Wings of Shadow

by Nicki Pau Preto

  Ivan chuckled, nodding.

  “Every few months we send out scouts, looking for others,” Jonny explained. “Hanging out in taverns and the like. Ivan was working on the docks in Estia.”

  The others shared their stories too: tales of being chased from their homes or hidden away by family members until various contacts or lucky encounters found them here.

  “All tragedies, every one,” Jonny said, “but it’s Theo’s story that keeps me up at night.”

  The woman in question was standing just outside the glow of the fire, unseen, until Jonny mentioned her name.

  “Is that why you’re last to wake every morning?” Theo said, causing many in the group to jump in surprise. “I thought it was laziness.”

  Her voice was flat, and Sev couldn’t tell if she was joking or not, but Jonny seemed to take it in stride. “That too, Theo, that too—but you lurking in the shadows doesn’t help much either.”

  “Sorry to remind you of my hardships. I’ll lurk elsewhere.”

  She marched off, and everyone glanced around uneasily at one another. “Oh, don’t worry about her,” Jonny said with an airy wave of his hand. “All doom and gloom—not that I blame her.”

  The words were light, but Jonny’s gaze was thoughtful—maybe even concerned—as it searched the darkness where Theo had disappeared.

  “That’s what happens when you lose your bondmate,” said Rosalind quietly, and Sev frowned. He hadn’t known that Theo was a Phoenix Rider. She was around thirty years old, tall and fair with wildly curling red hair and freckles. She was stoic and unsociable, and spent more time alone than with any of the animals. Sev hadn’t even been sure she was an animage.

  “Her phoenix died?” asked Veronyka.

  No one answered, and a sense of foreboding filled the silence, giving it weight.

  “I daresay that would be some kind of mercy compared to the truth,” Gus muttered, and several heads bobbed their agreement.

  “Theo’s patrol was still in training when the war broke out. This was early on, mind you. Avalkyra had fled to Pyra, and there were rumors of rebellion and separation, but nothing official yet. Still, the Feather-Crowned Queen couldn’t very well abscond in the night with young hatchlings and schoolchildren—or at least, that was how she put it,” Jonny said, words disdainful. “And so, inevitably, people were left behind. The entire training ground was filled with young Phoenix Riders and their teachers, who were technically innocent of Avalkyra’s machinations—but also prime suspects for any Phoenix Rider insurgency. Times were precarious, and as I understand it, they were held as political prisoners.”

  The way he said the words seemed to imply that it was an incorrect term.

  “Hostages?” Tristan asked.

  Jonny tilted his head. “In a way. The empire had it in their heads they could convince the captured Riders to fight for them. They tried all manner of things… torture, bribery, cruel tests and tricks, but of course there was no way to guarantee their loyalty, and even if the humans could be swayed…”

  “Phoenixes won’t willingly fight each other,” said Veronyka.

  “They can be provoked, of course, and Azurec knows they tried,” Jonny said bleakly. “What it came down to was trust and control. Think if it were you—if they put you in your saddle and let you loose, would you follow orders… or escape? Rider and phoenix were only of use to the empire when they were together, but they were also their most dangerous and difficult to control that way too. It was a lost cause. Pity.”

  “Why a pity?” Sev asked, confused—but then realization dawned.

  Jonny nodded grimly. “While they were experimenting, the Phoenix Riders were still of value to them. As soon as Pyra officially separated, everything went downhill. The war began in earnest between the empire and the Phoenix Riders, and those they held in captivity were now a liability. Since they couldn’t be trusted or used to benefit the empire, the council’s first order of business was to eliminate the threat.”

  Even though he’d been expecting it—had heard the stories—Sev’s stomach clenched.

  “Bloody slaughter,” said Rosalind. “Apprentices and trainers, phoenixes and eggs—bonded, unhatched… didn’t matter.”

  “But how could such a motion get voted through?” Veronyka demanded angrily. “They were children! Untested and half-trained. Innocent.”

