C H A P T E R T H I R T Y- O N E
wo days.T Two days until the test that would determine if Thea and her friends were worthy of the Thezmarrian warrior title.
Thea used the pandemonium that had broken out across the hall to slip away from her table.
Standing on the outskirts of the chaos, she scanned the sea of shieldbearers and fortress staff for Cal and Kipp. They should have all been together for the news, and they needed to be together now, to process it, to come up with some sort of plan of attack. Kipp would no doubt have a strategy. They had to be ready. They would leave no man – or woman – behind.
So where are they?
Then it hit her: they had thought the same thing and had snuck away to meet her. Relief surging through her, Thea ducked from the hall, glad to escape the chaos. She made for the dormitories, imagining Kipp and Cal waiting to dissect the news with her.
Together they had taken on the most demanding training programs in the midrealms, they had faced down the cruelty of Vernich the Bloodletter and they had braced their shields against the attack of a rheguld reaper, a master – a king – of shadow wraiths… A trial would be easy, wouldn’t it?
Thea burst into the dormitories, her pep talk at the ready, determination gleaming in her eyes —
The room was empty.
There was no sign of Cal or Kipp.
Rubbing the back of her neck, Thea paced. Had she misjudged things? She checked the other rooms – also empty. Was there a place she’d forgotten about? Perhaps the armoury? She hadn’t considered it initially because in the middle of winter, the armoury was freezing. But if they weren’t here… She snatched up her thicker fur cloak and made for the door, a roiling sensation churning her stomach.
Dismissing the feeling as nerves for the impending trial, Thea hurried along the corridor, her sense of urgency growing with every step. But upon hearing voices around the next corner, she slowed to a halt just before the bend. ‘ — idea of a sick prank, apparently…’ It was Torj, his voice lowered. ‘But with what we’ve seen lately… We need to get them back. They’re our responsibility.’ ‘We never asked for that responsibility,’ came Hawthorne’s harsh response.
Thea steadied herself against the cold stone wall, her heart racing as she crept forward. ‘It comes with the territory,’ Torj snapped back. ‘We are protectors of the midrealms, all of the
midrealms, including Thezmarr. We cannot just leave —’
‘Have the offenders go find them.’ ‘They’re denying all involvement.’ Thea’s skin was crawling, blood rushing to her ears as suspicion took hold. There was only one bastard that came to mind. ‘Of course they are. Throw them to Vernich. He’ll beat it out of them.’ ‘You and I don’t work like that, Wilder. And Vernich has his favourites.’ ‘You know nothing of how I work, Torj, besides that I work alone. And this is why. You cannot trust anyone. Nor can you rely on anyone.’ Torj’s next words were quieter, so much so that Thea had to creep even closer to the corner of the
corridor to hear them.
When she did, she wished she hadn’t. ‘It’s Callahan Whitlock and Kristopher Snowden…’ Torj said.
Thea’s knees buckled, her hand flying to her chest that suddenly felt too tight.
A heavy silence followed and Thea dug her fingertips into the wall, desperate to latch onto something that would keep her upright.
At last, Hawthorne spoke. ‘How do you know?’ ‘Someone reported it. One of the younger shieldbearers broke the code. He said it was going too far, that it went beyond the usual shieldbearer hazing.’ ‘And yet he couldn’t say where they’ve been taken?’ ‘No. The others sensed his hesitation. They knocked him out cold. I only found him in the stables
just now.’ Hawthorne swore viciously. ‘It sounds bad,’ Torj said. ‘But I haven’t the faintest idea where to start.’ Thea swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped around the corner, coming face to face with both Warswords. ‘I do.’ Hawthorne swore again, pinching the bridge of his nose and pacing a few steps away, but Torj turned to her. ‘Do you have something to do with this?’ ‘You think I would ever hurt Cal and Kipp?’ The words flew out of her mouth in anger before she realised who she was speaking to.
But Torj was shaking his head. ‘No, no, I don’t… But you know where they are?’ As she’d been eavesdropping, Seb Barlowe’s face kept flashing before her. He was the main offender for everything, and he had apparent immunity because of his uncle’s relationship with the Guild Master. She had hardly seen him since their return, chalking it up to a silent truce between them.
After all, she had saved his life from the reaper, some naïve part of her had thought he was exercising some humility. But she should have known that humility was not, and would never be, in Seb Barlowe’s nature. Instead, he had seen her actions as a form of humiliation, a questioning of his own warrior prowess… and had been biding his time ever since.
His words echoed in her mind now: ‘A series of caves in the black mountains that flood every winter with the storms. Lightning isn’t supposed to strike the same place twice, but those caves… Lightning strikes there every season, in exactly the same place… There are dozens of skeletons up there… It's where the Thezmarrian warriors tied up the whores they no longer wanted.’ And that was exactly the sort of location he’d take any captives; a place he deemed an embarrassment, a place of death for lowly women and whores, not men. For whatever reason, Seb
had been unable to get to her, so he had gone for the next best thing.
