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.

A broken body and a broken mind – that was their intent: torture at its finest.

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.

For him, the world would wait. And when he was safe at her side, they could watch the whole fucking thing go up in flames to be reborn anew.

What was it the prophecy said? A dawn of fire and blood.

‘Then the world will know that if they hurt him, I’ll burn them all to the ground.’

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.

She broke away, panting. ‘I love you,’ she gasped, refusing to tear her eyes away from him. ‘I love you so much I can hardly breathe. I’ve wanted to say it for so long —’ Wilder gave a hoarse, broken laugh. ‘Tell me again later. Tell me when we’re safe.’ Thea kissed him again, desperate to show him that tempest he’d brought to life within her from the moment they’d met. ‘I’ll tell you every day until my last,’ she murmured.

‘You’re dead anyway,’ she promised. ‘But touch him again, I dare you.’

‘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.

‘Gods, not the chicken story,’ Dratos moaned from nearby. ‘It’s my name day story,’ Anya objected. ‘It’s your everything story. Chicken. Name day. Bog. Last I heard there was a rogue artist involved too —’

‘You told me I had to choose,’ Thea replied, raising a brow. ‘And so you did… You chose to be exactly what you are, nothing less.’

Thea turned the book over in her hands before she groaned at the title. ‘Tethers and Magical Bonds Throughout History… Furies save us, not exactly what I’d call a scintillating read, Mal.’ She hauled herself out of the armchair. ‘A library full of love stories and that’s what Audra picks? I’ll find us something that won’t bore us to tears.’

A small shape marred the skin there, and upon closer inspection, Thea tipped her head back, suddenly unable to breathe for the hilarity of it. She clutched her stomach, tears streaming down her face as she wheezed. ‘Tell me that’s not a —’ ‘Laughing Fox?’ Kipp finished for her, grinning. ‘I’m afraid so.’ ‘Fuck you, Kipp,’ Cal growled, trying to wriggle away from their friend, who still had him pinned to the floor. ‘I know you’re to blame for it. You were there, whispering in —’

‘You’re exactly how I like you,’ she said with a mischievous grin. ‘Rugged and dirty.’ ‘Is that right?’ ‘Absolutely,’ she said with another kiss.

‘How did you uncover that?’ Farissa gave Wren a sideways glance. ‘We experimented.’ ‘On each other?’ Audra gaped. ‘Farissa, you’re telling me you experimented with a drug you know nothing about, on a princess of Delmira?’ ‘It was my idea!’ Wren interjected. Audra shook her head.

Wilder Hawthorne was a god, and she would gladly worship at his altar.

Anya cupped her hands to her face, blowing hot breath over her fingers. ‘Sounds like a solid plan to me. Of all the ways to die after everything I’ve been through, turning to a block of ice in some dead forest would be rather underwhelming.’

‘You’re just jealous,’ Thea quipped. ‘Everyone wants a Warsword of their own.’ Anya did laugh that time. ‘Oh, I think Wren could have a Warsword if she wanted one.’ ‘We’re not having this conversation,’ Wren said firmly.

‘Fate is nothing to fear,’ she said quietly. ‘It comes for us all in the end.’ ‘Doesn’t make it easier,’ Thea muttered. ‘No,’ Anya replied. ‘It doesn’t.’

‘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.’

‘No fucking reaper’s going to get its claws in me,’ came a gravelly voice from the tent flap. Along with the rest of the company, Thea turned to see Vernich the Bloodletter enter the command tent, dressed head to toe in Warsword armour, his hand on the pommel of his blade.

Don’t let the world – don’t let anyone convince you that you’re not enough. Only you define your story. You and you alone. When they tell you what you’re not, when they tell you what you can’t do, remember: you are the storm, Elwren. You split the skies and flood the plains. You make the ground tremble beneath their boots. No one can fucking stop you.’

‘What the fuck were you doing?’ she muttered, noting the film of venom on the fang, the pallor of Kipp’s face. ‘Dancing the fucking foxtrot with a bunch of spiders —’ He coughed, blood lining his teeth and spilling down his chin. ’What’d you think I was doing?’

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.’ Thea fell back down to her knees. With tears of relief and almost manic laughter, she smacked Kipp’s arm. Gods, she almost wanted to kill the strategist herself. A tidal wave of feeling threatened to crash over her, leaving her in a trembling state of shock.

‘That piece of shit deserved to die a long time ago, Thea.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I only wish he was alive so I could kill him all over again with my bare hands.’

‘I thought the same initially,’ Anya offered. ‘But it was our sweet sister who pointed out: what good is the first cut of many if he can’t feel it?’ Kipp gaped. ‘Elwren said that?’ Thea patted him on the shoulder. ‘You’ll slowly learn that of the three Embervale sisters, Wren is the one to fear the most.’

‘Will you shut up?’ ‘Perhaps a dancing badger? Or a flying stag?’ Kipp’s eyes went wide and he grabbed Cal by the shoulders. ‘No! A lightning bolt, to signify our undying friendship with the trio of Embervales!’ ‘I’m not falling for this a second time,’ Cal muttered. ‘All in good time, my friend,’ Kipp said sagely. ‘All in good time.’

A sudden scream from the king pierced the air, only to be abruptly silenced as a block of wood struck the back of Artos’ head, knocking him unconscious. Vernich dropped the timber and drank again before noting Wilder and Torj’s stares. ‘What?’ he said, nonplussed. ‘They didn’t say we couldn’t shut him up by other means.’ Wilder did laugh at that. ‘True enough.’

Thea’s heart sank. She grabbed Anya’s arm. ‘If you want to dabble in revenge rather than save what’s left of this world, then be my fucking guest. But maybe you should think about how you wish to leave the world… Better, for having had you in it? Or a mirror of the pain you experienced? If that is what you want your legacy to be, then so be it. Just know that it doesn’t make you different. It makes you the same as all the rest.’

‘If this is to be our final stand, let us make it worthy of legend!’

‘All those risks,’ she whimpered, horrified at her own behaviour. ‘All that recklessness…’ ‘You truly were Althea Nine Lives, then,’ Wren said quietly, clutching their sister’s lifeless hands.

‘We are all daughters of darkness, Thea. We were born into a world of it, a place that would dictate the way in which we defend ourselves, the way we live our lives. No more. That world is no longer. And the next one will be what we make it.’

‘There are few who can face themselves as well as their nightmares and emerge whole on the other side,’ they whispered.

‘I swore to cast the evil from these lands. I swore to hunt, punish and kill any and all who threaten these kingdoms. It does end, Jasira. And it ends with you.’

‘It’s always been you, Thea. And as long as I’m with you, you’re the only home I’ll ever need.’

‘I had to give them back sometime,’ Audra replied, with a note of amusement. ‘Back to who?’ Thea blinked. ‘Weren’t they yours?’ ‘More of a long-term loan…’ Audra’s eyes twinkled. ‘From Iseldra, Morwynn and Valdara.’ ‘The daggers belong to the Furies?’ ‘What did I tell you, Thea? The smallest blade can make the biggest difference.’

Tea. The word reverberated through Thea as her gaze dropped to the seemingly innocent pot. But there was nothing innocent about it. It was Wren’s own invention. The Ladies’ Luncheon.

‘Killed by a teapot… I’ll have to tell Drue and Tal about this.’

‘Biscuit and Pancake… They make quite the pair.’ ‘Malik’s going to love it,’ she said, laughing at herself.

‘All work and no play makes Warswords incredibly dull, Hawthorne.’