Wings of Shadow

by Nicki Pau Preto

  And there, waiting to greet them, were more Phoenix Riders.

  Veronyka was at the front, with Tristan standing just behind her. As she greeted Alexiya, he moved to speak to the members of his patrol. Kade landed near the back of the group, so the other conversations were too quiet for Sev to hear as he dismounted.

  Kade got to his feet first, and Sev was surprised when he saw Veronyka there, hugging him tightly. Sev and Kade had spent only six or seven weeks apart, but apparently Kade and Veronyka had grown closer in those weeks than Sev had realized.

  If he was caught off guard by their familiarity, he was completely shocked when Veronyka released Kade only to hug him next. His shock must have shown on his face, because Kade grinned broadly at him from over her shoulder.

  “I’m so glad we got you out of there,” Veronyka said, releasing him. “And thank you for everything you did. For us, for Tristan.”

  “Oh, it was nothing,” Sev muttered, embarrassed—but immensely pleased—by her praise. First Kade, now her?

  Tristan himself turned up then. It was strange to face each other without bars or the barrier of Sev’s disguise between them. Sev extended his hand, but Tristan only gripped it long enough to pull him into a hug too. Once again Sev found himself somewhat flustered by the attention.

  “Good to see you out of that dungeon,” Tristan said, drawing back but keeping a hand on Sev’s shoulder, fixing him with a rather dazzling smile. White teeth. Dimples. It was like getting punched in the stomach. In contrast, the grin on Kade’s face slipped. “We need to get you out of these,” Tristan mused, pulling on the neckline of Sev’s shirt, and Kade’s expression turned fractionally darker, a glower that Sev found himself surprisingly fond of all of a sudden. It made him feel elated and desperate in equal measure.

  Distracted by his muddled thoughts, it took him a moment to understand Tristan’s words. Then he remembered he still wore Tristan’s dirty Rider gear from when they’d swapped clothes inside the dungeon. He suspected the clothes didn’t suit him, and they were too big and in need of washing.

  “I’ll find him something,” Kade interjected, a bit possessive again. It should have been funny—unnecessary, even—but no matter how much Sev wanted to be Kade’s, he couldn’t. Not for long anyway. Not without dragging Kade down. Not without making him choose.

  Tristan didn’t seem to notice Kade bristling next to him, or maybe he was distracted by Sev pressing a hand to his chest, pulling aside the padded leather armor. It was clear from both Tristan’s and Kade’s startled reactions that they thought Sev meant to get out of his clothes right then and there.

  “Sev, what—” Kade began, but then Sev found what he was looking for. He withdrew the obsidian arrowhead and held it out. Tristan took an unconscious step forward.

  “I thought I’d lost it…,” he murmured, taking it gingerly from Sev. He swiped a thumb across its smooth surface—Sev hoped he’d managed to clean away all traces of his blood—in a practiced gesture. Then he turned to Veronyka, whose expression went from puzzlement to warmth at the sight of it. That was when Sev noticed a matching piece, clearly the other half, dangling at the end of one of her braids.

  Heat rushed to his face, as if he were witnessing something intensely personal and private.

  “Thank you,” Tristan said, words hushed, “for keeping it safe.”

  Sev cleared his throat. “Of course.” It was the least he could do, really… and also, he realized, the last. He was suddenly, completely out of things to do or offer, out of anything worthwhile to give. Kade said it didn’t matter, but Sev had a hard time believing it.

  As Tristan tucked the arrowhead away, Veronyka stepped in to introduce him to Kade.

  Sev looked between them all, believing for a single, precious heartbeat that he could exist here with them. That maybe he wasn’t as out of place as he’d feared, that what he had to offer truly didn’t matter.

  The greetings over, Veronyka led them and the rest of Tristan’s patrol members into the center of their camp, near the cook fire, which was set up in between several of the massive, twisting roots.

  Sev couldn’t take his eyes off the gigantic tree that soared up behind it. It looked ancient, and had a massive gaping mouth in the front, just visible in the gray light of the morning. Veronyka saw his attention and smirked.