That bastard, she cursed. I should have let the reaper have him, I should have let him die. If her friends were hurt, that would be the fate that awaited him. ‘Althea?’ Torj prompted. ‘It’s a guess,’ she admitted. ‘But I think Seb took them to the caves in the black mountains, the ones that flood every —’ ‘Winter storm,’ Hawthorne finished for her. He was already moving, Torj right alongside him.
Thea darted after them. ‘Gods,’ Torj muttered as they ran towards the stables. ‘It was me who gave them the fucking idea.’ He shook his head. ‘There’s two trails up to the caves. They could have taken either.’ Hawthorne nodded. ‘We split up. I’ll take the northern path, you take the southern and we meet at
the caves.’ ‘I’ll tell the Guild Master —’ ‘No time,’ Hawthorne snapped. ‘Plus, the king is here. We don’t want him involved.’ Thea’s blood went cold as she chased after them. When she had first met Kipp, she had thought he would be her downfall, but it was she who would be the end of him if she didn’t get to those caves. It was hard to run with the world suddenly closing in around her, as every moment where she had antagonised Seb flashed before her eyes. This was her fault. Her friends could die because of her.
And she could not, would not, allow that to happen.
She charged into the stables, close on the heels of the Warswords, only to be wrenched from the ground and slammed into the wall. ‘What in the name of all the gods do you think you’re doing?’ Hawthorne snarled, the front of her shirt curled in his fist.
Thea threw herself into action, disengaging his grip on her and shoving him back.
He looked almost surprised. ‘I’m going with you,’ Thea said fiercely. ‘Not a chance, Alchemist.’ But Thea was done with listening, was done with men underestimating her and telling her what to do. She squared up and took a step towards the Warsword, nothing but fire in her eyes. ‘Try and stop me.’ ‘Hawthorne?’ Torj peered out from one of the stalls, his brows raising in surprise at the sight of
her. ‘What are you doing here, Althea?’ ‘I’m getting my friends back.’ Fury blazed in Hawthorne’s silver eyes. ‘I’m not letting some reckless shieldbearer accompany me to the Black fucking Mountains —’ Thea whirled to face him, fury of her own crackling in her veins. ‘You told me to find friends in this fortress, to get myself a team,’ she snarled. ‘And I did that. Cal and Kipp are it. They’re the people I trust more than anyone in this godsforsaken place. And I’m going to get them back, with or without you.’ ‘Alchemist…’ Hawthorne warned, his voice low. ‘My name is Thea,’ she interjected angrily, ‘whether or not you have the balls to say it. And answer me this: haven’t you ever wanted to protect someone?’ she argued. ‘Would you deny me that?’ Torj watched on, his horse forgotten. ‘I’d wager he’s trying to protect someone right now…’ he murmured.
But Thea ignored the Bear Slayer and focused solely on the Warsword whose path seemed
entwined with her own.
His expression darkened for a moment, a muscle flickering in his jaw.
Thea held her breath as the Warsword closed the last few inches of space between them.
He leaned in, closer and closer to her — The slide of steel sounded.
He drew a sword from the rack on the wall behind her and pressed it into her hands. ‘You tell no one what happens here,’ he said quietly. ‘No one,’ she agreed, her fingers curling around the hilt.
Torj cleared his throat loudly as he mounted his horse. ‘Right. Now that’s settled…’ Thea and Hawthorne sprung apart.
The golden-haired warrior eyed them warily as he strapped his war hammer across his back. ‘I’ll meet you at the caves.’ And with that, he nudged his stallion towards the gates and left them to it.
Together, Warsword and shieldbearer saddled their horses in silence, strapped on their weapons, and rode quietly into the night.
Even in the moonlight, Thea recognised the path almost at once. It was the one she had so often climbed to the cliffs, before Hawthorne had caught her with her dagger, before everything had changed. It led to the spot from which she had watched Hawthorne’s return to Thezmarr, and imagined herself the stuff of legends.
On horseback, they covered the forest portion of the trail quickly and the hair on the back of Thea’s neck prickled. The terrain inclined and grew rockier, the winter winds snarled around the mountains and the cliffs, cutting through every layer of clothing Thea wore. She grit her teeth and cursed silently as the skies opened up, sending down a steady sheet of icy rain. ‘They’ll die if we don’t find them,’ she heard herself say. ‘We’ll find them,’ came Hawthorne’s reply. ‘We’ll get them back.’ Warsword and shieldbearer continued up the mountains in the dark, passing the cliff where Hawthorne had first caught her spying. Thick black clouds covered the moon and there was not a star in sight, but Thea could hear the roar of the waves, unable to stop the shudder that wracked her body as she recalled how high they could soar before they crashed. With her reins clutched tightly in one hand, Thea used the other to rummage through her cloak for her fate stone. The piece of jade, smaller than the head of a teaspoon, offered both curse and comfort.
