Shadow & Storms (The Legends of Thezmarr, #4)

by Helen Scheuerer

For he knew in his bones that she would emerge victorious, Naarvian steel in hand, vows of vengeance on her tongue. And that she would come for him.

The thought was bittersweet, for she’d won the Great Rite and achieved what she’d always wanted, only to have lost something more precious when she emerged.

As blood dripped from Wilder’s swords, that brilliant white light flared again. At last, he tasted the storm on his lips, and looked up.

‘I am the storm,’ she told herself. She let her lightning rage, right alongside her heart, and she split the gods-damned tower in two.

‘We’ve told him stories about you his whole life,’ Talemir explained. ‘He’s always known who you are.’ With a huff of amusement, Wilder studied the drawing. ‘What sort of stories have you been telling him? He seems to think very… highly… of me.’ Thea leant across and followed his gaze to the enormous appendage attached to Wilder’s supposed likeness. Behind them, Talemir barked a laugh. ‘That’s your sword.’ Thea gave Wilder a wink. ‘I’ll say.’

‘I thought… I thought it was most powerful when it was used on someone you love,’ she said. Wilder only held her more firmly in his arms. Thea’s body shuddered against him, wracked with silent sobs, her chest aching as she tried to hold them in — A violent gasp made her jump. She whirled around to see Kipp’s eyes flutter, the wound in his chest knitting closed. ‘Furies save me,’ he rasped. ‘Are you trying to get me killed again, Thea? Don’t tell the Warsword you love me.’