Page 136 of Silver & Smoke
Silas’s voice drifted through the smoke.
‘You pretend you’re not like me. But you are – you’reexactlylike me. We both know that true power is taken, that it requires sacrifice.’
As love for her friends, her family and for Torj filled Wren’s heart, the soul bond erupted outwards – not just in their defence, but in attack, moving like liquid, cutting through the tainted alchemy and magic surrounding them.
Wren’s hand remained firmly in Torj’s as she spoke. ‘Sacrifice, perhaps,’ she said. ‘But true power isn’t taken. It isgiven.’
She could feel Silas’s attempts to summon their magic and strength around him, but it wasn’t working. Not how it had before. His strategy had always been to drain others, to take what wasn’t his – first the strength of Warswords and other rulers, then Delmira and eventually all of the midrealms. But the silver bond between Wren and Torj was something he couldn’t corrupt or consume.
Wren threw herself into one last attack: a blaze of brilliant white light, of silver and smoke.
Alchemist fought alchemist. Storm wielder fought summoner. And Wren gave everything she had.
Silas could no longer summon magic from others, so he summoned anything and everything else, throwing boulders, discarded debris and whatever else he could at them with all his might.
Gasps of horror sounded from the ranks around them, for the People’s Vanguard hadn’t been able to see the sovereign magic for themselves – until now.
A mass of stonework shot through the air by Silas’s hand,crashing before Wren and Torj with a near-deafening crack, shaking the earth beneath them.
‘At last, you’re showing them who you truly are, Your Highness,’ Wren called, throwing another bolt of lightning in retaliation. ‘Silas isn’t your true name, is it? For all your hatred and warmongering over royals,you are one, Andor Terling. Prince of Naarva.’
The thud of weapons hitting the ground echoed across the battlefield as members of the People’s Vanguard dropped them in shock. Their forces separated as they edged back, further and further, until they were almost in full retreat, their faces etched with horror.
Wren had many faults, she knew, but one thing she had in this gods-forsaken war was that she’d been herself, in the end. Alchemist. Poisoner. Storm wielder. Engaged to a nobleman. Married to a Warsword.Thatwas what she had written to the people of the midrealms aboardTheFuries’ Will. She had told them her story, and Kipp had ensured that it reached every corner of the midrealms.
With everything she had, she had told the truth.
Silas had not.
And now, as her storm raged on, flooding the ruins of Dorinth and washing away whatever trance Silas had cast over the common folk with his shadow alchemy, the people of the midrealms saw the truth with horrifying clarity.
Some Silas had manipulated in their moments of need and desperation. Others he had drugged with dark alchemy, filling them with cravings for violence and blood.
Their loved ones had died for his cause. In his name.
And it was all a lie.
Fury flashed across Silas’s face. ‘An entire kingdom fell because of your mother’s selfishness,’ he spat. ‘You Embervales always win, don’t you? Even now, when justice should prevail. Your mother had a choice! She swore an oath to protect us – an oath sealed in blood between friends. But when the darkness came, she chose only Delmira. My mother begged her... and Brigh turned away. Do you know what it’s like to watch everything you love wither?Every Naarvian child who starved, every village razed – their blood stains your family’s lands. Whatever happens to me, the people will remember:yourfamily’s legacy is built on betrayal.’
‘I hadnolegacy until now, Silas,’ Wren shouted. ‘Delmira suffered just as Naarva did – more so! It was a barren wasteland and fellbeforeyour kingdom did. Our motherswerefriends. I read their letters, but I don’t know what happened between them – nor does it matter now. Not when you’re endangering the people of the midrealms.’ She projected her voice across the battlefield. ‘You claimed to fight for the common folk, but you’ve sacrificed them like pawns. You never wanted to free them – you wanted to rule them! To oppress them. You took their free will. You forced them into war with shadow magic.’
Wren fought her way through the chaos towards him, taking hit after hit of whatever he had left in his arsenal, but the blood roaring in her ears drowned out any pain. At last, he was within her grasp, and Wren reached for her hairpin in a flash of movement and pressed the poisoned tip to his throat.
After everything, Silas startled, blinking at her in surprise before a cruel laugh escaped him. ‘You think I’m not immune to whatever little potion you treated that with?’ he jeered. ‘I’m aMaster Alchemist, Elwren. I’m immune to everything you can imagine.’
The pin fell from her fingers as Wren took a step back, and something heavy was pushed into her hands. With borrowed strength, she lifted the object...
‘You’re not immune to this,’ she hissed, and swung Torj’s war hammer with all his Furies-given power, caving in Silas’s skull.
As he fell, the shadow alchemy that had threatened the midrealms began to dissipate, like ink dissolving in water. The silver light of Wren and Torj’s bond spread outwards in waves, washing over the battlefield, cleansing what the silvertide roses would have healed had they survived.
For a moment, the battlefield held its breath. Then, from across the ruins, Kristopher Snowden stepped forwards, his armoursplattered with blood, his face smudged with soot but radiating with pride as he looked at Wren, then slowly lowered himself to one knee.
‘Hail, Elwren Embervale,’ he called, his voice carrying across the ruins, ‘Queen of Delmira.’
Thea was next, tears streaming down her dirt-streaked face as she knelt beside their friend. One by one, the people of the allied forces followed – Vernich the Bloodletter, Ashlyn Graves, Wilder Hawthorne, Callahan Whitlock, Talemir and Drue, and even the rulers of her fellow kingdoms, the Queen of Aveum and the Regent of Harenth, who’d been under guard at the edge of the fighting.
The kneeling spread like a ripple through water, reaching the edges of the battlefield, where even former members of the People’s Vanguard, now free from Silas’s hold, bowed their heads to the woman who had told them the truth when their leader had fed them lies.
