Thorns & Fire (The Ashes of Thezmarr, #2)

by Helen Scheuerer

“How is it different?” “Because I’m expendable!” he blurted.

Something tugged inside her chest: an ache, a yearning that felt bone-deep, soul-deep. For a second, Wren thought she saw a flicker of gold in the air⁠—

“You spoke into my mind, Torj. Into my fucking mind. And I heard it.” “What?” He blinked at her, certain that she was speaking a language he didn’t understand for all the sense she was making.

Tell me why I can hear your thoughts. Just tell me why⁠—” “Because we’re fucking soul bonded,” he roared.

But it was a unique form of torture to be in love with—to be soul bonded to—the woman who no longer wanted you, the woman you were duty-bound to protect.

“I have every right to be here. A nobleman of fine breeding and wealth, come to offer the Delmirian princess aid she doesn’t even realize she needs. We both know I am more suited to a place by her side—or in her bed, for that matter—than you.”

“She’ll poison you before you can so much as take off your boots.” “Careful, now. You know how danger excites me.”

“Odessa Chamberlain is a traitor to the midrealms and all its crowns,” King Leiko declared.

But as Wren looked at Dessa—battered, bleeding, yet still protecting her—she knew there was only one choice. A time will come where that knowledge will be more impactful than the swing of a sword.

“It was the crown jewel of the midrealms for agriculture. Naarva may have been the Kingdom of Gardens, but Delmira… If something grew there, it was better, richer, more potent in whatever properties it held. People would pay bags of gold for a simple sack of soil from the lands there. It was the most fertile, the most sought after.”

“It’s time to call Thea back.” Wren took a trembling breath and rose to her feet. “Delmira needs a queen.”

Torj had become what he was always meant to be: the shield between Wren and the world that had already taken too much.

“That’s not possible… I keep my notes locked away in my room. I⁠—” She saw Dessa’s throat bob. “It’s my fault. The last time we worked together I took yours by mistake. I’d only found them amongst mine that morning. I put them on your desk with the roses so I’d remember to give them back to you and… he saw them. He saw the map of Delmira.

“I agreed that in exchange for you creating the cure, Elderbrock would no longer be in your service, that we would find you a suitable replacement once Thea returned to her regular duties. I have not forgotten my promise.” Wren stared

“I don’t want a replacement,” Wren blurted, pushing the list back. Audra’s brow furrowed. “You don’t?” It was as though Wren were watching herself from a distance, a stranger to her own actions, her own words, even as they threatened to carve her open anew. “I’m his to protect,” she said. “And he’s mine.”

The latter looked subtly pleased—a fair sign that schemes were afoot and playing out exactly how she wanted.

“If you’re going to burst into flame, Bear Slayer, can you kindly put a bit of distance between us first?” Kipp commented.

“Are you coming, Torj?” Her voice cut through the haze of his thoughts. Torj. Not Bear Slayer. Not Warsword. Torj.

“I got a letter from Thezmarr this morning…” Cal said slowly. “It’s Vernich.” “Vernich?” Torj stared at his former protégé. “Vernich’s retired. He’s been in some fishing village for years.”

“True. He’s a hard bastard, that’s for sure. Audra’s got people out looking. I’ve never seen her so fucking angry. Apparently, she developed a soft spot for him over the years⁠—”

It’s the intake of breath before the slice of a blade, or the swing of a hammer… The warrior’s second where we make our actions count, make them worthy of legend.

Do you know how many times I’ve had to correct someone about Anya? About the fact that she was a hero, not the Daughter of Darkness?” Wren nodded. “It’s been the same here. A place of learning still intent on creating a false narrative.”

“So that’s the point of difference!” Thea grabbed her shoulder. “Everywhere you’ve been, something has flourished!”

In the place where she had unleashed her storm, where Torj had shielded her from herself, there was a sea of wildflowers, more vibrant, more resplendent than ever. It was as though the meadow had been holding its breath before, and now it flourished in reckless celebration, painting the world, as wild and untamable as Wren’s magic.

She understood it now: the thorns were not meant to cage, but to strengthen.

