Wings of Shadow

by Nicki Pau Preto

  “You’re allowed to disagree with me—and I hope you continue to do so. But talk to me, okay? I promise I’ll listen. Don’t wait until…”

  “It’s too late?” Latham asked, a crooked smile on his face.

  “I was going to say until you want to punch me in the face, but sure—that works too.”

  Latham laughed, and they shook hands.

  “Thank the gods!” Anders said from across the camp. “Our patrol is at peace once again.”

  Ronyn rolled his eyes.

  While they started on food and boiled water for Tristan to wash with—he longed for a soak in the Eyrie’s hot spring baths, but any hot water at all was a welcome sight—the commander summoned Tristan into his meeting tent.

  Veronyka was already inside, and he took a seat beside her at the small table they’d set up.

  For the first time he noticed the red armband across her biceps. His father had heeded his wishes and made Veronyka his official second-in-command, which meant she had been leading his patrol all this time. Reaching under the table, he took her hand.

  His father relayed the events of the past few days, making any good feelings Tristan had at being free and reunited with his patrol quickly fade away.

  “Hang on,” he said sharply, lurching to his feet. “Avalkyra’s taken the Eyrie? With strixes? How?” He shot that last word at Veronyka.

  “We were at Rushlea,” she said—she obviously meant her and Tristan’s patrol. “I don’t know where they came from or how she got them.”

  “None of us do,” the commander said, indicating that Tristan should sit again. “But we do know that she’s controlling them—she is bonded to the oldest and largest of the flock, the apex strix, and so wields that power over them. She won the Eyrie fair and square. She issued a challenge, and Ignix accepted it.”

  “I didn’t know there was such a thing as a strix apex,” Tristan muttered, retaking his seat. “How many strixes are there?”

  “Two dozen at my best estimate.”

  Tristan nodded. “That’s okay. That’s a number we could beat.”

  “Perhaps,” his father conceded, “if we weren’t already spread so thin. But this time she let us go. Next time I doubt that will be the case.”

  “I’m surprised she honored the rules of the challenge,” Tristan muttered.

  Veronyka shrugged, though Tristan knew she was anything but nonchalant. “Val got what she came for. She challenged Ignix and won. She took the Eyrie, and she took Morra, too.”

  “Wait, she took Morra?”

  Veronyka shook her head. “Not exactly. Morra swore herself to Val,” she corrected, her voice tremulous. “I just can’t figure out why she’d want to serve someone who was trying to destroy the Phoenix Riders—she was a Phoenix Rider, and used to be a priestess of Axura.”

  “Not just Axura,” the commander said. “Morra was a part of a very small, very exclusive Nox subsect within the Axuran Temple. The goddess of night used to be worshipped openly in Pyra, but by the time the empire was founded, they were no longer building temples in her name or sharing sermons about her glory. Hence, the subsect within Axura’s own ministry. Their followers were interested in phoenixes and animal magic, but also shadow magic—a forbidden subject—and strixes, too.”

  Veronyka reared back. “She never told me that.”

  “She never told me that either, but I did some digging when I tracked her down several years back and asked her to come to Azurec’s Eyrie with me. Their sect’s beliefs were complicated and obscure, but I don’t think she worshipped Nox or her dark legacy. She did study the goddess, though, study the magic, the history, and the lore. Of course, everything they learned was theoretical… until now. Perhaps she could not resist seeing the real thing up close. Perhaps there are other levels to this that we do not comprehend.”

  The commander didn’t know about Veronyka’s shadow magic, but he did know that Morra had been an important person to her. His tone had been surprisingly gentle throughout his explanation, and even now his expression was kind.

  Tristan’s, however, was not. “Why would you let her in if you knew she had this… interest in Nox and the strixes? If you knew she was lying?” He liked Morra, but he couldn’t help feeling protective over Veronyka, who was the person who suffered most from this apparent betrayal.

  The commander sighed. “She’s a shadowmage, son—I don’t doubt she lied about a great many things. But she was a Phoenix Rider and loyal to the cause. At the time, allies were few and far between, and the truth was, I needed someone with her skill set. I had no reason not to trust her, despite her scholarly pursuits. Your mother rode with her during the war and risked her life to get the woman to safety afterward. I trusted her judgment, if not my own.”

