Wings of Shadow

by Nicki Pau Preto

  Had his father truly given his blessing? He looked at Veronyka, who, despite her tense posture and troubled eyes, smiled at him.

  “Thank you, Beryk,” he said at last. “I welcome any insight you have to offer—and that goes for everyone at the table. I’ll need all your help if we’re to make it through this. Now, tell me about the empire.”

  “They have agreed to meet with us,” Fallon said, sliding his chair forward as he stared down at the map. “But their supplementary forces remain in place across the border. One false move, and they will send their full power against us.”

  “Should we be focused on them with the bloody Black Horde on the loose?” Alexiya asked.

  “I don’t think we can afford to ignore them,” Tristan said. “If we don’t stop them, they’ll haul in any known animages for questioning, not to mention those they discover that are unregistered—whether they live outside the empire’s control or not. They won’t miss the opportunity to swell their coffers with taxation on anybody who breathes near an animal, never mind communicates with one.”

  “We sent out messengers to alert the villages of the coming danger,” Fallon said. “If the soldiers march, they’ll light the beacons. At least the people will be prepared.”

  “My primary concern is this meeting,” Beryk said. “Without Avalkyra to use as a good-faith bargaining chip, what can we truly offer them?”

  “Is there any hope of making a second attempt?” asked Darius, directing this question at Veronyka.

  She shook her head. “We won’t be able to get that close to her again. Next time we see her, she’ll be swarmed by strixes.”

  “Which will be when, exactly?” asked Fallon.

  “Sometime tomorrow evening.”

  “Then we’re doomed,” Darius said hollowly. “If their numbers are greater than they were when they attacked the Eyrie, then we don’t stand a chance. We’re hemmed in on two sides.”

  “Not necessarily,” Tristan said. “Surely the empire is expecting us to surrender—that’s what this is all about. They want to intimidate us. Think about it.… They’re mustering the entire army but are marching with only a fraction. They’re impatient and not actually anticipating a fight, so let’s give them what they expect and meet to discuss terms. Then we’ll convince them of the true threat and form an alliance instead.”

  Everyone gaped at him.

  “Why bother convincing them, when we have the heir to the throne on our side?” Fallon asked. “She could order them to fight for us, could she not?”

  “It isn’t that simple,” Tristan said, glancing at Veronyka. “She has no proof of her identity—at least, nothing the council will accept. Even if she did, they’d need to authenticate it, have meetings and contracts drawn up. It won’t help us tomorrow.”

  Beryk sighed heavily. “I’m still not sure how we can possibly persuade them that a resurrected queen and an army out of myth is their true enemy, and not the enemy standing directly in front of them.” He scrubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps it is better to avoid a direct confrontation and keep out of sight. Old habits die hard.”

  “All we need to do is delay them,” said Veronyka. “The empire will see the truth soon enough. She’s coming for us, for them… for everyone. They’d be fools not to ally with us. We’re their best chance at survival.”

  With the clock ticking down, they dispersed to get some sleep and prepare for what the next day would bring.

  Tristan was completely exhausted, but even still, he knew Veronyka was worse. She had expended mental and emotional energy today that he couldn’t fathom, and when she inadvertently leaned into him in the hallway, it was second nature to put his arm around her and at least physically help carry the load.

  His father had a room to himself near the top of the tower, and so Tristan began to lead them there, trying not to think too hard about the fact that it wasn’t actually his father’s room but the commander’s room. Veronyka halted at the base of the stairs.

  “I… Can we go outside?” she asked, her gaze distant. Tristan knew, somehow, that she wanted to see Xephyra. He nodded, redirecting them down the opposite end of the hallway.

  They rounded a corner, and Latham stood before them. His face was flushed, as if he’d been running, and he came to a halt at the sight of them.

  “Latham. How’s Anders?” Tristan asked.