The horses took them higher still. Up on the edges of the mountains, the wind was so sharp it cut like glass, and one wrong step would spell doom. She held the stone tighter. That would not be her destiny. Not today.
The sound of the waves grew louder and, having seen them touch the clouds before, Thea pictured them barrelling into the side of the mountain, flooding whatever cave her friends had been abandoned in. With another shiver, she urged her horse to quicken the pace as much as the perilous terrain would allow.
The steady sheet of rain hammered down on them with renewed vigour, now torrential. Lightning lit up the sky, shooting a jagged bolt into the raging black currents that surged at the base of the cliffs and lapped at the mountainside.
The spray of the sea hit Thea and she tasted salt on her lips, panic gripping her heart in an iron fist. How flooded was the cave already? How long had Kipp and Cal been subjected to its torture? ‘There!’ Hawthorne shouted above the howling wind.
Thea squinted through the downpour and the dark, only just able to make out a narrow fissure on the cliff's side.
‘We have to leave the horses,’ he called, swinging himself down from his stallion. ‘They’ll run!’ ‘Here!’ His hands reached up, encircling her waist, helping her down as more lightning flashed around them, followed by the near-deafening crack of thunder. Once her feet were planted on the wet rock path, he took her reins.
He loosely tied the horses to an overhanging branch. ‘If they’re spooked, it’s best they break free rather than hurt themselves,’ he told her.
The beasts were frightened, but at Hawthorne’s touch, they seemed to understand it was safest to stay put.
Thea was already heading towards the cave. Water poured down either side, a river flowing into
the darkness beyond.
‘Cal!’ she shouted. ‘Kipp?’ There was no answer.
Hawthorne was beside her in a second, striking a flint to a torch. Without another word, she took it from him and lunged for the entrance — His hand wrapped around her arm, water sluicing down his face. ‘Are you mad?’ he yelled. ‘Are you so desperate to throw yourself in harm’s way?’ He pushed her aside and reclaimed the torch, entering the cave first.
Swearing, Thea followed closely behind, and let out a sharp breath when she found herself thigh- deep in an icy swell as they descended into the hollow.
Even in the cave’s shelter, the noise from the storm outside rattled her teeth, the thunder echoing off the wet walls. ‘Cal? Kipp?’ she shouted again, her voice hoarse.
All manner of filth floated around them, but Thea kept her focus forward, scanning the strange grotto for any sign of her friends. Hawthorne’s torch illuminated stalactites hanging like daggers from the ceiling and a series of what looked to be claw marks on the walls.
They rounded a bend, the water climbing up their bodies at an alarming rate. It now reached
Thea’s waist — A strangled gasp escaped her.
Ahead, two limp bodies swung suspended by their wrists over a hollow. Their heads hung to their chests.
Thea heard the scream, the sound echoing through the cavern, but she didn’t register that it had come for her own mouth as she rushed towards her friends, water swelling around her.
Where they were hung, the water was up to their shoulders, but their hair was drenched, which meant the flood had been hammering them for some time. ‘No, no, no,’ she murmured, now swimming out to them.
The surge beside her told her that Hawthorne was with her, the glow of the torch left somewhere behind, but she ploughed ahead, desperate to reach her friends.
She wasn’t the strongest swimmer and the weight of her clothes and the sword at her back dragged her down, but the terror that gripped Thea by the throat was unlike anything she had ever experienced and it fed strength to every part of her, fuelling her as she carved through the water.
With a sob, at last she closed her hand around Cal’s leg beneath the surface and Hawthorne reached Kipp beside her. ‘Cal,’ she spluttered. ‘Cal, look at me, please.’ His eyes remained closed.
Thea looked around desperately. Neither she nor Hawthorne could reach their binds from below,
but there had to be a way — ‘There!’ she shouted.
A ledge in the rocky walls stood out to her, and she swam to it. It took every ounce of strength to haul herself up, water pouring from her clothes, threatening to pull her back into the swell. But Thea dug her fingers into the rock, finding purchase with her wet boots as well. Pressing herself against the jagged surface, she inched towards the ledge, heart in her throat. She didn’t take her eyes off her friends. How long had they been here? How much suffering had they endured? Thea pushed the thoughts from her mind. Her sole purpose was to get them out of this torture chamber – to make sure they survived.
