But this wasn’t like the Grand Council meeting. Veronyka wasn’t afraid as she had been then. She wasn’t looking to be crowned, or for Rast and the others to bow to her. Instead, she was looking to sow doubt. She was also hoping to buy them some time.
As they spoke, Alexiya and the rest of their flock were drawing near. If the general wanted to play dirty, they could play dirty too. They certainly didn’t have the numbers to take on the entire five-hundred-strong force that stood before them—at least not without major casualties—but they might just be able to turn the tables and force the general into signing some papers of their own. If they could take him into custody, they should be able to gain control of the situation.
Besides, Veronyka was tired of hiding, tired of pretending she was anything other than who she truly was.
General Rast smiled mockingly. “If you intend to make some half-baked bid for the throne, I suggest you bring your false claim before the Grand Council. I’d be happy to escort you there—as a prisoner.”
Tristan took an angry step forward, and the shift and creak of crossbows followed him. “Don’t make idle threats, General. You won’t be taking any prisoners today. You have no authority here.”
The general opened his mouth to retort, but Veronyka held up her hand. His eyes bugged at the gesture, and he looked ready to erupt, but the others soon heard what Veronyka had.
Hoofbeats.
A crossbowman behind Veronyka called out, “One of the scouts has returned.”
“It’s about time,” the general muttered, waving for the scout to be let through. Clearly, the empire had sent riders ahead to ensure they weren’t marching into an ambush, and with the Phoenix Riders’ attention pulled in multiple directions, they hadn’t been watching the road as closely as they used to.
The rider looked weary and travel-worn, the horse’s head drooping and the rider’s clothes dusty and ragged, but the saddle bore the empire military’s crest. The late-afternoon sun was warm against Veronyka’s skin, yet the rider was wrapped head to toe, from thick leather boots and gloves to a heavy head scarf obscuring their face.
No.
“Well?” the general barked, staring expectantly at the rider, who had moved through the Phoenix Rider ranks and had come to a halt several feet in front of the tent. “You’re a full day late. What news?”
It was no surprise at all to Veronyka when Avalkyra Ashfire pulled down her scarf and lowered her hood.
Red hair. Scarred face. And a strix-feather crown.
The older members of their party gasped, while the younger looked around in confusion. Avalkyra was the same, but different—thirty-five years of age and yet barely a day over seventeen. Murmurs broke out. Whispers. And fear—the place was suddenly ripe with it.
Val had always loved to make an entrance.
How had Veronyka missed her approach? Now that Val was standing before her, it was easy to sense her through their bond. Maybe Veronyka had been too distracted by what was happening. Despite her confident entrance, Val looked like someone who’d been poisoned the day before. Onyx must have flown her south while she was still unconscious… perhaps on Sidra’s orders. And where was Sidra? Veronyka hadn’t seen her in Rushlea, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t somewhere nearby.
Val flashed her teeth in a predatory grin before calmly dismounting. She moved aside her ragged robe as if it were the finest silks and strode forward.
“Who are you?” General Rast demanded. He gestured to the soldiers on either side of them, and they all angled their weapons toward Val.
“This is your last chance,” Val said, speaking directly to Veronyka. She ignored the general entirely.
Veronyka’s brain was still playing catch-up. Val had obviously come here masquerading as a scout so that she could get close enough to speak. If she’d flown in on her strix, she’d have been shot down before she got within hailing distance.
But now she stood open and undefended in a crowd of enemies, without so much as a whisper of concern in her mind or on her face.
Morra had been right; Val had not given up and was intent on forcing her into the position of benex, no matter the risk.
“Bow to me, and I’ll spare them.” She gestured to Tristan and the other Phoenix Riders, who were still under crossbow guard. One pulled trigger, and Veronyka would lose someone she cared about. Val spoke slowly, clearly, so everyone could hear. “I’ll do your dirty work and take care of the soldiers. You won’t have to beg them for mercy or watch your people die. You won’t have to get blood on your hands.”
