Page 93 of Silver & Smoke
‘Figures,’ Vernich grunted. ‘I’m guessing he’s your brother then, given how similar you look and the fact that he’s got Naarvian summoner magic?’
‘Unfortunately,’ Zavier replied.
‘Unfortunate doesn’t even cover it,’ Vernich spat. ‘Least he covers that smug face with a damn mask.’
‘Do you know anything about the masks, Vernich?’ Wren asked, getting to her feet and stepping forwards. ‘It’s not just Silas who wears one, and I was wondering if there was anything more to them... Did you notice anything about them when you were—’
‘Can do you one better than tell you about it,’ Vernich grunted. ‘I can show you. In our last skirmish I got hold of one. Really enjoyed tearing it off the smug prick’s face. I’ll have it brought to the workroom for you.’
‘Workroom?’ Wren echoed, the word surprising Torj just as much.
But Vernich simply frowned. ‘You’re an alchemist, aren’t you? The people of the Warren have been preparing a space for you since you claimed the throne.’
Wren’s mouth dropped open, and Torj could hardly blame her. ‘Oh.’
The door swung inwards, and the Warswords, Torj included, shot to their feet, weapons raised.
A striking young woman entered the room without flinching at the sight of them, the totem of three crossed swords on her arm marking her as one of them. Torj hadn’t seen her before, and he would have remembered her, given the unique style of her blonde hair. She was tall and muscular, and the sides of her head were closely shorn, creating a stark contrast with the flowing length that remained braided down the middle. A series of elaborate plaits were woven like a thorny crown, twisted tight against her scalp.
She reminds me of Anya,Wren murmured into his mind.
Whoever she was, she strode into the space with every confidence, a hand with only two fingers resting against the pommel of her sword. ‘Bloodletter,’ she addressed Vernich, ‘the others are growing restless. They want news.’
Vernich gave a nod. ‘On my way.’
The Warsword didn’t so much as glance in their direction as she swept from the room, her golden braid gleaming.
There was a scraping sound, and Torj turned to see Kipp pushing the log beneath him back and standing in a daze. He opened and closed his mouth several times before he could actually speak.
‘I think I’ve died and seen one of the Furies for the first time in the flesh,’ he breathed, his gaze fixed on the door. ‘For the love of sour mead and the Laughing Fox, someone tell me...Whoin the midrealms wasthat?’
‘Ashlyn Graves,’ Cal answered at the same time as Vernich leapt to his feet with a snarl on his lips.
The Bloodletter snatched the front of Kipp’s shirt in his fist, the fabric tearing. ‘That,’ he growled, ‘ismy daughter.’
CHAPTER 48
Wren
‘The people of the Warren will abide by the laws of the midrealms’
– The Accords of the Warren
WREN WAS SOtaken aback she almost lost her balance. Torj’s hand shot out to steady her before she tumbled from the makeshift seat.
But no one was more shocked than Kipp. ‘Daughter?’ he spluttered.
‘Yes,’ Vernich hissed. ‘Daughter.’
Kipp’s gaze darted to the door. ‘But it’s only been six years since the war, and she’s—’
Wren could see the tendons in Vernich’s neck straining as he answered, ‘Thirty-four years old... You think I was a virgin for the first thirty fucking years of my life, Snowden?’
‘Your own daughter calls you Bloodletter?’ Kipp managed. ‘Do you call her Graves?’
The vein in Vernich’s neck was about to pop—
A deep chuckle sounded. ‘Let him down, Vernich,’ Wilder said, rising to his feet and clapping the Bloodletter on the shoulder.