Unsheathing her sword, she crept along the shelf, realising too late that the ropes were too far out for her to reach. ‘You’ll have to jump,’ Hawthorne called. ‘And fast - the water’s getting higher!’ Both ropes that held her friends hung a few feet out from the ledge. She would have to slice through Kipp’s rope and then Cal’s on the way down.
One shot, she realised. That’s all I have. If I miss, the cave might be flooded by the time I get back up here again.
A vision of Cal and Kipp’s drowned bodies drifting beneath the water flashed before her. ‘You can do this,’ came Hawthorne’s voice, strong and sturdy.
Thea shoved the fear down and eyed the two lengths of taut rope before her, gripping her sword.
One shot, she told herself, backing up a few paces.
She ran and leapt.
Time slowed as her feet left solid ground, her sword slicing through the air with her. For a moment it felt as though she wasn’t falling, instead suspended above her dying friends, her weapon poised to strike — But suddenly wind rushed beneath her and her blade carved through one rope, then two, and she was plunging back towards the water below.
She heard two distinct splashes before she hit the surface.
Thea went under.
Icy water swallowed her, dragging her down. She hadn’t realised how deep it was, her feet yet to touch the bottom. Still gripping her sword, she kicked and kicked hard. Cal and Kipp were up there.
She had to see them home, see them safe and well. Her lungs were burning as she fought her way to the top, at last breaking through with a ragged gasp.
In the lone torchlight, she could see Hawthorne hauling her friends from the water with his formidable strength, neither of them conscious. When her boots met the rising incline, she staggered towards them, her waterlogged clothes weighing her down with every step. ‘Alchemist,’ Hawthorne’s voice commanded, and her head whipped around to face him. ‘It’s getting worse,’ he told her, motioning to the water still rising at their feet and the roar of the waves outside. ‘We have to get out of here before we all go under.’ As if in response, a brilliant flash of light lit up the cave and the rumble of the storm outside shook the walls.
Hawthorne hauled Cal over his shoulder and supported Kipp as Thea looped his limp arm around
her, struggling beneath his tall frame. ‘Hurry.’ Together, Thea and Hawthorne carried the shieldbearers from the depths of the flooded cave,
water sloshing at their knees, hiding the obstacles in the terrain until they were stumbling over them.
Every muscle in Thea’s body burned as she helped drag Kipp through the cavern, his soaked, unconscious body heavier with each desperate step. ‘Come on, Kipp,’ she muttered. ‘I’ve got you. We’re gonna get out of here.’ A wave surged into the cave, nearly knocking Thea off her feet, but Hawthorne braced himself behind her, preventing her from being swept away. She steeled herself against the impact, as hard as any blow, salt water stinging her eyes and filling her nose and mouth.
Coughing and spluttering, she gritted her teeth and took another step forward. ‘We’ve got you, Kipp,’ she rasped as Hawthorne took more of his weight.
At last, the entrance came into view, and Thea prayed the horses were still there. If they weren’t… If they weren’t, Cal and Kipp were done for.
Hawthorne waited for her to right herself; with Cal draped over his shoulder, his feet dangling and Kipp braced against his other side, the Warsword was the image of strength and endurance. ‘Horses?’ Thea gasped, scanning the dark cliffs wildly. ‘Are the —’ A bolt of lightning split the black sky in two, shooting down to the storm-ravaged earth, to Thea.
Shoving Kipp into Hawthorne, she had no time to leap from its path, not even a second to shield her eyes from the blazing light and force of it. She only threw her hands up instinctually, as though that could somehow save her.
All she saw was white, blindingly bright.
The impact didn’t hurt.
Its current shuddered through the mountain at her feet, through her — And her whole body sang in recognition.
Thea staggered beneath the weight of it. She knew this feeling, knew this power… She fell to her knees.
Suddenly, thunder clapped in the strike’s wake, echoing deep in Thea’s bones, and she gasped for air.
The tempest raged around them, the wind lashing like a whip, the rain as sharp as shards of glass.
Thea’s whole being surged as another streak of brilliant white light cut a pathway through the sky, a jagged, forked network of power that suspended the chaos surging over the seas.
And then, the entire storm retreated, leaving the glowing orb of the moon and the stars illuminating the now quiet, rocky mountain.
In a heap, Thea panted, her ears ringing as she saw where the lightning had struck, finding a black scorch mark visible even on the wet stone at her knees. She shuddered and lifted her gaze to find silver eyes upon her.
With Cal still hanging limply over his shoulder and Kipp clutched to his side, Hawthorne took a step towards her, peering into her face as though he were seeing her for the first time. ‘You should be dead,’ he murmured.
Thea’s heart was hammering so hard she thought it might break through her chest and she tried to ignore the strange, flickering sensation in her veins. ‘I… I know,’ she said, out to the glass-like surface of the sea.
But Hawthorne hadn’t taken his eyes off her. ‘What are — Who… Who are you?’