  “He won’t be able to fly tomorrow,” Latham said roughly, and Tristan’s hackles rose. He knew Latham and Anders were close—and that Anders had been badly hurt during their failed mission today—but if Latham dared to attack or blame Veronyka for that… They had made up recently, and Tristan was tired, but not too tired to put his fist into Latham’s jaw if need be. Then he could have a bed next to Anders, and Tristan and Veronyka could get some much-needed sleep.

  “He could have been killed,” Latham said. His tone was still ragged, but though Tristan was expecting him to shout at Veronyka, she didn’t look at all wary of him. In fact, her face was soft with the kind of tenderness she usually reserved for animals—and for him.

  “But he wasn’t,” she said gently.

  “He could have been. He told me it was okay. He told me to go look for my brother, and—”

  “You found him,” Veronyka said, still using that quiet, delicate tone. “You saved Loran.”

  “No, you saved Loran,” Latham said. He was close to shouting, but it was clear now that his anger was directed at himself. “You saved me, too. You had a clear shot at her, but instead…” His voice hitched, and his face crumpled.

  “I don’t regret it,” Veronyka said at once. “I need you. Both of you. We’ll find another way.”

  “I thought—when they had the knife to his throat…” He swallowed, and Tristan could tell he wanted to turn aside, to hide his emotion, but he refused to look away from Veronyka. Tristan hadn’t yet heard the details from the attack earlier, but he was suddenly very eager to get the full story. “And then you told us to run. Not with words, I don’t think, but…” Latham shook his head. “I heard your voice—felt your magic—before I understood the warning. Before I was safe, I knew I was safe.” He released a huff of laughter. “I’m not making sense.”

  “You are,” Tristan said. He’d had the same experience in Rolan’s dungeons, when Veronyka used her magic to find him.

  “I guess I just—I wanted to say—” Latham moved haltingly, then took Veronyka’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  He released her and turned back toward the infirmary, leaving Tristan and Veronyka to continue down the hall, alone once more.

  Outside, they walked through the crisp, starry night, the moon fat and silver and veiled by wisps of clouds, giving the world an icy tint.

  They found Xephyra and Rex atop the stables, sleeping in a heap of feathers so intertwined it was impossible to tell one from the other. There were proper roosts in the tower, but maybe Veronyka had called the phoenixes down before they arrived. Or maybe Xephyra had sensed that Veronyka needed something, needed her, and so had come down to wait herself.

  The sight of her and Rex together always warmed something inside Tristan. It filled him with a sense of rightness and felt in many ways like the physical representation of his bond to Veronyka—the proof of it.

  The closeness of his bondmate along with the soft, sleepy presence of the horses and other animals in the stables—even stubborn, taciturn Wind—eased the tension that had been tightening Tristan’s shoulders. One look at Veronyka and he understood that this had been on purpose. She felt it too.

  Xephyra fluttered down to them, and Veronyka and Tristan clambered onto her saddleless back. They hadn’t ridden together like this since the empire attacked the Eyrie. It was a brief flight up to the roof—barely a blink and they were there—but Tristan savored it, running a hand softly along Xephyra’s flank, Veronyka riding in front of him as they leaned forward and held on tight.

  The roof sloped down toward the ground, and so it was a natur
al thing to first sit and then lean back, lying flat as they stared up at the sky. Rex and Xephyra settled on either side of them, their wings loose at their sides, creating a kind of barrier between them and the buffeting gusts of wind.

  Despite the bubble of warmth, Veronyka shivered. Tristan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close, so her head rested in the crook between his shoulder and chest. She sighed against him.

  Tristan glanced at her, then waited.

  When she eventually spoke, the words were tentative. I need to ask something of you.…

  “It’s yours,” he said at once. “Whatever you need, it’s yours.”

  She craned her neck to look up at him, her large eyes black in the darkness. “Ignix wants to make us apex,” she explained, gaze flicking to Xephyra. “So we’re strong enough to oppose her.”

  Tristan nodded. “That makes sense. You’re the best of us.”

  Veronyka turned her face into his chest, hiding it from view, though he caught a glimpse of her shy smile. “You’re embarrassing me,” she mumbled into his tunic.