  There was a rustle and the scrape of footsteps; then out walked a group of around thirty or forty people. Above, in the gloom, the branches filled with phoenixes.

  Sev’s mouth dropped open, and he wasn’t the only one.

  Veronyka was looking around at them all, beaming. “I know you must be tired—” she began, but Anders cut her off.

  “Not tired enough,” he said, shaking his head, and a couple of the others laughed or nodded, jaws still slack.

  She hesitated, waiting until a man stepped to the front of the group. He smiled tentatively at her before turning to the others. “My name is Theryn. Welcome to Haven.”

  Haven? Theryn gestured for Sev and the others to follow him as he walked a slow circuit around the back of the massive tree, where gardens sat in neat little rows—morning dew clinging to sprouting leaves—and picketed animals munched on grain. The majority of Haven’s inhabitants had already dispersed to start their work for the day, pouring feed into troughs or pulling up roots, scrubbing clothes in great wooden buckets sloshing with water or hanging sodden, freshly laundered garments on lines to dry.

  “I started Haven a little over seventeen years ago,” Theryn said, surveying his small, gently buzzing community like a king taking stock of his vast, sprawling lands. “The empire doesn’t know of its existence—nobody does. It’s a safe place for anyone who needs it,” Theryn finished. “For anyone on the wrong side of the empire.”

  Animages. That much was obvious, given the phoenixes still perched on the branches above, now mingling with the new arrivals. Sev spotted Jinx at once, drawn to her distinctive purple plumage and her now familiar, inquisitive chirrup, though there were other females as well. Veronyka’s phoenix, for certain, and several others besides, but Jinx was youngest, her violet accents softer, subtler than the rest.

  Their human bondmates were easy enough to pick out too, shifting and reacting to their phoenixes as if tethered by a string. Some were clearly veterans of the Blood War, with the haunted eyes and war scars to prove it, while others looked eager and untested, probably newly bonded when the war broke out and too young to fight.

  By the looks on some of their faces, they were just as awed to discover these new-fangled Phoenix Riders as Veronyka and the others were to discover them.

  But there weren’t just Phoenix Riders. Among their ranks were rescues, runaways, escaped bondservants… people like Sev and Kade.

  “Despite our seclusion and secrecy, we’re always trying to grow, to seek out animages in dire circumstances—and Phoenix Riders too. There are dozens more in Arboria alone.”

  “There are other Phoenix Riders in Arboria?” Kade asked in disbelief. Sev had to agree. The fact there were any at all was extraordinary enough.

  “You’d be surprised how many took refuge here. Arboria was neutral in the war, after all, and the trees provide superior coverage. Many prefer their solitude, but Erend joined us only last year. Whatever they choose, they know we’re here, that we’re an option, and that’s a start.”

  Next, Theryn led them inside the giant tree. It was smooth and hollowed out, like the inside of a walnut, with a main living space in the center and stairs winding upward into the shadowy trunk and out of sight. People worked inside too, wrangling small children or weaving baskets, and everywhere were animals: cats and dogs, chipmunks and squirrels, all scratching and scampering and crawling over one another. There was a lively but peaceful feeling about the place, the kind of steady dependability that Sev had had precious little of in his life.

  It was the idea of waking up and going to bed in the same place every day, of knowing the world would be the same in the morning.

>   It was safety.

  Sev’s heart surged with a kind of desperate, painful longing at the idea that he might have grown up in such a place. That Kade might have too. He glanced at Kade now, whose face was shining with wonder, and felt an entirely different kind of longing rise up.

  After their tour, they sat around a large cook fire to have breakfast.

  An older woman called Agneta fluttered around the fire, ladling great dollops of porridge into wooden bowls and making sure that Sev, Tristan, and some of their skinnier counterparts ate second helpings. Kade ate twice without prompting, and she beamed at him. The majority of Haven’s occupants had eaten during their tour, leaving the newcomers to themselves.

  After they finished eating, Tristan stood, announcing that he wanted a quick meeting with his Riders to share reports and get on the same page.