  Tristan scowled. He supposed none of them could have predicted this, but it grated all the same. Under the table, he squeezed Veronyka’s hand. He should have been there, not sitting around in a cell. He could have helped.

  “We cannot concern ourselves with the decisions of others, however inscrutable,” the commander continued. “She is there, with Avalkyra, and we have Riders keeping constant surveillance. We will know if and when Avalkyra makes a move. For now, we have to turn our attention to the Grand Council.”

  Tristan edged forward in his chair. “What’s happening?”

  “So far, all we know is what we received in Sev’s letter—that Rolan was traveling at the same time as you.”

  Sev. Tristan felt a spike of guilt, having completely forgotten about him with everything that had happened that night. “Where is Sev?”

  “Probably in the stronghold in the Spine,” the commander replied.

  “But we sent Kade—a new apprentice—to check it out,” Veronyka said. “With any luck, he and Sev will be able to sneak away sometime tonight. If not, Kade’ll return in the morning with information, and we’ll devise a rescue plan from there.”

  They sent an apprentice to rescue Sev from a castle? Tristan supposed they didn’t exactly have an excess of manpower at the moment, and at least there was someone there to check things out and report back. It was better than nothing.

  “And Rolan?” he asked, looking between them. He dearly hoped they hadn’t sacrificed their chance at the governor in order to save him.

  “Doriyan and Alexiya are in pursuit,” Veronyka said, and Tristan wondered if she’d heard his thoughts, or if she could read the self-reproach on his face.

  His head spun with all he’d missed out on. Alexiya had seemed to hold nothing but disdain for Doriyan when she’d described him to Veronyka and Tristan in her rooftop home in the Silverwood, and Doriyan himself had been so skittish, Tristan was surprised he’d agreed to join the flock in the first place.

  “They should return before the night is out. They were to locate his carriage and report back—nothing more.”

  “But if my transfer was a ruse…,” Tristan began, and Veronyka nodded grimly.

  “His might have been as well.”

  “So we still don’t know the date of the Grand Council meeting? I thought you had contacts in the capital?”

  “I do,” the commander said, a bit defensively. “The council members have been extremely tight-lipped about the whole thing. We’d hoped Rolan’s travel might indicate it was on the horizon, but if his movements have also been falsified…”

  Voices sounded from outside the tent flap, and Anders poked his head in. “They’re here,” he said, and both the commander and Veronyka moved to follow him, Tristan a step behind.

  Doriyan and Alexiya stood next to the fire, speaking in low murmurs until they saw Tristan and the others approach.

  While Doriyan nodded to them, Alexiya stepped forward to hug Veronyka, keeping a soft, almost maternal hand on her shoulder. Tristan hadn’t realized they’d gotten so close. The last time he’d seen them interact with each other, it had been a challenging sort of relationship, a battle of wills. Now they seemed closer than friends.

  Like us, Rex s
aid from his place with the other phoenixes across the fireside. Tristan reared back, oddly jealous at the thought.

  Bonded?

  Rex gave him a funny look, tilting his head. Family.

  He darted a look at Veronyka, the question on his tongue—but of course, he didn’t need to speak, not to her.

  My father’s sister, she explained. Then added, because obviously Tristan had a dozen more questions, Later.

  “The carriage was headed south just as you said,” Doriyan was explaining as Tristan drew his attention back to the public conversation. “We followed it past Qorlland City, and almost all the way to Stelarbor before we realized it wasn’t him.”

  “It wasn’t Rolan?” asked the commander.

  Doriyan shook his head. “Another decoy.” Apparently Tristan’s patrol had filled him in on their side of things.

  The commander cursed, stalking a few feet away and shoving an agitated hand through his hair.