  “I believe it was a wartime decree,” Jonny said, glancing at Ivan, who nodded gravely. “It didn’t require the full council’s approval. Some nonsense rule that gives additional power to the general during military conflicts. The general is usually the king or queen, even if it’s just a formality, so I don’t think anyone realized the danger of such a law when there’s no one on the throne. Pheronia had not officially been crowned, so it gave General Marcellan huge amounts of power… though I suspect Rast was pulling the strings even then.”

  “Rast… where have I heard that name before?” Tristan asked, brows knit together.

  “It’s General Rast now. Marcellan died in the war, but Rast was his protégé. Young, hungry for success, and ruthless. He came from nothing—born and bred in the Aura Nova slums—but he had grand ambitions. From what I’ve heard, he was behind the attempts to convert the Phoenix Riders as well.”

  “But I thought you said Theo’s phoenix wasn’t dead,” Sev said, confused.

  “They killed most—but not all. Rast was just getting started, you see. For all his brutality, he wasn’t stupid, and was always looking for opportunities. The apprentices might have proven impossible to turn and utilize as weapons outside the empire, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be wielded within. Just because Avalkyra was unwilling to negotiate for their lives didn’t mean no one would.”

  Sev frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Their families,” Tristan said, straightening in his seat. “Who were their parents?”

  Jonny pointed at him. “Good question. The training grounds were held on lockdown for months, and Rast did his homework. He handpicked those with significant ties… not to Avalkyra or the Phoenix Riders, but inside the empire itself. Remember, before the war broke out, it was common practice for animages of high social standing to join the Phoenix Riders. It was considered a worthy military posting, and Rast found he had quite a few highborn children in his midst. He convinced Marcellan to spare them.”

  “For what?” asked Sev dubiously.

  “At first they were simple political hostages,” Jonny said, poking at the fire. “It was an easy matter to guarantee their families’ continued loyalty and support in exchange for their child’s life. The massacres in the training grounds surely convinced them the general and his right-hand man were serious. That’s how Rast was voted to replace Marcellan even though there were many more qualified commanders. He was only a captain then. He even got himself the old Pyraean governor’s mansion on Marble Row—the Strongwings died in the Blood War, and of course Pyra was no longer a province of the empire—and other comforts besides.”

  “But that was seventeen years ago. They can’t have been captives all this time?” Tristan said.

  “No, not as such,” Jonny said, his tone changing, his lips pursing as if he were only now reaching the most distasteful part of the story—which, Sev realized, was an appalling thought. “Most of this was swept under the rug. The massacre, the prisoners, and their attempts to convert them. All of it lumped together as part of the horror that was the Blood War, but us animages know that there was much more still to come. And General Rast was at the forefront. I doubt it was his specific idea, but he spearheaded the registry and the magetax and was responsible for enforcing it—quite violently—in the early days of its conception. They say in those first few months, he dragged in hundreds a week. Any guesses how he did it? I mean, for a non-mage, he had an uncanny ability to sniff out animages in hiding.”

  Sev’s stomach flipped over. “The captives. He used animages to find other animages.”

  “Still uses,” said Rosalind.
“They work for the registry to this very day.”

  “Gods,” muttered Veronyka, and she wasn’t the only one. Curses and mutters broke out over the small group.

  “They didn’t do it willingly, of course, but with their phoenixes also in captivity… If they step a toe out of line, Rast will execute their bondmate. If their parents rescind their support—and annual monetary tributes—he’ll kill their child.”

  “But why don’t they come forward? Appeal to the council? If they’re powerful, influential people in their own right, couldn’t they undermine or supplant him?” Tristan asked, outraged.

  “I’m sure some of them considered it. But the tide changed quickly after the war, and it suddenly became an awful liability to have a Phoenix Rider in the family. These once-apprentices were saved from scandal, trial, or imprisonment. Whatever blight might have been on their family name from being on the wrong side of the war was wiped away; in fact, most people don’t even know that they’d ever trained to be Phoenix Riders. Better that than what General Rast could have done if they’d refused: tear down their whole families, brand them as Phoenix Rider sympathizers, rebels, and traitors, and probably accuse them of keeping phoenixes in the capital to boot. It would be his word against theirs, and in the current climate…”

  “We’re villains again,” said Rosalind with a heavy sigh.