“Now, listen here,” the general interjected angrily. He had been watching them with wide, startled eyes but had evidently had enough. Val’s gaze flicked in his direction, annoyed. “I don’t know who you are, but I have you surrounded and outnumbered.”
Despite his words to the contrary, Rast was old enough to have seen Avalkyra Ashfire during the Blood War. He could deny it all he wanted, but he knew exactly who he was looking at.
Still, Val saw fit to help him along. “I am Avalkyra Ashfire, the Feather-Crowned Queen and Apex Master of the Black Horde.”
She flung an arm to the north, where, far off in the distance, a haze of black shadows materialized. They were almost lost in the darkening sky, a cloud of winged terrors, their distant shrieks just barely distinguishable from the rustling leaves of the nearby trees.
“This is preposterous!” the general spluttered. He waved at his archers. “What are you waiting for? Shoot her!”
They lifted their weapons, wood creaking in their tightened grips, bowstrings taut—all but one. The last soldier on the right turned her crossbow in the opposite direction and pointed it at the general instead.
Veronyka looked closely for the first time and recognized with a jolt Sidra’s familiar hardened face and cropped hair.
The other archers kept their weapons fixed on Val, but the general blanched. He was utterly exposed, with no hope of cover. All Sidra needed to do was shift her finger a fraction of an inch, and he was done for.
“Don’t shoot!” he shouted angrily, though Veronyka didn’t know if he was pleading with Val and Sidra or speaking to his own soldiers. Regardless, nobody moved.
“Drop the weapons,” Val said idly, picking a piece of lint from her cloak.
“Do it,” the general barked, and two dozen crossbows fell into the dirt. Veronyka’s impression of him—already low to begin with—plummeted. He was putting his own life above his duty and his purpose here. His soldiers could easily take out Val and Sidra, as well as all the Phoenix Riders here, and the only cost would be his own life. He might even survive if Sidra didn’t land a kill shot. Doubtful, but he didn’t know her pedigree.
Despite her curled lip, Veronyka was glad for his cowardice. It meant she and her fellow Riders still had a chance of making it out of this situation alive.
“What do you want?” he asked as the ring of soldiers held up their hands.
Val smiled. “I want nothing from you, General. You are here to bear witness, to watch in fear and failure as I tear you and your pitiful army apart.”
Sidra’s crossbow creaked ominously, and the general’s entire body flinched—but no arrow loosed. His gaze darted from Sidra to Val, then up to the Black Horde as it spread like an ink stain across the sky, drawing ever nearer.
“Veronyka,” Val said, taking a casual step forward, though her voice was urgent. “Lower your head, bend your knee, and save your people.”
They stood before each other, Ashfire to Ashfire, with empire soldiers and Phoenix Riders on both sides.
That was where Val got it wrong—where she had always gotten it wrong.
Her people weren’t just the Phoenix Riders. She was heir to the throne, a queen by blood and birthright—but also by choice. She wanted that position now, so she could use it for the greater good. She didn’t want to save a select few. She wanted to save everyone—animages and non-mages, Riders and soldiers. All were her people.
“No.”<
br />
Val’s expression flickered. “Careful, xe Nyka. I will not ask again.”
“Good,” Veronyka said, her voice carrying in the calm before the storm. “I will never bow before you. Never. Not with a knife at my throat or a boot on my neck. Not with a thousand strixes could you make me serve you and your war. I won’t fight for you or for a crown. If I fight for anything, I fight for peace.”
Val’s mouth opened, ready with another retort, when Ignix moved into her line of sight. She’d taken only a single step, but Val had been too preoccupied with Veronyka and the general to pay attention to the Phoenix Riders around her. And, of course, Ignix didn’t usually have a Rider at all.
“You,” Val said, her face contorted in a mask of twisted fury. Her gaze darted between Ignix and Veronyka, her eyes slightly wild. “I see you’ve chosen my sister, just like everyone else.” She shrugged, determinedly nonchalant. “No matter. I defeated you once, and I will defeat you again. You’re a pathetic excuse for an apex. I don’t fear you.”
