Page 5 of Thorns & Fire
Wren pushed the loose, dishevelled hair from her eyes and glanced around at the pile of unopened letters by the door, the half-eaten bowl of stew and stale bread sitting atop her trunk of supplies...Guttering candles and a smoky oil lamp illuminated the medallion she’d won by passing the Gauntlet, discarded on the windowsill by her box of poisoner’s trinkets, long forgotten.Gods, there were even cobwebs in the corners of the room.She supposed she had let things get out of hand.
Thea wrinkled her nose at the vials of blood on her work surface.‘It’s probably not helping that you’re bloodletting yourself so regularly for these experiments.I’ve offered a million times.’
‘I’m fine, Thea.’Wren flipped through her notes again, agitated.‘For now, all I need is to get back to work.’
Wren could feel her sister’s eyes on her as she sorted through her concoctions, as she spilled more ink on her apron and as she swore under her breath...
‘It’s alright to miss him, you know,’ Thea began cautiously.
Wren’s gaze snapped up to hers.She opened her mouth—
‘Don’t you dare say “who,”’ Thea warned.
Sparks crackled at Wren’s fingertips without warning, and she fought to keep her already broken magic within the confines of her body.Now more than ever, it was a living thing inside her, as restless and chaotic as she felt, always clawing to be let loose.
‘I can feel it, you know,’ Thea commented, pinning her with a knowing look.‘The lightning singing in your veins.’
‘Of course you can feel it,’ Wren bit back.‘We’re family.We share the same blood, the same power.’
Thea raised a sceptical brow.‘Tell me you have it under control.’
‘I have it under control,’ Wren replied flatly.
‘Then why haven’t you talked about the Bear Slayer?Asked about him?’Thea pressed, her face lined with concern.‘There’s more to this than either of you are letting on, but every time he’s mentioned I can feel a storm gathering around you...’
‘Then it’s a good thing he’s far away.’Wren hated how raw her voice sounded, how vulnerable.She gestured to the potions on her bench, determined to return her focus to her work and her desperation to succeed.‘What am I supposed to do, Thea?If I can’t do this, thenwhy am I here?What’s the point?How many people will suffer?’
Thea stood, moving forwards to grip her shoulder firmly.‘The devastation will pass.I promise.I have felt those things before, and I came out the other side.You will too.You’re far from worthless.We’ve all watched you go from strength to strength.You’re allowed to wobble.You’re allowed to have a gloomy day.But this is not yourforever.This is not the day to base all other days on.’
Her sister’s words were of little comfort when Wren found herself in what remained of the great hall the next day, waiting for Farissa.Sunlight filtered through the shattered stained-glass windows, casting broken rainbows across the floor.The debris had been swept away in the wake of the battle, but the deep gouges and scorch marks remained.The hair on Wren’s nape stood on end as she anticipated the scent of smoke, only to find that it had at last cleared.But something more sinister lingered in its place: spilled blood and the potent chemical tang of a darker kind of alchemy.
I hereby pledge myself to Drevenor.
The oath danced on the tip of her tongue as she took in the torn tapestries hanging above the dais where she had graduated from novice alchemist to adept only weeks before.For a moment, she wondered if she was destined to walk among the ruins for ever.Heir to a fallen kingdom, survivor of a war-torn fortress, student of a ravaged academy...Perhaps she was cursed.
When Farissa approached, she was sure of it.‘I cannot hold them off any longer, Elwren.The masters want answers.Thezmarr and the rulers want answers.How soon until the elixir is ready to replicate?’
Wren tried not to let her shoulders cave in.She fought desperately to keep her throat from closing as she met her former mentor’s gaze.‘Farissa, I—’
But her voice cracked.Horror filled her as burning tears blurred her vision and her storm magic surged, as though it sensed the fracture in her armour.She felt lightning beneath her skin, a current she could surrender to so that the maelstrom of the past, her failings of the present, couldn’t drag her down, couldn’t break her apart.
Of all things, it washisvoice that came to her, that filled her mind.
‘We survived.You and me.Together.’
A gentle hand guided her by her elbow.‘Come with me, Elwren.’
In the more intimate setting of Farissa’s private quarters, seated at the small table by the bookshelves, the older woman said with unflinching frankness, ‘You’ve been unable to replicate it, haven’t you?’
Steeling herself against any further emotional breakdown, Wren gave a single nod of confirmation, shame flaming her cheeks.
If Farissa was shocked or angry, she didn’t show it.Instead, she sighed.‘Drevenor demands a lot from its students.You more than most.Alchemy is all about transformation, knowledge and learning, and somewhere along the way, I have failed to guide you.’
‘Farissa, it’s not your fault—’
The older woman silenced her with a look.‘You have been treated like a sage here, when you are but a newly graduated adept.I think because of the war I forget how young you are.’
‘I’m thirty—’
