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‘But without Naarvian steel, how do you —’
Kipp came to Thea’s side. ‘You alright?’ he asked quietly.
‘Fine,’ she replied, trying to block out the delicate sound of Adrienne’s voice as she chatted to Cal with so much ease. ‘Where’s this food, then?’ Thea couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten properly, and now, as the aroma of roast goat filled the air, her stomach rumbled.
Kipp threw an arm around her. ‘Come on, I’ll fix you a plate.’
Thea let Kipp lead her to a fallen tree and sit her on one of the saddle blankets. She couldn’t help but watch the ranger and Hawthorne, something ugly prickling under her skin as she did.
‘Kipp?’ she asked, remembering what the Warsword had told her in the cave. ‘What do you know of Aveum springwater?’
Kipp’s brows furrowed. ‘You mean beyond the widely known healing properties? That it comes from the sacred Pools of Purity in the winter kingdom?’
‘Yes, besides all that. Is there anything that…’ She swallowed the lump in her throat that formed as she watched Hawthorne pass Adrienne a flask. ‘Is there anything that makes it more potent?’
‘Surely Wren would have told you?’ Kipp said casually.
Thea imagined there were many things Wren had told her in their early days of alchemy that she had been too stubborn to learn. She had been too focused on wielding swords and shields to commit much else to memory back then. ‘Told me what?’
He followed her gaze to the Warsword and Naarvian. ‘That when it’s used on someone you love, it’s the most powerful healing tonic known to the midrealms.’
Thea blinked.
Kipp nodded across the campsite to Hawthorne. ‘He used his vial on you after the initiation test, didn’t he?’
Thea ran a hand over her face, fighting down the emotion welling up inside her. ‘He did.’
Kipp sighed. ‘Don’t suppose you fancy a drink?’
At last, Thea tore her gaze away from the duo and glanced up at her friend. ‘Actually, Kipp… A drink sounds fucking amazing.’
Dusk settled around them, the hours passing quickly with the chatter between Thea’s friends and Adrienne. Thea kept to herself, sipping on the flask of wine Kipp had given her and picking at her plate of meat. It was the most relaxed she’d seen her friends in a long time, and she fought the voice within that told her to force them onwards to Vios. For Adrienne was right: without her magic, there was no way she could detain Hawthorneandstop the ranger from leaving.
Hawthorne sat closer to the group, resting his elbows on his knees, contributing to the conversation every now and then in a low, barely audible tone. Whenever he spoke, Adrienne listened intently, sometimes laughing at something he said.
Thea finished her food and wine, passing the empty flask back to Kipp. ‘I need to rest,’ she told him.
She wasn’t sure she liked how his face softened in understanding.
‘We set your tent up just over there. I put a heated stone on your bedroll. Hawthorne said…’ Kipp cringed, as though he expected her to erupt at any moment. ‘Well, he mentioned you had some trouble with cold exposure in the tunnel. That you needed —’
‘Thank you,’ Thea interjected. ‘Thank you, Kipp.’
Her friend seemed taken aback, his look of surprise only serving to wound her. Had she truly been so terrible? She winced inwardly. She knew the answer to that already.
Squeezing his shoulder in thanks and offering a wave to Cal, Thea left the campfire and headed for her tent.
Inside the canvas, she removed her outer layers and weapons one by one, sliding her boots off at the heel, careful of her hidden throwing stars. Along with her meditation cards, she placed these in a neat row at the edge of her tent, imagining each and every way she might stop Adrienne from leaving. There were several creative methods she had in mind.
She pulled the damned sapphire from the folds of her pocket too and vaguely wondered if she should give it back to the ranger. And that was how Thea drifted to sleep.
When she emerged from her tent the next morning, Adrienne had gone. Panicked, Thea scanned the frozen forest for Hawthorne.
‘Looking for me, Princess?’ he asked, from where he leant against a tree, arms folded over his broad, armoured chest, watching her.
‘You didn’t run,’ she managed, approaching him, noting the manacles still around his wrists.
‘I didn’t run,’ he agreed.
