Page 96 of Silver & Smoke
‘So why aren’t you in there, standing by her side?’ Thea asked.
‘Because it’s a privilege to watch her. She doesn’t need me casting a shadow over her while she does what only she can do.’
Thea surveyed him. ‘You poor bastard. You’ve got it bad.’
‘No shit.’
She laughed. ‘As you should. She’s the best of us.’
‘You don’t think I know that?’
‘I think you know it all too well,’ Thea replied with a shrug.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means you’re like Wilder. You don’t think you deserve it, but you do. You are also one of the best of us—’
Torj opened his mouth to argue, but Thea silenced him with a look.
‘Haven’t you learned not to argue with an Embervale sister yet?’
With a scoff, Torj shook his head. ‘Just because I’ll lose doesn’t stop me from trying.’
Thea grinned. ‘Atta boy.’
At that, Torj couldn’t help but laugh.
It had been three days since Torj had taken a dose of Dessa and Zavier’s strengthening potion. He was trying to make it last, trying to go without for as long as possible before he needed to top up.But sitting in the weapons room of the Warren with his war hammer heavy across his lap, he realized he had hit that limit. His hand trembled as he tipped Wren’s cleaning aid onto the scrap of fabric, and it felt as though his thighs were bruising under the weight of the weapon.
‘Fuck’s sake,’ he muttered, shifting uncomfortably, ignoring the nagging worry that he soon might not be able to lift the hammer at all.
As he was agonizing over his failings, the door swung open and in strolled Wilder, Vernich, Cal, Thea and Kipp – four Warswords and a strategist, all here to witness his undoing.
Great, Torj thought darkly.
But they nodded in greeting, Thea letting out a low whistle at the sight of the weapon-covered walls. ‘Not bad, Bloodletter... not bad at all.’
‘It’s no Naarvian steel, but it’ll slice traitors open all the same,’ Vernich replied. ‘We’ve been doing some guerrilla warfare across Silas’s known bases. A lot of this weaponry is his.’
‘Impressive,’ Thea replied. ‘Have you sent word to Audra?’
Vernich shook his head. ‘Too dangerous. Can’t afford to have this place discovered.’
Torj turned his attention back to his hammer, his hand trembling more violently as he tried to clean the dried blood from its runes—
Suddenly the hammer lifted from his lap, and he looked up to see Vernich pulling it onto his own, taking the cleaning aid and cloth as well without so much as a word.
‘What are you doing?’ Torj hissed, his face heating.
‘Arranging flowers for your funeral,’ Vernich said bluntly. ‘What’s it look like I’m fucking doing?’
The Bloodletter guided the cloth over the carved iron with a smooth, practised hand, giving it as much care as he might his own prized weapon. He seemed to admire the way the concoction cut right through the grime and gore in the runes, examining the bottle with a hum of approval before putting it down.
‘Want to know why I switched from sword to mace?’ he asked suddenly.
Torj’s brows shot up. He hadn’t known that the older Warsword had ever wielded anythingbutthe mace. ‘Alright.’
Vernich paused his work to roll up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a thick scar along the length of his right forearm. ‘Managed to cop a slice right through the tendon here,’ he said, his voice rough with the memory as he pointed to the marred flesh. ‘Wasn’t even a Guardian yet, but sparring got a little heated in the arena. I couldn’t work a sword properly after that, not at the level I needed to pass the initiation test. According to the healers, the injury compromised my finger dexterity and fine wrist control.’