“It’s not the Delmirian soil that will complete the cure, or end this battle…” she murmured. “It’s you.”

“To be clear, you believe that it’s not Delmira as a place, nor a particular strain of plant that made your original cure work, Elwren?” she asked. “No.” “You believe that Delmira’s rebirth and your inconsistent results with the counter-alchemy are a result of storm magic?”

“Perhaps the effects of your magic can also be more powerful when the place in question has some sort of significance to you.”

His pain was her pain, and hers was his. The bond was still there. Still intact. She understood why he’d tried to sever it. Understood why he’d done what he’d done. But that wasn’t the only way… She saw it so clearly now.

Everything else faded away. Wren went to his side and pulled the mask from her face. “We were always stronger together.”

A gold thread, solid and real, laced around them both. And Wren was smiling. Soul bonded. His soul bonded.

“Have you been waiting up all night for me, Bear Slayer?” she asked. “I waited years for you, Embers.” Torj brushed a heated kiss to her mouth. “What was a few more hours?”

“I have reason to suspect they are different in nature,” Wren said. “But for now, the blood is untainted, taken straight from the vein.”

“A delayed reaction…” she said to herself. “They wanted you to think you were well, only to have you fall ill later.”

“That is a prophecy from the past, Your Majesty. It has already happened…” But Queen Reyna placed a finger beneath her chin, lifting it with a knowing smile. “Has it?”

“Were we that insufferable?” Thea cut in, looking to Wilder for confirmation. “Yes,” Wren and Torj replied in unison.

“Certain magical bonds, like familial connections, end in death. Others, such as soul bonds, can only truly be severed if both parties agree,” she read aloud. “While a soul bond can be broken temporarily, it will repair in time if the love between the pair remains…”

“I know you,” he said. “Sometimes I think I know you better than I know myself. I know there’s something you have to do. I just hope you know me well enough by now to understand that I’m with you no matter what. With you till the very end.”

“It was a message from Thea. There is to be a meeting in an hour. The People’s Vanguard has marched on Delmira. And Silas the Kingsbane has laid claim to the throne.”

“I claim this burden as my own, Thee. And you will let me have it.”

“The false king will be unseated,” she announced, her voice as clear as day. “Delmira already has a queen.” Stunned silence fell across the room and Wren waited. “You’re not the next in line,” King Leiko blurted. “The law of the midrealms states that should the heir of any kingdom wish to abdicate their throne, they have the right to do so, with the next-born heir to take their place,” Wren replied calmly. She turned to Thea. “Do you wish to abdicate your throne?”

“As for the flourishing state of Delmira, I have an answer for that too: it was storm magic that brought it back to life. My storm magic.”

“We tested Thea’s magic for the same capabilities and have since learned that it is an attribute unique to my own power.” She had only just managed to slip away to the meadow before the meeting to confirm what she had suspected. The patch of grass that Thea had poured her own storm magic into had remained unchanged, whereas the small parcel Wren had treated that same day was already sprouting more wildflowers.

“You asked for a queen,” she said. “Now you have one.”

“You were forged with blood and steel, whereas Wren…”

“I would like to offer you the position of royal advisor.” The strategist leaned back in his chair, scratching his chin. “What’s the pay like?” “Dreadful,” she replied. “And the hours?” Kipp asked. “Even worse.”

Kipp snorted. “Dare I ask about the chances of success in this venture?” Wren’s lips twitched. “Somewhere between slim and none.” “Excellent.” He grinned, rubbing his hands together. “When do I start?” “Yesterday.”

It was then that Wren understood. She locked eyes with Kipp and he gave her a somber nod. “My hand in marriage,” she said.

“Zavier has agreed to marry in name only. You can lead separate lives. A marriage of alliance in the truest sense. He doesn’t have much in the way of gold or defence forces, but the union of two royal families will carry a lot of weight with the people.”

“Princess Elwren,” he tutted. “Found rutting with another man while her hand in marriage is being discussed in the very same building…” “It’s Queen Elwren,” Torj growled. “She’s not queen until she is crowned, and a lot can happen between now and then.”