahead, following the swish of Dax’s tail around each bend in the path, leaning forward in the saddle to make things a little easier for her mare as the incline increased.
But there was no ignoring the storm that broke out across the sea.
Thunder and lightning cleaved through the air, and Thea could only close her eyes and brace herself against the onslaught on her senses, and the way it called to the crackle of magic in her veins.
She forced herself to inhale deeply through her nose, and exhale through her mouth. The same technique Hawthorne’s little list of exercises specified for calming the mind before a battle. But it was no use —
The storm dragged her under.
* * *
A girl, no older than twelve, stood on the edge of a cliff, looking out to the raging sea below. She wore a patch over her right eye, while her matted copper hair whipped around her face in the wind.
Anya.
She faced the bleak horizon, as though something she desperately sought was somewhere out there, waiting for her. The girl’s clothes were little more than tattered rags on her too-thin body, her feet bare. She inched towards the rocky edge.
Thea’s heart seized. She’s going to jump.
But the girl didn’t take another step. Her knees didn’t bend in preparation for her final leap.
She simply stood on the edge, as though she belonged there, as though she had lived on the precipice of death her whole life.
Thunder clapped in the distance, and the girl didn’t so much as flinch.
But her gaze flicked to where Thea stood.
As though for a moment, in the flash of lightning, she’d seen Thea too.
* * *