  “He stayed in the carriage for almost the entire journey,” Alexiya explained to Tristan and Veronyka, though her voice was loud enough for the commander to hear if he felt like listening. “So I grew… impatient.” She smiled somewhat viciously. “I sent a flock of doves inside the carriage. The thing shook and rattled for a good five minutes before the poor bastard finally called for a halt. He was running from the carriage before the wheels fully stopped, swarmed by birds and covered in cuts and scratches. I only got a brief glimpse of his face, but it was enough. Whoever he was, he wasn’t Rolan.”

  “He could have been posing as one of his soldiers, couldn’t he?” Tristan asked as his father returned to the group. “Riding a horse alongside the carriage?”

  Alexiya shook her head. “We’d been watching them for hours, mirrored with our phoenixes. I’d already checked all their faces.”

  “But—where is he?” Tristan asked the group at large. Veronyka’s eyes weren’t on him or Alexiya but on the commander. He wasn’t looking at her or at any of them—his gaze was turned to the east. To the capital city.

  Tristan’s heart clenched. “You don’t think…?”

  “How long until dawn?” Veronyka asked, looking east as well. The sky was still dark—it couldn’t be too far past midnight.

  “It is unlike the council to meet before seven bells. Even on urgent matters. If we leave shortly, we can make it in time.”

  “In time for what? You can’t mean to go through with… with your other plan,” Tristan said, unsure how many others knew of his assassination plot or how much he should share.

  The commander’s gaze flickered, taking in Tristan’s patrol. “Back inside the tent.” Apparently, he’d decided such matters should be kept more private.

  He signaled for Alexiya and Doriyan to join them, but while the commander reclaimed his chair, Tristan didn’t sit. Neither did Veronyka, giving the newcomers a chance to rest.

  “To answer your question—no, my previous plan will no longer work. It relied upon a certain amount of goodwill between myself and the council and the assumption that I’d not risk a chance at reclaiming my old position in the empire. However, given our arrangement with Rolan… the moment he laid eyes on me, he’d know that he’d lost his bargaining chip and that I’d betrayed him. Something he already suspects, given these decoy transfers. I won’t be able to walk two steps through those doors without being accosted.”

  “You couldn’t… but I could,” Veronyka said.

  Tristan stiffened, and everyone else turned to face her.

  “He needs me if he’s to have any claim over the throne—or at least, one that lasts longer than the time it takes for the army to reclaim the city. If I come forward, he’ll have to corroborate my identity. He has to give me that power, if only so he has a chance at taking a slice of it for himself.”

  The commander was surveying her closely, and he looked impressed with what he saw. Veronyka’s poise and confidence was a complete and total change from the last time she’d discussed her parentage and the responsibilities that lay before her. Tristan was proud of her, even if the reality of what she was offering to do made him feel slightly sick.

  “I know it won’t be as simple as that—taking the throne, or… whatever.” She swallowed, showing the first signs of her unease at the prospect. “I’d have to be officially recognized as heir first, but maybe that would be enough for now? A distraction or a delay for the council?”

  The commander was nodding thoughtfully. “Rolan will be forced to support your claim, perhaps even at the expense of his war plans against the Phoenix Riders. You are one of us, after all.…”

  “Plus, it would officially take Avalkyra out of the line of succession,” Doriyan added quietly.

  “While I live, at any rate,” Veronyka added as an afterthought. Tristan’s heart clenched. “Maybe if we do this now, we’ll get the time we need. Then, after, we can… figure out the rest.”

  The rest. As in, her ascension to queen of the empire.

  “Is Rolan the only person with the evidence required to prove your identity?” Tristan asked.

  Sev had told Tristan about the marriage contract and birth certificate he’d seen the lawmaker handling the day he was captured. Was that the same birth certificate Veronyka possessed?

  She nodded. “Avalkyra burned everything else.” She reached up into her hair, and Tristan noticed braids there for the first time. One of them was capped with the arrowhead he’d given her—his heart leapt at the sight, even though it reminded him with a pang that he’d lost his half—and the other two were tied off with golden objects that shimmered in the lantern light. “But I do have her signet ring and Pheronia’s necklace.”

