Page 34 of Silver & Smoke
‘You have to stop. You’re only fuelling him and hurting yourself.’
Dazed, she touched her fingers to the blood leaking from her nose, her green eyes widening as she stared at the crimson on her fingertips.
‘How?’ she croaked, trying to peer over his shoulder to where their enemy stood, stronger than before.
‘I don’t know, Embers, but we have to deal with Drevenor before he—’
Thea skidded to a stop beside them, staring at Silas, her mouth agape. ‘What the fuckwasthat?’
‘He’sabsorbingthe storm magic,’ Torj told her, keeping his voice measured, though he was anything but calm inside. ‘Anything you and Wren throw at him could be thrown right back at us. You need to destroy the building and everything inside it – the alchemy, the secrets, the books, the shadow artefacts,anythinghe could use to grow stronger. You need tobring the academy down.’
Thea shot Wren a look of disbelief, but Wren nodded in confirmation. ‘He’s right. We saw it with our own eyes, Thea. I don’t understand it, but he’s right.’
Without hesitation, Torj swung his war hammer in a deadly arc and called, ‘Hawthorne, Whitlock, you’re with me!’
He didn’t need to glance beside him to know his fellow Warswords had fallen into formation. One of Cal’s arrows whistled through the air, shooting straight for Silas, who deflected it with his shield.
‘We need buy Wren and Thea as much time as we can,’ Torj told them as they closed in on the Kingsbane. ‘If Silas gets his hands on whatever’s inside the academy, this war is over before it has begun. Masks up.’
‘Understood,’ Wilder said gruffly, unsheathing his dual swords.
They pulled swathes of fabric over the lower halves of their faces and charged towards Silas. Torj saw a blur of movement in his periphery – Wren and Thea breaking away from their small party, moving in perfect synchronization, their lightning blazing paths through the enemy ranks. Thea cut down any who dared attack them directly while Wren ran in her wake, throwing bolts of brilliant white like spears towards the academy. Across the grounds, their movements flowed like a deadly dance, each anticipating the other’s needs without a word, all the while channelling their storm magic into the great tree that still towered through the heart of the building.
Cal gave a sudden shout as another of his arrows ricocheted off Silas’s shield and a unit of three dozen masked men appeared behind their leader from the swirling mist. Torj had barely a second to register the arrival of Silas’s reinforcements before they surgedforwards, their darkened armour a stark contrast against the lightning-lit battlefield.
A glass orb shattered between Torj and a masked opponent, and he whirled around to see Dessa pulling vials from her pockets and launching them at the enemy. Torj dived just in time before the orb exploded, showering Silas’s men with a horrifying sickly green liquid that had them screaming.
Smoke erupted around them, thick and acrid, clawing at Torj’s lungs as he swung his hammer into an attacker’s breastplate. The metal caved in, along with his sternum. Torj fought his way towards Silas, ducking and weaving between enemy alchemists and Cal’s latest volley of arrows.
Too late, he saw an opponent reach for a potion, but Wilder was there, slicing clean through the enemy’s wrist before he could throw the vial.
‘Thanks,’ Torj grunted as he swung his hammer with so much force that it crushed the head right off a masked man’s shoulders.
Behind the first wave of soldiers were those akin to the howlers from the shadow war – not quite as mutilated as the monsters that had come before, but just as bloodthirsty and violent.
‘To me!’ Torj shouted.
The three Warswords moved as one, a triangle of deadly precision, as the next wave of Silas’s men crashed against them. Torj’s hammer carved devastating arcs, each impact sending men flying backwards with crushed armour and broken bones. Cal had abandoned his bow for twin daggers, his movements a blur as he sliced through vulnerable points in their enemies’ defences. Wilder roared with each swing of his swords, cutting down two men at once with a cross-slash that left them crumpling to the ground.
Silas remained untouched, watching them intensely. His shield shimmered, absorbing every fragment of energy and magic that flickered around him, while the air crackled with residual storm power.
Torj caught glimpses of Wren and Thea through the chaos. They had reached the academy’s main entrance, lightning coalescingaround their joined hands as they worked in tandem, feeding their storm magic into the ancient tree that had grown throughout the building’s existence. The branches sprouting above the academy’s spires began to glow with an eerie teal light, vibrating with barely contained power.
‘They need more time!’ Torj shouted, blocking a sword strike with his hammer’s haft before delivering a punishing blow to his attacker’s chest.
‘Stop them!’ Silas screamed through the fray, and instantly a unit broke away from the main fighting, sprinting towards the Embervale sisters.
‘Cal!’ Wilder called out.
Cal’s signature flaming arrows carved through the air once more, each hitting a target, causing them to drop one by one. The youngest Warsword then dropped back so he could pick off any of Silas’s men who attempted to attack Wren and Thea.
Now lightning struck the tree’s massive frame, setting the academy’s interior ablaze with blue-white fire that not only consumed the building, but devoured the very shadows within.
Silas himself turned to the Embervale sisters, reaching for their magic. The air between them distorted as he attempted to siphon their power, even from afar, but Torj threw himself between the Kingsbane and the storm wielders.
‘No,’ he said through gritted teeth. He could feel his strength ebbing, the tremors starting up again in his hands as he gripped his war hammer.
‘The loyal Warsword,’ Silas mocked, sounding eerily like Zavier. ‘So keen to die for others.’