No, you do not fear me, Ignix said calmly. But you fear her. She inclined her head toward Veronyka. And I will not be apex for long.
Val sneered, her attention shifting to Veronyka once more. “If it’s a fight you want, you’ll get it.”
It was Veronyka’s turn to smile, though it was a sad, weary thing. “I’ve never wanted a fight, Val.… That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along.”
Then you will lose.
Val moved to retake her horse, her movements jerky. Sidra, meanwhile, kept her crossbow fixed on the general, even as she took several steps toward the forest. The distance was no match for the weapon, so everyone remained frozen.
Val rode off through the ranks of unarmed soldiers without a backward glance. As soon as her master was out of sight, Sidra turned and ran into the cover of the trees. The soldiers scrabbled for their dropped weapons, loosing a few bolts into their trunks, but it was too late.
All they could do was stand and stare at the coming darkness.
We fought because we were different—it seemed simple then.
- CHAPTER 52 - SEV
IN ORDER TO GET to Aura Nova undetected, Sev, Kade, and Theo needed to hire a boat. They decided their best chance was to head to the busy docks on the eastern shore of the Palm, the wide bay that separated Arboria North from Aura Nova.
Sev rode with Kade on Jinx, and Theo convinced Jonny to give her a ride. Jonny didn’t pry into what they were doing, but apparently Theo asking for a favor was extraordinary enough that the man agreed without question. He was flying east anyway, attempting to recruit any Riders-in-hiding to their cause.
As Sev rode in Jinx’s saddle, he thought about what Kade had said… that Jinx didn’t hate him at all, that it was Sev who hated Jinx. Guilt gnawed at him. Despite his lack of skill, he was still an animage, and she must have heard or sensed his feelings. Sev thought that if he wanted to, he could reach out to her—that she would open her mind for him as she had done before, when they’d first met. That trust was overwhelming, and it was a shock to realize that he wanted to do it, but fear tightened his gut and made him a coward.
She’s just as enamored of you as I am.
Sev thought of all the times he’d seen her watching him, blinking those curious eyes. In that cave in the Spine, on their first flight together and when they’d camped in Stel… plus a dozen other times besides. Did she care for Sev because Kade cared for him? Surely that was it. Why else would a phoenix be interested in him?
He did his best to cast aside the self-deprecating thought and remember Kade’s words. You’ve always been you, and that is more than enough.
More than enough for Kade, anyway. The thought made Sev’s insides feel light as a feather, buoyed with hope. If he was more than enough for someone like Kade, could he be enough for a phoenix someday too?
When they arrived at the docks, Jinx balked at the storage crate Theo had found for her, poked with tiny air holes and small enough that she’d have to crouch, but it was necessary in order to bring her with them undetected. Sev thought they were asking for trouble—especially since the interior was packed with extremely flammable straw—but Theo assured them this was how they transferred live animals across the channel. Besides, it would be easier to convince city officials they were transporting a harmless animal like a calf or a goat than pretending what they hauled was some inanimate cargo. Sev knew she was right, that lies that stuck closer to the truth usually succeeded above those that pushed the boundaries too far.
Still, he found himself as anxious as Jinx as she scrambled inside the crate, eyes darting wildly and feathers standing on end.
Kade remained nearby, murmuring soothing words of encouragement and adjusting the straw bed beneath her. Sev distinctly heard the phrase “not that bad,” and when Jinx’s head swiveled in her bondmate’s direction, she let out a huff of air that caused bits of straw to fly up into Kade’s face.
Sev hastily turned his laugh into a cough, and Kade’s look of mild chagrin transformed into a smile when he saw Sev’s obvious amusement.