  “We never stopped being villains,” Ivan countered. “But now we are a threat again. I wouldn’t put it past the council to act first and think later. These families and their wayward children are stuck.”

  “But what does this have to do with Theo?” asked Tristan. “How did she end up here, and where is her phoenix?”

  “She and her best friend—a new trainee, but unbonded at the time of the war—tried to make an escape when things took a turn for the worse. Sneaking through storm drains or something. Theo made it out, but before she could reach back and help her friend and her phoenix through, they were caught. She ran, hoping to get help, but they chased her out of the city. Meanwhile, her friend claimed her name and her bondmate. That way Theo’s phoenix wouldn’t be executed.”

  “Why hasn’t she tried to go to her family?” Tristan pressed.

  Jonny shook his head. “She doesn’t dare. She and her family were never particularly close. She thinks if she told them the truth, they’d stop paying.”

  “And then Rast would kill her phoenix,” Veronyka whispered.

  “And her friend too, I’d wager,” said Jonny. “And so Theo stays here, alone, paying a different kind of price. The prisoners work for the registry, which has offices inside General Rast’s own home. He had an addition built on—to keep a close eye on his work, he claimed, but he needed to keep a close eye on his prisoners instead. As for the phoenixes… nobody knows where they are for certain. Theo and I used to talk about rescues back in the day and even snooped around the arena once—but the drain she used to escape through was closed off, and we couldn’t find any other way in. Besides, we have no idea if the phoenixes are still inside.”

  Sev looked around the fire at those who had bonded to a phoenix. They all seemed tense, uneasy in a way that reminded him of how it had felt when Kade had run off on Pyrmont with two soldiers in pursuit and Sev hadn’t known if he was alive or dead. The not knowing was worse than knowing.… Even his parents’ deaths, which had shattered his world beyond repair, had been sure and final. He had seen them die, which had given him some sense of closure. It had allowed him to move on, painful as it was.

  Theo hadn’t been given that chance.

  Surely she knew her bondmate was alive, but that was probably all she knew—and the separation must be like an open wound that refused to heal. Never mind the friend who had risked everything to take her place… No doubt that debt weighed on her as well.

  Quiet descended after that, everybody seemingly lost in their own thoughts. Veronyka stared intently into the fire, unseeing, while Tristan studied her, a frown on his face.

  Meanwhile, Sev stared at Kade.

  When Kade had been run through with a spear, Sev had felt the ground quake, as if the world were breaking apart beneath his feet. It had felt as if he had been gutted, and carrying Kade’s limp body across the battlefield had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. But no matter how shaken he had felt—no matter how broken his heart, how palpable his fear—it had been better to be there, to have Kade in his arms, than it would have been to be apart. To not know what had happened, or worse, to hear it secondhand from someone else hours or days later. People died and went missing all the time in war; people were lost without their loved ones ever knowing how or why.

  But Sev could choose to be there. No matter how hard. No matter how devastating.

  Sev could be there.

  Even if it was temporary. Even if they were destined for different futures, certain to be pulled apart eventually… if what Kade wanted now was Sev by his side, Sev would be there for whatever time they had left.

  Veronyka got abruptly to her feet, stalking off into the darkness, and Tristan followed her.

  Not long after, Anders drew out his lyre, playing several quiet songs that threaded through the silence and cut the lingering tension.

  Rosalind jumped in with a sweet, melodic voice that was ruined when Anders turned the performance into a duet, adding swear words whenever possible and causing Jonny to spit out his drink and Latham to double over with laughter.

  Slowly the group started to disperse. When Kade got to his feet, Sev did as well.

