Page 36 of Silver & Smoke
Wren urged her horse on, but heard Thea snort behind her. ‘None taken,’ her sister said. ‘Theyarea bunch of rich pricks.’
The Salt and Barrel sat right on the edge of the town, its glass windows thick and warped, distorting the view of the merriment within. The cheerful notes of a fiddle drifted through the door. Darian stood by a trough outside, sipping from a tankard. His eyes widened when he spotted them. ‘Do I need to send the rest of the men—?’
Torj’s husky voice cut through the night. ‘Drevenor has fallen. Your bride needs a healer. And rest. See to it that she gets it, Lord Devereux.’
‘While I appreciate the sentiment, I don’t take orders from Warswords,’ Darian replied smoothly.
‘You will if you know what’s good for you,’ the Bear Slayer warned, before stalking off, not into the inn, but towards the harbourmaster’s tower.
Gentle hands helped Wren down from her horse. ‘Are you alright?’ Cal murmured.
Numb, she nodded as she was ushered inside. A low-ceilinged common room with blackened wooden beams greeted her, full of mismatched furniture positioned around a large hearth and bar.
‘Now this is my kind of place,’ she heard Kipp declare somewherebehind her, but a chill raked down her spine as her gaze went straight to Lord Lucian. He was seated at a table in the far corner with Lord Briar and Lord Pendelton, surveying her dishevelled state, his eyes narrowing as he searched the faces around her. An arm fell across her shoulders and Lucian’s attention lingered a moment longer before he returned to the conversation around him.
‘Torj did well to make himself scarce,’ Darian whispered as he steered her through the rabble towards a narrow staircase. ‘My father’s watching everything. Always.’
Wren swallowed the sob that threatened to burst from her lips. She knew it was safer for her soul-bonded to keep his distance, but it didn’t stop her longing for his presence, for the comfort of his touch.
‘This way. I booked a room for you,’ Darian told her.
‘Silas was at Drevenor,’ Wren managed as she climbed the stairs with him. ‘Not just a unit of his men, but him too. In the flesh.’
‘I know,’ Darian replied. ‘My father’s spies met us here with their report, as did some of Drevenor’s evacuated students. The academy wasn’t at full capacity. Most made it out. But it was too late for us to come after you—’
‘It would have made no difference. He’s stronger than we knew. The fact that he’s not running us down with his army now tells me that he’s got much more up his sleeve.’
When they reached the top of the stairs, Darian guided her down the hallway and stopped at the last door. ‘Do you really need a healer?’ he asked, fitting a key to the lock. ‘I doubt we’ll find one better than you, Dessa or Zavier in this cesspit.’
Wren shook her head. ‘I’m not hurt.’
‘Are you sure? Because it’s my head beneath the war hammer if the Bear Slayer finds out otherwise.’
Wren huffed a weak laugh. ‘I’m sure. I just need to wash this soot off.’
Darian nodded. ‘There’s hot water waiting for you inside. I brought your pack up as well, so you should have everything youneed. Here’s the key.’ He pressed it into her palm. ‘My father has booked us passage on the first ship out in the morning. It leaves for Harenth at dawn. From there, it’s up to you where we go.’
The fresh image of cinders settling across the grounds of Drevenor came to her then, along with a truth that stirred within – one she had learned in the wake of the last war...
Sometimes, the most resilient blooms were the ones that grew from the ashes.
She could sense the dark clouds gathering overhead, could feel the thunder rolling in answer to her resolve. This time, when her storm broke, it would show Silas the Kingsbane exactly what grew from scorched earth and thorns.
Wren met Darian’s gaze and named a place she’d hoped never to return to again. ‘First we ride to Thezmarr,’ she told him. ‘Then, to war.’
CHAPTER 19
Wren
‘A queen’s reign is not defined by the absence of storms, but her ability to continue sailing through them’
– The Midrealms Chronicles
THE TUB WASsmall, but the water within was steaming, as Darian had promised. With shaking hands, Wren used a dropper to infuse the bath with the last of her lavender oil, hoping it would calm her rising panic.
At last, she submerged herself completely, lingering beneath the surface for as long as her lungs would allow. The lavender and hot water had the desired effect, quietening her racing thoughts and heart. Drevenor was gone, but it lived on in her, and in her friends. This wasnotthe end.
Wren scrubbed the grime from her skin with a newfound determination. The destruction of the academy had been necessary, regardless of what Silas may or may not have gained, for Wren knew what he was capable of now. She could prepare to defend Delmira with everything she had.