  He laughed. “Good.”

  “But it’s not just us. It’s you, too. Having a human bond—a benex, it’s called—makes the apex pair stronger.”

  “How?”

  “It gives us heartfire. I saw Ignix use it, once. It’s like breathing fire, but its more potent than even regular phoenix flame.”

  Tristan understood her hesitation. Ignix wanted Veronyka to mow down their opponents. Even if they were strixes, he knew that would not be easy for her. The fact that it was Val riding one of them made it all the more complicated. And what if the empire decided they’d rather fight than ally? It had the potential to be a bloodbath.

  “Callysta was Nefyra’s benex,” she added quietly. Tristan rather liked the idea of joining such famous ranks of warriors, and Callysta and Nefyra had always been his favorites.

  He nudged her until she looked up at him again. “I know you’ll do the right thing, whatever it is. So if and when you need something from me, from us”—he looked up at Rex, who nodded in agreement—“you take it, okay?”

  Her eyes shone, reflecting the starlight. He hoped she felt his faith in her. To be tied to Val made Veronyka wary and on edge, but being tied to Veronyka made Tristan feel invincible.

  “Okay,” she said, nodding her pointy chin into his chest before settling back down again.

  “Okay,” he repeated, holding her tightly.

  Even with their close proximity and their phoenix barricade, the temperature was dropping, and she began to shiver again.

  With fingers stiff from cold, Tristan unlaced his padded vest, turning on his side and inviting her into the warmth held between the leather and his cotton tunic. The frigid air crawled in with her as she shifted closer, and his abdomen clenched as her icy hands slipped past another layer, up his shirt to the bare skin underneath. He wanted to cry out in protest, but the way she breathed and pressed herself against him, tucked under his chin, quickly distracted him from his discomfort. He wrapped his arms around her back, enclosing her in the open folds of his coat and drawing her close, while Rex and Xephyra edged nearer, blocking out the wind and the stars and everything except for them.

  The war that, it turns out, we did not win at all.

  - CHAPTER 49 - SEV

  THINGS WERE TENSE AT Haven for the entirety of the day and half of the night, which most people did not sleep through. Doriyan napped for a few hours but was gone again well before the sun rose.

  Sev and Kade remained by the cook fire—which burned bright all night—talking little and jumping at every rustle and creak from above as they awaited a messenger pigeon from Veronyka.

  He tried not to think about what the letter might say when it arrived. He tried not to think at all.

  It was early morning when a shout echoed from the direction of Agneta’s cottage.

  It was Agneta herself, and she rushed through the pathway to Haven, brandishing a letter for her son, who had been sitting in stoic silence across the fire. He leapt to his feet and snatched it from her grip.

  Sev stood too, as did Kade and many others. Everyone held their breath, waiting, as Theryn’s eyes roved the paper.

  “Everyone is alive… but they have failed. Avalkyra’s strix army has grown in size—estimated at more than a hundred—and that is not including the villagers and raiders who now support her. The empire, too, intends to march tomorrow. Or rather, today. They will be in Pyra by nightfall.”

  “So it’s war, then,” said Jonny softly.

  “They are so few…,” murmured Rosalind. “The Phoenix Riders. They don’t stand a chance.”

  “She has asked us to fight—Veronyka,” Theryn continued, eyes still on the letter. He cleared his throat and read aloud. “She says: ‘Not for me or for the throne, but for each other. Only together can we make it through.’ ”

  He looked around at the faces of each and every person who’d gathered—but his gaze lingered on the Phoenix Riders, young and old.

  “I will go,” Theryn said, nodding fervently. “I must. I won’t force any of you to follow me, but this is something I have to do. Something I should have done a long time ago.”

  “We’re not much help,” Jonny said in his easy way, rubbing a hand across his chin—though his eyes gleamed.

  “Barely a dozen,” said Rosalind, turning on the spot to survey the crowd. “And that’s if all of us come.”