  It was difficult to see outside the pool of firelight, but Kade’s silhouette became visible as Sev drew near. Reaching out, he grasped Kade’s hand, hoping to catch him before he reached his tent.

  The instant Sev’s fingertips touched Kade’s, however, Kade jerked back. He seemed startled as he faced Sev—had he not heard approaching footsteps?—but the emotion quickly turned to anger.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded.

  “I—can we talk?” Sev asked.

  Kade’s expression was barely visible in the gloom, but Sev could feel his gaze cutting through to his core.

  He expected Kade to deny him, to balk—to unleash the pent-up frustration he emanated with every shallow breath he breathed. Instead, he marched away, not to his tent, which was clustered in a group with the others, but away from camp and into the darkness of the forest.

  It reminded Sev of when they’d first met, talking treason with Trix as they walked among the trees.

  Kade continued until Haven and the warm glow of the fire were lost from view. Sev’s eyes adjusted enough so he could pick out Kade pacing between the trees.

  “You’ve been avoiding me for days,” he burst out, rounding on Sev. “Now, suddenly, you want to talk?”

  “I…,” Sev said.

  “I thought we were in this together,” Kade said. The look of hurt he sent Sev’s way was enough to knock the wind out of him.

  “I’m sorry,” Sev said, his voice catching on the word.

  That show of emotion—or maybe the word itself—seemed to calm some of Kade’s anger. He ran his hands through his hair. He laughed, though it was a hollow sound. “I can’t believe after everything we’ve been through…” He trailed off, jaw working. He tried again. “How can this, the idea of being together, be the thing that breaks you? That breaks us?”

  Us. That word had always held power for Sev. It had been the thing that made him truly commit to Trix and Kade and their cause. The lure of “us” and all it promised.

  “What are you so afraid of?” Kade finished on a whisper.

  Fear. Sev hated to admit that’s what this was. He was afraid to want, afraid to get what he wanted and then lose it, as he was surely destined to do. To lose to death or war was one thing, but to lose because of his own shortcomings, his lack of anything to offer… That was something much worse.

  “It’s just,” he began, swallowing around the lump in his throat, “even if everything goes right—even if we all somehow
survive this—what’s the best-case scenario? I’ll never be one of you. I’ll never be good enough.”

  “Good enough for what?” Kade demanded, angry again.

  “For you!” Sev shouted. “For you and the Riders. I’ll always be on the outside… but I don’t care anymore.”

  Kade moved closer to him now, so close that Sev could trace the tense lines of his mouth and count every rapid-fire blink of his eyes, trying desperately to understand.

  “I’d rather be there and on the outside than not at all,” Sev finished.

  Silence pulsed between them.

  “You’re wrong,” Kade said, his body unlocking bit by bit, muscle by muscle. He tilted his head, considering.

  “About what?” Sev asked, aware of every shift of movement, trying to gauge Kade’s words. His actions.

  “A lot of things,” he said. Sev let out a huff of laughter, though Kade remained serious. “But you were never on the outside. Not with me.”

  And then they were kissing; Sev didn’t know if he’d been the one to move or if it was Kade, but his back was scraping against the trunk behind him, and Kade’s mouth was on his, and he didn’t care. It had been weeks since they’d last kissed, since he’d last felt the slide of Kade’s tongue and the drag of his lips, and maybe that was why he’d been able to convince himself he could leave this behind.

  Kade, who saw all his flaws and fears and liked him anyway. Kade, who made Sev feel alive in a way he never had in all those years alone on the street. Alone, alone… always alone. He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

  But he wasn’t. Kade was here, warm body and strong hands, and Sev knew he could never, ever give this up.

  Some people are meant for power, for greatness.

  - CHAPTER 39 - VERONYKA

  VERONYKA WANDERED AIMLESSLY THROUGH the trees.

  She couldn’t keep sitting there, doing nothing. Not when she was capable of doing something. She couldn’t rectify the past, couldn’t fix the wounds already inflicted… but she could stop more from happening. The problem was, not all scars came from battlefields.