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Thea waved her off. ‘Yes, yes. To all the above.’
‘But…’
‘There’s more to being a Thezmarrian warrior than fighting,’ she said, her cheeks heating at the thought of the Warsword who’d shared that very sentiment with her.
The look of shock on her sister’s face told Thea just how single-minded she had been in the past.
No longer, she vowed. If she was going to be a warrior, a legend of the guild, then she needed to get her head out of her arse. She was in no condition to train today and she let go of that furious pride that told her she needed to show her face. Standing around to prove to Seb that he hadn’t broken her was not a clever use of her time and with only eight weeks standing between herand the initiation test, she needed to be clever with her time now more than ever.
Wren was standing in the doorway waiting for her. ‘You’re really coming?’
‘Yes.’ Slowly drawing her legs over the side of the bed and planting her feet on the ground, Thea tested her ability to hold her own weight.
‘You really should rest today,’ but Wren had said it weakly, knowing that once her mind was made up, there was no changing it.
‘Do you have a staff or… something I can use to support myself?’ Thea was wobbly and she was already short of breath, but the last thing she wanted was to delay Wren. She was a master’s apprentice now. She had duties and responsibilities beyond showing up for work at the Alchemy workshop.
Wren scanned her cluttered room. ‘Will this do?’ She pulled several empty pots hanging from a rod by the window and gave it to Thea, who tested it tentatively.
‘It’s fine, thank you.’
Wren gave her a strange look that Thea couldn’t read. Unless… Was it asurprise?Had she not voiced her gratitude before? Thea opened her mouth to say more, but her sister was already bustling about the room, collecting things and forcing another horrible tonic down Thea’s throat.
Coughing and spluttering, Thea did everything she was told without complaint and when at last they were ready, she followed her into the corridor, shuffling along with her makeshift staff.
‘If that wound starts bleeding again, you tell me immediately,’ Wren ordered. ‘We will not be testing the fates today.’
Thea gave her a salute and a smile. ‘As you say.’
‘Why aren’t you like this all the time?’ Wren muttered as they made their way to the workshop. ‘You’re far more agreeable.’
‘Someone has to keep you on your toes, sister.’
Wren rolled her eyes.
When they entered the Alchemy workshop, the chatter fell silent as all eyes went to Thea.
She spotted Ida and Sam at their usual table, their grins faltering as they took in her staff and sickly pallor. Thea tried to give them a reassuring wave.
‘What’s this?’ Farissa said from the front of the room. ‘A lost lamb returned to the herd?’
‘Only for a little while, Farissa,’ Thea replied. ‘If you’ll have me.’
The older woman smiled. ‘There’s always a place for you here, Althea.’
Thea nodded in thanks and shuffled towards her old place at her sister’s side. When she reached the workbench, she was drenched in sweat and panting. Thankfully, her sister had procured a stool for her and she sat down with a grateful grimace.
‘So,’ she rasped. ‘How’s the Ladies’ Luncheon design coming along?’
Wren beamed. ‘I’ll show you.’
Thea spent the next hour or so listening to her sister intently. She had always known Wren was brilliant, but this… The quaint teapot, complete with its floral embellishments and delicate features, was a weapon. How had it taken Thea so long to realise that Wren was just as much a Thezmarrian warrior as the rest? That she was creating devices to dispatch poison to their enemies, that the guild was relying on her for the subtle art of chemical warfare?
Thea drank in every word and followed every instruction, fascinated by Wren’s mind and her cunning nature. Where theWarswords were the face of Thezmarr, the Alchemists were the silent killers, the shadows in the night. Thea’s chest swelled with pride; she had no doubt that one day Wren would run this place.
When the shift was finished, she told Wren she wanted to visit Kipp and, to her surprise, her sister insisted on accompanying her.
The infirmary was in the lower levels of the southwest tower and took up an entire floor. Once upon a time it had been used with far more frequency than it was now, when Thezmarr’s warriors were returning from battle wounded in droves. Despite her many injuries over the years, the only time Thea had stepped foot in the infirmary was when she had tried to return Malik’s dagger to him… As she and Wren passed the rows of empty, narrow beds, she felt a pang at its loss.
