I’m going to damn well try, he said, and Veronyka couldn’t help but smile.
As she refocused on the fighting around her, Veronyka’s bonds flickered and surged, with bursts of life and death on both sides. Whatever Nefyra and Ignix had done, they had not had to endure this.… Being bonded to Val and her horde meant that there was no peace for Veronyka, no joy or victory to be had in destroying their enemy.
But was there ever joy in war? Maybe for someone like Val, but bond magic or not, Veronyka could never find happiness in this. It was a dark duty, just as Ignix had said, but it had to be done.
Spotting a pair of strixes at the edge of the battlefield, Veronyka nudged Xephyra to pursue. Now that they’d managed to conjure it, she felt the heartfire smoldering behind her breastbone, ready and waiting to be called forward.
The strixes were heading toward a regiment of soldiers. Xephyra flew fast and hard, gaining ground and bringing the strixes within range. Despite her fierce flight and expert maneuvering, Veronyka sensed Xephyra’s uneasiness as well. They were one, after all, and the pain and suffering Veronyka felt? Xephyra felt it too.
They breathed together, stoking the heartfire that was building inside both their chests. Xephyra opened her beak, ready for release—and at the last moment, Veronyka nudged her to shoot the flames in front of the strixes, not directly at them. The spout of heartfire forced them to squawk and veer off course, scaring them away from the soldiers rather than killing them.
The soldiers looked around in confusion—their crossbows raised, prepared for an attack that did not come.
Veronyka cursed. Whose side was she on, if all she sought to do was keep everyone alive?
But she couldn’t shake the terrible fear that she would lose something, some indefinable part of herself, if she gave in to this ability. If she gave in to reckless, unstoppable destruction. But what other choice did she have?
Laughter filled her mind. Ah, xe Nyka, Val said, terrible, patronizing fondness in her tone. I knew you did not have it in you. You are not a fighter, not truly. Not a winner. You must be willing to do whatever it takes to succeed, and you are not.
Veronyka refused to respond, but it seemed Val didn’t need her to. She was cleaving through Veronyka’s forces with ease, like an ax through wood. She decimated a regiment of cavalry with obvious relish, tearing through their ranks one moment before homing in on the war machines in the next. She lost half the strixes charging behind her to arrows and artillery, but continued to push and push until Onyx collided with the arm of a catapult and knocked the payload flying. The wood splintered and crumbled underneath her talons, while the remaining members of Val’s charge set upon the soldiers who were working the weapon, causing them to flee in terror or drop by the dozens at Val’s feet.
Veronyka was disgusted—at Val and at herself.
Xephyra wheeled around and darted into the throng. She was burning hotter than Veronyka had ever felt before, heat waves rippling and blue-white fire blooming across her feathers. But rather than scare their enemy off, the threat of heartfire seemed only to spurn the strixes on, the creatures driven wild by that spark of life they so desperately coveted. They bit and snapped at the trailing flames, hungry, devouring—mad with need and want that was sickening, that emanated from them like the very shadows that draped across their feathers. Was this their overwhelming desire bleeding from them, or Val’s?
Veronyka twisted and loosed a volley of arrows to gain them some space. She hit one of the strix’s wings, sending it veering off course, but the others dodged and weaved and continued their pursuit.
Xephyra tossed her head in anger and decided she’d had enough. With her wings thrown wide, she flipped around in midair, opening her beak to let loose a torrent of roaring flames. The burst of heartfire enveloped the remaining strixes, their screeches ringing in Veronyka’s mind—not keening death wails, but cries of painful joy. Of release.
Veronyka stared, shock crashing through her in waves as she watched the shadowbirds fall back down to earth, their inky feathers flashing red and gold before burning up, into ash.
But not the ashes of destruction.
The ashes of rebirth.
But they did not need me. Not truly. They have saved themselves.
- CHAPTER 60 - SEV
SEV OPENED HIS EYES.
Everything was dark—but not the darkness of death or even sleep. It was smoky, the air thick and clogging his throat. His lungs hitched, and a ragged cough tore through his throat, but then the clouds of smoke billowed and dispersed as Jinx moved her wings. The room was still hazy, but Sev could see movement—the phoenixes scrambling through the wreckage of the melted metal grate and out into the arena where the others stood.
