Page 135 of Silver & Smoke
The downpour came in stinging sheets, a torrent she could hardly see through. As the drops hit the vapour, the alchemy hissed again, retreating into the rubble. But that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. Wren needed to cleanse her kingdom of this poison. She needed to flood its ruins and flush out the evil that had infiltrated her birthright.
Wren stood in the Delmirian soil, her rain flowing across the rubble, washing away the blood and debris. Everything else faded away, becoming a blur as her power surged around her. She could feel Thea’s magic too, steady and solid beside her own, remnants of Anya’s power echoing between them as well. It was as though the three Embervale sisters fought together once more.
Silas’s scream of rage sounded, as did the cries of his men as they fell, but Wren didn’t stop.
In the distance, she felt Thea’s magic surging against the forces at the perimeter, heard the clash of steel once more as the battle raged on outside the would-be throne room. She flung out a hand, more lightning shooting from her palm this time, thunder clapping overhead—
Pain flared at her knees and she whirled around to see Torj keeled over in the ruins, broken stone and glass beneath him, his shoulders caving in.Hispain. Wren forgot all else as she saw the laboured rise and fall of his chest.
She ceased her lightning assault, ducking and dodging several flying vials as she lunged for the Bear Slayer, her heart in her throat.
‘Torj,’ she panted, wrenching the arrows from him, trying to cauterize the wounds with her magic. ‘Don’t you dare—’
‘Embers,’ he murmured as the traces of lightning at her bloody fingertips kissed his skin.
‘Together.’ Wren held out her hand. ‘Let’s end him together.’
They locked eyes, and Wren’s breath caught in her throat as their fingers entwined and a bolt of energy burst through her. Throughhim.
‘Wren...’ Torj’s voice was weak, but full of wonder.
The gold thread of their bond flared between them, but its usual warm glow shifted... transmuting, like metal changing in a crucible.
A scream echoed across the battlefield. Wren looked up as something hurtled towards them – alchemy, full of shadow and darkness. She clutched Torj to her. If this was to be the end, then she could make her peace with dying at Torj Elderbrock’s side, with his hand in hers.
Glass exploded. Dark alchemy surged, and the scent of burnt hair filled her nostrils as she recognized the lashes of shadow from the previous war. The horrors of it began to flash before her, over and over again, the screams piercing enough to make ears bleed—
‘Embers...’ Torj’s voice brought her back, no longer shaky, but husky and rich. Momentarily blinded, her eyes stung as she blinked, tears spilling down her cheeks as the gold of their soul bond bled away...
Giving way to a pure, brilliant silver.
The soul bond pulsed at their joined hands, a cord stronger than ever, wrapping around them both in intricate swirls. Wren could feel Torj’s strength flowing into her, not just the borrowed power of the Furies, but his veryessence– his unwavering loyalty, his fierce protection, his absolute devotion. She poured herself into the bond in return – not only her storm magic, but the love she had for him, the determination in her heart. All the while, the bond bloomed around them.
Shadow alchemy collided with silver.
And shattered.
A choked sound escaped Silas. But understanding flooded through Wren.
Gold will turn to silver in a blaze of iron and embers... giving rise to ancient power long forgotten.
The prophecy that had haunted her since the last war. Not just the joining of power, but its transformation into something new,somethinggood.The silver light pulsed between queen and Warsword, like a map of stars in the night sky.
The silver bond between them wasn’t just combining their powers – it was purifying them. Like the most complex distillation she’d ever attempted, it burned away everything corrupt. Wren could feel Torj’s heart beating in sync with hers, could feel his breath in her lungs and his strength in her bones.
‘How can this be?’ she murmured. ‘The silvertide roses are gone. There is no more cure...’
But what the roses would have done through slow healing, their bond was doing in an instant – transforming something rotten into something pure, shadow into light.
Torj was pulling her to her feet, strong and steady, which was more than she could say for herself. With his wounds magically healed, he pressed a hand to his chest in wonder, blinking slowly as he examined his other hand, which no longer shook.
‘The poison’s gone,’ he said, his gaze meeting hers once more, his sea-blue eyes bright. ‘The roses were never the cure. It was always you...’
The realization settled into her bones with the weight of ancient truth. All this time searching for something external, when the answer had lived within her all along. Not just her alchemy or her storm magic, but something deeper – the capacity to love fiercely enough to transform darkness itself. A power older than kingdoms or wars. Wren felt both humbled and strengthened by the knowledge, even as the world around them continued to burn.
Projectiles of dark alchemy came for them and broke against the silver light of their bond, which engulfed them both completely now. Wren could feel the wildness of her storms and Torj’s Furies-given strength reinforcing their silver shield, the light shimmering as the enemy’s attacks dissipated upon contact.
Around them, she saw the allies who’d rallied to her cause – Queen Reyna’s forces from Aveum, who’d braved a deadly snowstorm to cross the midrealms and fight; soldiers from Harenth, who hadmore reason than most to distrust a royal, whose towns and villages had been the targets of the People’s Vanguard campaigns; as well as the warriors of Thezmarr and Talemir’s shadow-touched, who had thought they’d seen their last war. Everyone she cared for still fought in the heart of the fray, caked with blood and gore, never once wavering.