Once they had Jinx safely stowed away, it was easy enough to purchase a crossing on a barge that was setting out for the day. They were on the docks of the Narrows before the sun reached its peak in the sky, and Theo proved herself a well-practiced liar, arguing with the dock official in her bored, inflectionless voice and gesturing irritably at the cargo she had to get to her client in a hurry. Kade played the obedient bondservant—he’d even kept his tags and put them on again to complete the ruse—and Sev and Theo wore soldier uniforms. Sev had reclaimed his from Tristan, and Theo borrowed one from Theryn. They looked no different from the dozens of other servants being escorted about their duties by bored-looking household guards.
As Theo continued to argue, Sev asked why Kade still had the tags. He shrugged and ran a finger along them in a gesture very similar to the one Sev had seen Tristan use on that broken arrowhead.
Once cleared, they flagged down a runner and paid double to ensure their message made it to Yara as quickly as possible. Then they went to the dockside alehouse where Sev had told her to meet them and waited. Since bondservants weren’t generally given leisure time to drink and gamble, Kade stayed outside with Jinx’s crate.
Sev’s nerves had been buzzing ever since he set foot on the Aura Novan docks. He hadn’t been here since before he’d become a soldier—nearly a year. He had gone straight from the city watch station house to the enlistment office and from there to the training barracks. So much had changed since the last time he’d been here, and Sev was confronted with a whirlwind of emotions: Nostalgia for favorite haunts and familiarity at the sights and sounds of the city, but there was also an uneasy tension, a fear that he might wind up back here—alone and afraid, hiding what he was—even after everything he’d been through.
Despite his worries, Sev couldn’t deny a certain amount of anticipation as well. These were his streets; this was his battleground—the place he’d had to fight to survive a thousand times over.
So what was once more?
Theo ordered them both drinks so they’d blend in, but strained silence enveloped them as they stared out the grimy windows, waiting… and waiting. The sun moved across the sky, the patrons shuffled out and new ones took up their abandoned stools, and still, nothing. Theo ordered more drinks, and Sev slipped out to check on Kade and Jinx.
What if the letter never made it? What if it wound up in the wrong hands instead? It had been relatively vague, but what if, even now, soldiers were headed this way to capture and question them?
When Sev sidled back into the alehouse and found Theo speaking to an unfamiliar soldier, his stomach dropped—until the soldier turned, and Yara’s face peeked out from behind a thick hood and a high collar.
Relief swept through his body, and he hurried forward.
“Not here,” said Yara, as Sev opened his mouth to speak. She nodded toward a back exit, and they filed outside into the dingy alley that Ka
de had been hiding in.
Once the door swung shut behind them, Sev explained what he had in mind.
“Will you help us?”
“I’d not have come here if I weren’t going to help,” she said, her voice as flat as Theo’s.
“Can you get us into Lord Rolan’s town house?” she asked her.
“You won’t be a problem,” she said to Theo, “but him”—she nodded at Sev—“and him?” she added, indicating Kade. “They’re both runaways from the governor’s service.”
“But with Rolan dead,” Sev said reasonably, “what are the odds any of his city staff know about it?”
Yara tilted her head, considering. “The household has been in disarray since his death… and most of the soldiers he traveled with have already been reassigned. It’s just his usual staff in residence.”
Sev beamed. “They won’t even remember me. Most of my time in Aura Nova was spent in training. And Kade—”
“They will remember me,” Kade cut in. “I spent months here with Ilithya.”
Sev sighed. “I think we need a bigger crate.”
* * *
Luckily, regular shipments of Lord Rolan’s various possessions had been coming and going sporadically ever since the governor’s death, items from his offices inside the Nest arriving one day, only to be repackaged and shipped to his family’s ancestral home in Stel the next. He was no longer the governor of Ferro, and soon even the town house and its occupants would be emptied and redistributed or assigned a new master.
Most things had been arriving hastily packed and unmarked, and the steward was apparently in a right state, refusing to go through it all and instead having it wheeled into storage until further instructions were sent.
And so, when Yara returned that afternoon with a couple of empire soldiers and a large crate in tow, they were directed to the service entrance without a second glance.
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