His ears were ringing, and as he blinked his stinging eyes, his gaze settled on Kade.
He had his arms wrapped around Sev, using his body as protection—his back as a barricade, his shoulders as a shield—and behind him was Jinx, adding her protections to his. If Kade was armor, Jinx was a fortress.
Just as Sev had fought for them, so too had they fought for him. They’d all chosen each other.
Kade was staring at him with unguarded shock, with raw, desperate wonder. He pulled back just enough to really look at Sev, before crushing him against his chest. Kade’s whole body trembled, and he pressed his face against Sev’s temple, breathing deeply—Sev felt wetness, either sweat or tears, and the warm press of Kade’s mouth.
“I’m okay,” Sev managed, and Kade let out a shuddering laugh that transformed into a sob halfway and gripped him tighter. “Careful,” Sev murmured, looking down, and Kade followed his gaze to the tiny phoenix pressed against his chest. His naked chest. His pocket was gone, his shirt was gone, burned to little more than scraps of singed fabric, and somehow Sev was holding the tiny bird with both hands.
The phoenix only chirruped and blinked up at them both, expression mild and curious and not the least bit concerned.
“Axura above,” Kade whispered, but Sev kept thinking about Teyke and his cat. About luck and timing and every odd twist and turn his life had taken to lead him here.
Distant coughs and groans echoed from somewhere behind them, and Sev realized the blaze that had somehow failed to kill him had managed to destroy the barricade Yara had built, and whatever damage had happened to the soldiers in the explosion, they were now stirring.
Gripping Sev’s shoulders protectively, Kade steered him toward the opposite end of the room, where the remains of the metal bars still glowed hot and red like coals in a fire. Sev glanced over his shoulder, afraid to look but needing to know, and spotted Yara’s prone form amid the wreckage, crossbow bolts in her chest.
His grip on the phoenix twitched and tightened, but the creature only nuzzled against him. Sev stroked the soft down, the knot of anger and guilt that tried to take root loosening. Sev had dragged her into this.… Her death was his fault.
But it wouldn’t be in vain.
He stumbled over the melted wreckage of metal bars, emerging into a dark, cavernous space. There was sand underfoot and stone benches rising up into darkness all around. The roof above, where the arena would have opened to the sky, had been boarded up, the tiniest cracks of moonlight filtering in from above.
When he drew his attention back down, it was to realize that everyone was staring at him—human and phoenix alike. They were gaping, their own joyful reunions put on hold to gawk at him.
While he and Kade were both equally sweaty and smeared with soot, Kade had been wearing his fireproof Rider leathers, so his clothes remained mostly intact save for the smoking edges of his undertunic.
Sev, on the other hand, was more or less naked.
He just stared back at them, the tiny phoenix pressed to his chest, until Jinx moved in front of him, her wings raised to protect his modesty. She was fairly glowering at the onlookers—the phoenixes were the first to lower their heads and turn their attention aside—but it was nothing to the expression on Kade’s face.
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The disapproving, jealous tinge to his features almost made Sev want to laugh. They weren’t ogling Sev’s rather unimpressive physique—of that he was quite sure—but they were stunned nonetheless to find him alive, whole and unharmed. The heat had been intense enough to turn his clothing to ashes, to say nothing of what it had done to the metal bars, and yet, there wasn’t a burn or a welt on him.
Sev was stunned too.
Kade turned his back on the others to reach inside Jinx’s saddlebags, which were also treated with fireproof sap, though they were wilted, their metal fastenings melted together. As he struggled to find what he was looking for, Clara cleared her throat and tossed him a rolled-up blanket. Kade nodded his thanks and draped the fabric over Sev’s shoulders.
Jinx lowered her wings, and Sev smiled at her. He realized that trying to resist her had been an impossible feat, when she was so clearly an extension of Kade—a piece of his heart. And a piece of Sev’s, too.
The noise from beyond the phoenix cells had faded away, and Sev wondered if the soldiers there had decided to retreat—or if they were simply circling around or going for reinforcements.
The others were apparently thinking the same thing, remembering they were in the middle of an escape and hastily turning away to saddle their mounts and adjust their borrowed armor. Despite the tension, their touches were lingering, their words soft as they fussed and hugged their bondmates. Tears flowed freely, but they were tears of happiness.
