Page 37 of Slaying the Shadow Prince
‘Doesn’t even hurt, Tal,’ Wilder said through gritted teeth. ‘But I could use some of that fire extract about now.’
Talemir tried to sound casual, but the words came out strained. ‘Thought you hated the stuff.’
‘Not really in a position to be fussy at the moment.’
Talemir forced a laugh and rummaged through his blood-soaked clothes, at last finding the flask and putting it to his friend’s mouth. The amber liquid hit Wilder’s lips, and he grimaced.
‘Gods, drinking that hurts more than the damn wound,’ he spluttered.
‘Is he alright?’ Drue’s worried voice sounded over Talemir’s shoulder.
Wilder groaned as he managed to sit up, more blood pouring from the injury as he did. ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’ He glanced up at Talemir. ‘What is that thing you’re always on about? Something about Warswords and blood and steel?’
Talemir squeezed his shoulder. ‘Warswords are not born. They’re forged with blood and steel,’ he said. ‘But you earned that badge of honour long ago.’
Wilder closed his eyes against the pain. ‘So I keep telling you, mentor.’
‘Drink your vial from Aveum.’ Talemir looked around for the young man’s satchel, praying that the healing properties from the springs would cleanse the wound.
But Wilder shook his head. ‘I’m saving that for something more important.’
‘Stubborn bastard.’ Talemir left his friend in Adrienne’s care. The young general seemed to have the sutures in hand, and he knew Wilder well enough to know that he’d prefer not to be made a fuss of.
Outside, the storm had broken, and atop a crest in the terrain was Drue, staring out into the blood-red sky as dawn swallowed the night. After checking on the rangers, he snatched something from the ground and went to her.
There, he stood beside her, quiet for a time.
‘Thank you,’ Drue said, her voice cracking. Her whole body was rigid, like she was fighting to contain everything she felt within. She cleared her throat. ‘Thank you for saving Adrienne.’
‘You’re welcome.’
A new silence hung between them, a truce of sorts. Until Drue glanced down and jumped at what she saw in his grasp.
Smiling, he offered it to her – the heart of a wraith. ‘I considered flowers, but I thought you’d like this more…’
He half expected her to recoil, to cry out in disgust. She didn’t. Instead, she reached for the bloody mass, the giant thing dwarfing her hand as she took it, her fingers brushing his, sending a thrill through his bones.
He watched her as she studied it. ‘It’s truly the only way to kill a wraith, isn’t it?’ she breathed in wonder.
‘Yes,’ he told her. ‘Perhaps it’ll be mine you hold one day…’
A smile tugged at her lips. ‘Perhaps I’ll carve it out for myself.’
9
Drue
When at long last dawn spilt its golden rays upon the storm-ravaged lands, Drue stood at the watchtower well with Adrienne as they tried to wash the blood and grime from their skin. Together, they surveyed their company with resigned determination.
‘You have to go back,’ Drue declared, noting the numerous injuries, the worst of which belonged to Wilder Hawthorne. He could barely walk, his face pale, his brow covered in a sheen of sweat. It was no surprise. He and Talemir had taken the brunt of the wraiths’ attack.
‘He needs a healer,’ Drue added before nodding to the rest of their group. ‘Many of them do.’
‘What exactly are you proposing?’ Adrienne asked tersely.
‘That Talemir and I go on. We have to find Gus, Dratos and the others. We have to find the lair and destroy it. Besides, I gave Talemir my word that I would show him the steel source.’
‘You want to forge ahead with only a half-wraith for company?’