  “Not enough,” the commander said, scrubbing his chin absently. “But if Rolan cooperates, it won’t matter. He’ll fight tooth and nail to get your identity verified and use the same allies he would turn against us to vote in your favor.”

  “She’s still underage,” Alexiya said. “Only just turned seventeen.”

  The commander waved her off. “She can’t officially ascend, but she can still be named heir to the throne. It will give her certain rights, including calling votes—and canceling them.”

  “And after?” Tristan asked, working hard to keep his voice steady. “Rolan will want his Ashfire bride.”

  “I don’t care what he wants,” Veronyka said flatly.

  Alexiya chuckled. “Spoken like a true Ashfire.” The words were said with humor and affection, but Veronyka’s expression faltered.

  “We will worry about after, after,” the commander said firmly. “For now he needs to think it will happen or our plans will fall to pieces.”

  “How long until we depart?” asked Alexiya.

  “Eat and pack up as quickly as possible. The four of us will leave for Aura Nova at once.”

  Tristan blinked. “Four? I’m coming too.”

  “Son, you’ve been in a dank underground cell for six weeks. You need rest. You will remain behind with your patrol and await further instructions.”

  “Seriously?” Tristan said. “If you think I’d let her fly into that viper’s nest without me, you’re the one who needs rest.”

  He squared his shoulders, ready for a fight, and his father filled his lungs, preparing for the same—then, abruptly, he deflated. Sighing, he looked between Tristan and Veronyka. “Oh, very well.”

  Huh. That was a first. Was the commander finally starting to see things Tristan’s way, or was he getting too old and tired to fight him on every point and issue?

  Tristan grinned and followed Veronyka out of the tent.

  Whatever it was, he’d take it.

  This time, I fear we may not survive it.

  - CHAPTER 27 - SEV

  SEV WOKE UP WARM and content, Kade’s arm slung across his stomach and Kade’s body pressed against his back.

  It was still night, Sev thought, or maybe it was just the darkness of the cave—and his hesitance to open his eyes. He rolled over, nuzzling into the exposed skin of Kade’s
neck.

  There was a sharp inhalation of breath, and Kade’s body tensed. “Sev,” he murmured sleepily, relaxing somewhat, but the tension in his muscles soon returned, shifting from surprise to something edged in anticipation. The arm that had been hanging limp across Sev’s middle moved, tightening against his back.

  “Who else?” Sev said, lips moving against Kade’s skin.

  “No one…” Kade paused, swallowing audibly. His pulse was thrumming rapid-fire under his jaw. “No one else.”

  Sev liked that answer. He smiled, feeling the scratch of stubble against his lips as he moved, following the column of Kade’s throat with openmouthed kisses, down to his collarbone.

  The hand at his back twitched, pulling Sev close for a moment before gripping his shirt.

  “We, uh,” Kade said, somewhat breathlessly. “We should get moving. Before daybreak.”

  “Mm-hm,” Sev hummed, unwilling to break contact with Kade’s skin. He’d wormed his hands between them, and though his fingers were clumsy with bandages, he’d managed to start tugging at the laces of Kade’s tunic. “In a few minutes. It’s barely—”

  He twisted, meaning to look around toward the cave mouth, but was stopped short by the rather alarming sight of two great big beetle-black eyes staring back at him.

  He yelped and leapt to his feet, tripping as his legs tangled in the blanket and Jinx squawked in alarm.

  Jinx. He’d forgotten. How had he forgotten?

  She had been looming over them with her wings spread out, surrounding them in a cocoon of warmth. Now that he was out from under her protection, the air was cool enough to cloud in front of his face and set goose bumps rippling across his skin.

  Kade lurched into a sitting position, looking dazed and disheveled, his eyelids heavy, while Sev remained where he stood, arms crossed and feet rooted to the cold stone floor.

  “Jinx,” Kade muttered, “what did you—get out of here,” he said with mild exasperation, finally piecing things together. The phoenix cocked her head in innocent confusion before fluttering away, out the cave mouth. Kade ran a hand through his hair, laughing weakly, before his gaze settled on Sev. “Sorry,” he said ruefully. “She’s too curious for her own good—or for my own good, anyway.”