  “I will go alone if I must,” Theryn said.

  “That won’t do at all,” said Jonny, shaking his head. “I’m with you, old friend. Where you go, I go.”

  “Me too,” said Rosalind.

  “And me,” added Ivan. Others came forward, nodding and giving their assent.

  “We could use more, though,” Jonny said thoughtfully, staring around at their small group. “Any more, really.”

  Theryn’s eyes narrowed. “What are you thinking?”

  Jonny shrugged. “We have until nightfall? I suggest we send Riders across Arboria, north and south. Surely we could scrounge up a few more.”

  Theryn nodded. “You head east. Ros—north and south.”

  “North and south?” Jonny repeated.

  “She’s twice as fast as you,” Theryn replied. Rosalind smiled smugly. “Besides, we’ve got plenty to do here. We’ll need weapons, saddles.… By the time we’re ready, we’ll probably be flying directly into a fight.” He glanced toward his mother’s house, where the commander and his phoenix were. “Which means I’ll need a ride.”

  Then he marched off, Veronyka’s letter still clutched tightly in his hand.

  The tense, uneasy bubble that had hung over Haven since the previous day popped, and suddenly the place was filled with noise and manic energy. Packing and preparing, prying open dusty crates of weapons and supplies and cleaning off old saddles and armor.

  Even their relatively small numbers would swell the Phoenix Rider ranks and could make all the difference in the coming fight. They would lend their support and stand together.

  Well, those who could fly, anyway.

  Sev felt rooted to the spot, staring silently as the arrangements were under way, as those who could help, did.

  And those who couldn’t?

  He had been waiting for this moment for days—weeks, even—and still he was not prepared. Kade would leave with the rest of the Haven Riders, mounted astride their fiery steeds, to join Veronyka and Tristan and all the others as they fought for themselves and each other.

  They were heading into a battle, and none of them could afford to carry an extra rider, especially a dropout empire soldier like him. Sev guessed that Theryn would ride the commander’s phoenix in his place, but there were no spare transports for Sev.

  He would get left behind.

  For years he’d been avoiding the fight, avoiding caring, and now that he’d finally committed and found something and someone—several someones—he wanted to fight for, he couldn’t.

  The irony
was not lost on him.

  His fears of being useless, of having nothing to offer, reared up again.

  Sev slipped away in the commotion, but Kade eventually found him feeding the chickens. He needed to do something with his hands and to get away from the anticipatory excitement that had filled everyone around him.

  The chickens squawked and fluttered at his feet—precious, idiot birds. Sev felt a perhaps unflattering kinship with them.

  “They’re planning to leave late afternoon,” Kade told him. “They want to wait as long as possible for any reinforcements they might muster. Too bad Doriyan’s already gone, or he might have carried word to Prosperity.”

  “They?” Sev repeated. “What about you?”

  “I’m not going,” Kade said simply.

  “What?”

  He clarified. “I’m not going… unless you come with me.”

  “I’ll be nothing but deadweight. Jinx would fly slower with a second person, and if anything happens, you’ll have to protect me—I can’t let you take that risk.”

  “We promised we’d be together at the end of this, and that’s looking like it might be sooner rather than later. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  “Kade, I…” Sev swallowed around the bubble in his throat. “I can’t let you turn your back on them. They’re your friends, your equals—they’re important to you.”

  “You are important to me,” Kade said stubbornly. “And in what way are we not equals?”

  Sev gave him an exasperated look. “In every way imaginable—but let’s start with the fact that you’re a Phoenix Rider.”

  “I was only able to become a Phoenix Rider because you gave me your phoenix egg,” Kade said desperately. “It could have been you—should have been.”

  Sev shook his head. “I’m a terrible animage.… That was never in the cards for me.”

  “You’re only terrible—” Kade stopped abruptly, realizing he’d conceded at least partly to Sev’s argument. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve never used your magic, never even tried to learn or develop your ability. Inexperience does not equal ineptitude.”