  “We’ll leave you to it, then,” said Theryn, reaching for Agneta, who was busy gathering empty breakfast dishes. She allowed herself to be steered away, so all that remained were the members of Tristan’s patrol, Kade, and Sev.

  He wondered with a hot sense of shame if he would be ushered away next, or if he should take the hint and depart on his own, when Tristan reclaimed his seat next to him.

  “You’re not leaving, are you?” he asked Sev, who was hovering slightly over the log, uncertain.

  “Oh, I…”

  “It won’t take long,” Veronyka promised, from Tristan’s other side. “And I want to make sure you’re in the loop.”

  Sev wanted to ask why—he had nothing of value to offer—but he couldn’t deny he was relieved to be included.

  “So… how is he?” asked Lysandro, leaning forward in his seat. “The commander?”

  “He’s stable,” Tristan said. “Hestia, the healer, performed emergency surgery last night.”

  “Hestia’s here?” Sev blurted, a wave of relief crashing through him. “What about Yara?”

  “Her cover is still intact, and she’s on her way to Rolan’s town house as we speak. Hestia received word this morning. All the captains were summoned to Aura Nova to await orders.”

  “Speaking of waiting… Are we to remain here while the commander heals?” asked Ronyn. “What about the Grand Council and the war?”

  “They’ll start by marshaling the provincial armies,” Tristan replied. “Then they’ll send them to the northern border to organize the attack.”

  “How long will that take?” Ronyn asked, voice tense.

  “Weeks, if they await their full force. But they could muster a company large enough to take Pyra in mere days. It could have been even sooner had Lord Rolan not depleted Ferro’s ranks with his recent ambitions. So I suppose we should thank him for that.”

  “Over my dead body.” Kade scowled.

  “Over his,” Anders clarified. “Never mind the empire—what about the Shadow Queen?” he pressed.

  “The who?” Tristan repeated.

  “That’s what the servants at Prosperity were calling her. Avalkyra Ashfire, the Shadow Queen.”

  Veronyka snorted. “She’ll love that,” she muttered darkly.

  “What does she want?” Ronyn asked. “What is she after?”

  Everyone looked to Veronyka. She opened her mouth—but hesitated before responding. “I… I don’t know.”

  “Surely you must have some idea,” Latham pressed.

  “I know what she did want,” Veronyka said. “She wanted to rewrite the past, to reclaim the throne, the crown, the titles and allegiances she saw as her due.”

  “But now?” Tristan prompted.

  She looked up at him. “She knows she can’t have them, and she’d rather destroy everything she once held dear than be denied. She is no longer a Phoenix Rider queen, beloved of her people and commander of flocks. Now she commands a different kind of army, one capable only of destruction.”

  “Then we should strike back at her right away,” Anders said, looking around. “Shouldn’t we?”

  Kade grew tense next to Sev. Of the people here, he was the only one to have actually been present when the strix army attacked.

  “We would likely take massive losses,” Tristan said.

  “Plus, we still have the empire to think about,” added Latham.

  “But the longer we wait, the more prepared she’ll be,” countered Anders.

  “There has to be another way,” Kade said. He didn’t speak again until everyone’s attention was on him. Kade was a man of few words, so when he spoke, people tended to listen. “A different way to defeat her, other than open warfare. Those creatures…” He trailed off. “Everywhere they landed, things died. The grass blackened and turned brittle like trees after a forest fire, only there was no smoke, no heat… just nothing, nothing at all. Wood became charcoal, and stone crumbled. Birds fell from the sky, lifeless, and the other animals that drew too near… There were heaps of them scattered across the cobblestones, dried-out husks as crisp and colorless as dead leaves.”

  A collective shudder ran through the group, and the bright morning felt suddenly cold and foreboding. Everyone looked scared and somber… everyone except Veronyka. Her eyes were bright, her expression determined.

  “You’re right. I’ll find a way.”

  “It’s not all on you,” Tristan said, in a way that felt like a reminder.

  “Isn’t it?” Veronyka said, so softly Sev barely heard it, but everyone was looking at her.

  “No, it isn’t,” Tristan said firmly.

