Page 43 of Thorns & Fire
As though he sensed her conflicting emotions, Torj’s hand found her shoulder.The fleeting warmth calmed her, offering a solace that she was yet to find elsewhere.
‘Lead the way, Embervale,’ he said, his voice dancing along her bones.
Putting some much-needed distance between them, Wren madefor the forest and wove through the dense trees, noting how even here, parts had flourished.Toadstools had sprung up from the ground, and wild geranium had bloomed, along with dog violet and bluebells.Before, this place had been cold, with a haunted feel about it.Every part of her mind was screaming that this couldn’t be the same forest she’d roamed only six months earlier...but she couldn’t deny the floral scents on the breeze, or the rustle of wildlife in the undergrowth.
On foot, Wren took her party deep into the forest, to where she had happened upon the bush all that time ago.Back then, it had been a mass of thorns and leaves.But now...
‘Here it is,’ she murmured, dropping to her knees before a tangled mass of verdant shrubbery.It was competing for space with dandelions with jagged leaves thrust skywards and several wild poppies, their scarlet heads nodding as she disturbed their patch.
Wren pushed the other flowers aside.Heart-shaped leaves, in a tapestry of green...Exactly as she’d left it.Only now it had blooms adorning its stems.Every petal bore the luminous quality of pearls, their edges ruffled like waves breaking on a midnight shore, guarded by thorns sharp enough to draw blood.
‘I didn’t misidentify it,’ she muttered, reaching for the silvery-white flowers unfurling from the greenery, frowning.‘Itisa silvertide rose...’
‘Then what’s the problem?’Kipp asked over her shoulder.
Wren sat back on her heels.‘I don’t know.That’s the problem.’
Dessa sat down beside her and unsheathed her own harvesting knife.‘What do you need?’
Still in shock, Wren let her friend’s question ground her as she turned to her.‘See?What would I do without you?’
Dessa laughed.‘I’m sure you’d manage.But go on...Tell me how to help.’
Nodding, Wren pointed.‘Samples of everything.Those there: cut just above the root; don’t damage the leaves.I want some whole from root to petal, some cuttings, and samples of the soil too.’
‘Understood,’ Dessa said.‘How are we transporting everything?’
From a narrow pocket in her satchel, Wren pulled out the special wrapping Farissa had given her.It was soft in her hands, with a pale silver hue to the shimmering fabric.
‘Is that—’
‘Silkspore, yes,’ Wren told her.
‘And for those of us not versed in weird alchemy?’Kipp quipped.
‘Silkspore is what Master Alchemists use to transport living samples of plants,’ Wren explained, carefully unfolding the material on the ground.‘It has preservation properties that maintain the perfect humidity and temperature for the wrapped specimen, while naturally repelling any insects or fungi.’
She took her own secateurs in hand, their familiar weight – not at all their sentimental value – grounding her.It was delicate work, and the forest seemed to hold its breath around them.The only sounds were the soft snip of their tools and the occasional rustle of leaves overhead, the Bear Slayer and Kipp saying nothing.
‘We need to be careful not to overharvest,’ Wren explained to Dessa in a hushed tone.She didn’t know why she was whispering, only that the space seemed somehow sacred.‘Take only what we need and leave enough for the plant to recover and spread.’Her fingers ghosted over a cluster of tiny white flowers.‘See these?They’re just beginning to bloom.In a few weeks, they’ll turn to seed...’
Wren could still hardly believe what she was seeing: the silvertide rose spilling across the ground like a river, each bloom like a captured star.How had it flourished like this?How did it have an almost ethereal quality when the roses back at Drevenor did not?
Both she and Dessa worked quietly, and Wren was increasingly grateful for her friend’s presence.‘Whenever I can repay the favour, Dessa, please let me know,’ she said.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Dessa replied.‘It’s not every day an alchemist can say that she helped an heir of Delmira save the midrealms.’
Wren laughed.‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.’
The moment was short-lived, though, a curse bubbling from Wren’s lips as she cut her finger on the rose’s razor-sharp thorns.
Dessa grimaced on her behalf.‘They’re like little daggers, aren’t they?’
Wren nodded, sucking the blood welling at her thumb.
‘How much more do you need?’Torj asked, scanning the silkspore that was nearly at capacity and the jars of soil around them before lifting his gaze to the canopy to measure the dip of the sun.
‘We’re nearly done,’ Wren told him, noting the shift in the dappled light herself.
