Page 67 of Shadow & Storms
It was Wren who knelt at the queen’s side this time, taking Reyna’s hand in hers. ‘Your Majesty,’ she said softly. ‘Regardless of what the gods have shown you, it is as my sisters say. You have a choice: bend the knee, or fight.’
Slowly, Queen Reyna’s eyes slid to Wren, her expression unreadable. ‘I will think on it,’ she said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
WILDER
The undercurrent of resentment lingered among the shadow-touched, and Wilder could hardly blame them. They knew they wouldn’t be so easily accepted by the midrealms’ forces, if they allied with them at all, and yet here they were, training to come to their aid at the eleventh hour.
Wilder kept himself busy with drills for his unit, keeping them as simple as possible: how to form the lines, how to hold them, how to break the enemy’s. Simple was best, for if they did unite with other midrealms forces, simple would be all they could manage to learn en route to the battle itself.
It had been a week and they had received no word from Thea about the queen’s decision, no word from Kipp about Esyllt’s rescue, which meant they were strategising blindfolded. All the meetings in the world wouldn’t save them if they had no allies.
Exhausted to the bone, Wilder trudged back to the main university building to find Talemir; his mother’s sapphire was still burning a hole in Wilder’s pocket. He quietly hoped he’d be able to hand it back and then take advantage of the bar in the Scholar’s Lounge in front of the fire, just for an hour or two before duty called again.
Talemir was doing exactly that, already reclining in an armchair, his boots on the low table before him, a glass in hand. ‘Had the same idea?’ he asked as Wilder shut the door behind him.
‘Seems so.’ Wilder went to the cart in the corner and poured himself a generous glass of garnet wine. ‘Might be the last chance we get.’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ Talemir replied, draining his drink.
Rolling his aching shoulders, Wilder brought him a bottle and then sank into the chair beside his former mentor, his friend.
Tal took the bottle gratefully and topped up his glass with amber liquid. ‘Don’t let me have any more after this one.’
Wilder huffed a laugh. ‘Like I’ve been able to stop you before.’ He produced the sea-blue jewel from his pocket and held it out, watching the light of the fire dance across its facets.
Talemir stared. ‘You still have it? I thought you’d have given it away by now.’
‘Thea never needed to learn that lesson… And she told me point blank it wasn’t exactly her style.’
Talemir laughed, taking the sapphire between his fingers thoughtfully. ‘Guess she’s like Drue in that respect. They’d prefer swords and monster hearts as gifts.’
‘Without a doubt.’
‘Sometimes, to love someone, we have to let them go…’ Talemir repeated his mother’s words and tossed the gem onto the table. ‘I don’t think either of us needs that anymore.’
Wilder made a noise of agreement. ‘Never letting Thea go again, not for the world.’
His mentor offered a knowing smile. ‘Glad to hear it. Lesson learnt —’
The doors swung inward and Torj stormed in, raking his fingers through his golden hair, a curse of frustration on his lips. ‘Tal, I swear, these soldiers —’ He paused, reading the room with a frown. ‘What are you two talking about?’
‘Oh, you know,’ Talemir replied casually. ‘Life and love.’
Torj swiped the liquor from him and threw himself down on one of the lounges, drinking straight from the bottle. ‘If you’ve got any advice, I’m all fucking ears.’
Wilder bit back a laugh. ‘It wasn’t all that long ago that you were the one shoving your wisdom down my throat.’
‘You were in dire need of it,’ Torj replied.
‘I believe you once said to me: “Your bullshit is your bullshit, Hawthorne”.’
‘You were being particularly thick-headed at the time. More than usual.’ Torj sighed. ‘I also said you had to let someone in. And if I recall correctly, you told me to fuck off.’
Wilder’s mouth tugged into a smile, remembering the moment well before another sprang to mind. ‘Some other words of wisdom you shared with me when I learnt of Thea’s heritage seem incredibly fitting now… “You’re fucked, aren’t you?” That one’s gotta hurt.’
‘Fuck off,’ Torj muttered. ‘I gave you plenty of useful advice.’