Page 32 of Slaying the Shadow Prince
Still gripping her sword, Drue made to scramble back from him, but her spine was already pressed against the cool stone wall. She was on the floor, she realised, huddled in a ball, facing the door of whatever room she was in. Always with a wall to her back, always facing the enemy.
‘Wildfire?’
More than anything, the infuriating name yanked her from the aftermath of her episode. She glared up at him.
‘What happened?’ Talemir’s hands were still on her, their warmth soaking through the arms of her damp shirt, highlighting how cold she was. Then he was pressing something into her palm.
A flask.
‘I’ll pass on the monster tonic, thanks,’ she muttered, wondering if she’d be able to stand. She wasn’t so sure. Her limbs felt frozen. But she didn’t want to be trapped in the same place ashim. He was a shadow wraith. She couldn’t let herself forget it. Not after all his kind had done.
‘It’s notmonster tonic,’ the Warsword told her, insistently pushing the flask towards her. ‘It’s fire extract.’
‘Sounds dangerous.’
‘Only in large quantities. And when mixed with mead and wine. And other… substances.’
Still reeling, Drue accepted with a shaking hand, taking a long sip. She nearly choked. The liquor instantly burned as she swallowed. From the back of her throat all the way to her belly, it seared, warming her from within.
Coughing and spluttering, she flung the flask back to him. ‘Furies save me, that’sawful.’
Talemir grinned, taking a swig himself. ‘Isn’t it just?’
‘Why in the realms would you give that to someone?’
The warrior shrugged. ‘Looked like you needed it.’
Druedidfeel warmer, less paralysed. The past and her fury still lingered at the frayed edges of her mind, but they were less insistent, less sharp. As she took in her surroundings, she realised she was back in the top room of the tower, with no recollection of how she’d got there.
They were still on the floor. Talemir knelt before her, his great frame blocking her view of the door. Slowly, she stood, ignoring the large hand he offered to help her up.
‘That’s some sword,’ he commented, eyeing the weapon she clutched. ‘May I?’
She batted him away and sheathed the blade. ‘No, you may not.’ The last thing she needed was a Warsword inspecting a weapon she wasn’t meant to have. ‘What are you doing here, anyway?’ she asked, trying to rub the warmth back into her arms.
‘I came up here to take first watch.’
‘Drew the short straw?’
‘Volunteered. There’s no way I’ll sleep. My skin is crawling.’
Drue bit back a nasty comment about whether this particular sensation was in recognition of his own kind, but he seemed to follow her train of thought anyway.
‘I never asked for this,’ he told her, shaking his head and gesturing to himself. As though he were broken, as though she could see the monster within even now.
Try as she might, she couldn’t. She could only see the man, the esteemed Warsword of Thezmarr, his handsome face lined with earnestness and grief.
But that did not mean the shadow wraith wasn’t lurking beneath his skin.
‘How did it happen?’ she asked.
Talemir’s whole body sagged. ‘That’s a long story.’
Drue motioned to the lightning carving through the sky beyond the tower’s window. ‘We have time.’ What she didn’t add was that knowing the enemy was half the battle, and that she’d learn whatever she could to defeat him.
Talemir considered her before putting his flask to his lips again, drinking deeply. ‘I assume this is some ploy to study my weaknesses and destroy me?’ He offered her the liquor again.
Drue took another swig, grimacing at the burn but grateful for the heat in her belly. ‘Guess you’ll have to wait and see.’
