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‘Easy,’ he shrugged. ‘You never do what you’re told. Figured you’d be here.’
‘Have you come to punish me for my disobedience, then?’
He bit back a chuckle. ‘I should, but no.’
‘So why are you here?’
‘To check your form, to monitor your progress…’
Thea raised a single brow. ‘Have you drawn a conclusion?’
‘Not as yet.’
‘You sure? Nothing to criticise? No words of wisdom?’
‘There is one thing…’ he ventured slowly.
‘Of course there is.’
He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. ‘Eat the damn greens next time.’
She frowned. ‘What?’
‘The greens. At dinner. Eat them.’
‘But —’
‘Consider it part of your training, Apprentice.’
She rolled her eyes. He could tell she was suppressing a laugh; the thought made him feel lighter than he had in weeks. But the feeling didn’t last long. Wilder knew she was waiting for him to say more, to critique the drills she’d been doing, but he remained silent and simply continued to watch.
‘When are you going to tell me of the Great Rite?’ she asked eventually, wiping the perspiration from her brow. She had asked him about it before, when their relationship had been just as volatile, on the way to Harenth. He’d been less than forthcoming then – in fact, if he recalled correctly, his exact words had been, ‘I wouldn’t tell you if Enovius himself had a blade to my heart.’
From her expression, Thea had resigned herself to a similar response now.
But Wilder was in the mood to surprise her, so he rubbed the back of his neck and considered her. ‘It is difficult to explain,’ he started, motioning for her to continue her current exercise. She did. ‘The Great Rite is not contained to a single location. Nor does it adhere to the seasons, or even time itself…’
Thea didn’t stop moving, didn’t question him, but her footwork slowed slightly, and he could tell she was listening with bated breath.
‘There are several openings that I know about across the midrealms,’ he continued, fighting against the urge to shove the memories away. ‘But they are not readily accessible. A warrior has to wait until they welcome a challenger, until the warrior feels the call. There is no predicting when the Great Rite opens. There’s no pattern. It’s once in a blue moon…’
Thea paused then. ‘When was the last time it opened?’
Wilder met her gaze. ‘When I gained my Warsword totem.’
‘How long ago?’
‘Just over seven years.’
A soft cry escaped Thea’s lips, her knees buckling. ‘I don’t have seven years.’
‘I know.’ The two words were heavy between them.
‘When were you going to tell me this?’
‘When I could trust that you weren’t going to do something stupid.’
‘And can you trust me with that?’ she challenged.