  She and Tristan shared a look, and whatever unspoken thing passed between them, Veronyka nodded, sitting taller. She glanced around at the others and expelled a breath.

  “Of course not. We’ll find a way.”

  There was a strange mix of softness and steel in her words—vulnerability and determination in equal measure. She had come a long way from the barefooted girl he had once met.

  Despite the commander’s injury and the impending war, Sev was feeling… not optimistic, exactly, but slightly more balanced and reassured as they broke apart to get some sleep. They were safe, at least for now, and it was good to be involved, even just as a spectator. Even if it couldn’t last.

  As they split up, though, one of the occupants of Haven stepped forward to direct Sev to the sleeping quarters inside the massive tree. He was confused for a moment, but then he realized it was because he wasn’t a Rider. Veronyka must have told them before his arrival. The Riders slept in tents outside, and everyone else slept inside the tree.

  Kade opened his mouth as if to object, but stalled out, uncertain. What could he say? Sev didn’t want to be some… some kept man in Kade’s tent. How embarrassing.

  The truth was, he didn’t belong with them. He wouldn’t be going on patrols, wouldn’t need to be roused in the middle of the night to take over a shift.… He wasn’t a Phoenix Rider, which meant that he had no reason to sleep outside with them. No reason to sleep next to Kade.

  “Thank you,” he said to the woman.

  Kade reared back in surprise, his eyes wide and maybe even hurt, but Sev pushed that aside and followed her.

  No matter how much he tried to help or convince himself he belonged here, there would always be this barrier between him and Kade, a line that Sev would be unable to cross. Kade deserved a life in the sky, and Sev would do nothing but drag him down. And he couldn’t do that, not to Kade.

  And so, eventually, just as they had that night, Kade would go one way and Sev would have to go the other.

  Were we meant to spread our magic like fire—lighting, warming… consuming?

  - CHAPTER 34 - TRISTAN

  THE COMMANDER AWOKE THE following evening.

  Tristan had just returned from patrol, Anders taking his place as he came to a landing on the outskirts of Haven’s central clearing. It was a relief to be outside again, back in the saddle and flying with Rex after so long inside Rolan’s dungeon. He had also spent the morning training, and though he was rusty—and had the bumps and bruises to prove it—Tristan reveled at the chan
ce to hold a spear and bow again. It felt good to hack and punch and knock down his patrol members, only to laugh and joke and help each other up.

  Haven might have been well hidden, but he wanted to ensure they maintained regular training as well as surveillance of the area. He didn’t relish the thought of any more surprises, and though he didn’t know how long they’d be here, he wanted to be sharp if and when their next conflict came.

  Not that he was in a rush to leave—not with war on their doorstep and Veronyka’s aunt commanding an army of demons from myth and legend. It was nice to take a breather and to see that at least some of Veronyka’s family wasn’t hell-bent on tearing the world apart.

  The four of them didn’t get to spend that much time together, but when they did, the family dynamic shone through their simple interactions. Agneta and Alexiya bickered constantly, but even as they argued and snapped at each other, Alexiya helped her mother cook and clean, and Agneta fussed over the state of her daughter’s clothing and patched her leathers when Alexiya wasn’t looking.

  Theryn was clearly the strong, silent type, which turned his mother and sister’s constant squabbling into a wash of welcome noise that banished any potential for awkwardness. He just smiled and shook his head or watched Veronyka—he was always watching Veronyka.

  This slice of sanctuary had been built by him, and it was clear he’d had his seemingly dead daughter in mind when he’d created it. Alexiya—for all her bluntness—was warmer and more loving than Val could have ever been. And though Tristan hadn’t known the grandmother who helped raise Veronyka, her father’s mother fussed and fluttered about, doting on her and bringing out soft, tender smiles on Veronyka’s face.

  In fact, after Tristan unsaddled Rex and approached the fire for dinner, Veronyka was already seated, being stuffed full of food by Agneta.

  She smiled ruefully at him but allowed herself to be forced into second and third helpings. Once spotted, Tristan was plied with more than he could possibly eat as well, the old woman tut-tutting at how thin he was.