Kade looked at Sev, his expression shifting from protective anger to wonder and confusion. He stared, uncomprehending, and then his attention slid to his bondmate.
“Jinx…?” he said uncertainly. Sev tilted his head. Was that possible? Could a phoenix extend their protection like that? Did something of Kade’s feelings for Sev get transferred to Jinx and then some of her bond to Sev?
But then the creature in his hands squirmed, trying to get comfortable—or perhaps draw his attention—and he wasn’t so sure.
Theo stepped forward then, offering to take the phoenix so Sev could get dressed in the clothes the others cobbled together for him, but Sev clutched the hatchling tighter. He fought against a mad urge to yell, to snarl, and shook his head.
Over my dead body. “No,” he said, fighting down the irrational anger. “No. He… he stays with me.” Always. Forever.
Suddenly Sev knew, and by the way Kade’s eyes narrowed—then widened—it seemed he knew too.
Bondmate.
There had been a moment in the cellblock, an instant of eye contact between them that had reverberated through Sev’s heart—deeper, even, to his core—and it had happened after he had chosen to die. After Sev had finally accepted himself as worthy. That love, that sacrifice… Had the phoenix felt and connected to it?
This tiny creature, this newly made thing… he belonged to Sev, and Sev belonged to him. They had saved each other. They had chosen each other. Sev had saved him from his cage, and this phoenix had saved him from the fire.
It was lucky Sev had seen him, small and cowering in his darkened cell.
Kade inched closer to the pair of them, his movements slow—perhaps sensing Sev’s panic at the prospect of being separated. Instead, Kade reached out tentatively, gently, to stroke a thumb down the phoenix’s tiny spine. A corresponding shiver of pleasure slid down Sev’s back.
The slightly hysterical dread pressing against his chest receded, and Sev looked up into Kade’s warm amber eyes. And over his shoulder was Jinx, her gaze bright and curious, but wary, too. Hesitant.
“You,” Sev swallowed, knowing that time was ticking on, that they had to get moving. He tried again. “You can hold him, if…”
The gratification, the fierce pride in Kade’s expression made Sev’s throat tight, but he only nodded and took the phoenix from Sev’s hands so Sev could stumble into the proffered clothing.
Kade bent his face low, continuing to pet the phoenix with a careful touch, while Jinx cocked her head this way and that, making soft chirruping sounds. Sev had to stop to stare at them, at this small slice of life he’d never dared to dream for himself. That he’d never thought possible.
Not for him.
Emotion tightened his throat again, and his eyes prickled. Kade seemed to sense something was wrong, and stepped closer, holding Sev’s phoenix—Sev’s bondmate—out to him.
Sev shook his head, blinking away the tears, and lurched into Kade’s arms instead. His phoenix was pressed between them again, and it felt perfectly right—or almost perfect, until Jinx enveloped them in her warm wings once more.
Now it was perfect.
Sev was overwhelmed. He took several steadying breaths, his forehead pressed against Kade’s chest, and he felt Kade speak before he heard the words.
“What will you call him?” he asked.
Sev considered. “I think I’ll name him after Teyke’s cat, Felix.”
Kade drew back, smiling down at him. “Because he’s lucky?”
Sev shook his head. “No, because I am.”
* * *
It was full dark by the time they found a way out of the arena, and Sev braced himself for the eventuality that leaving would be more complicated than getting in, but he was wrong. They didn’t have to fight their way free or sneak down the quiet evening streets—even the soldiers that had been pursuing them from behind seemed to have disappeared or else been caught up in what was happening aboveground.
The Aura Nova streets weren’t quiet at all. Instead, they were wild with panic, soldiers running to and fro, while civilians huddled in groups, whispering, or stared concernedly from doorways and open windows.
“What is it?” asked Sev, lurching out of the alley in which they’d been hiding and flagging down a civilian. “What’s happened?”
“They say the war’s happening, right on the banks of the Aurys! You can see it from the watchtowers. My brother’s city watch—he saw it with his own eyes.”
Sev craned his neck, glad they didn’t need a watchtower to get a better look.
“They say it’s not just Phoenix Riders,” the man continued, gripping Sev’s arm. “There are monsters coming outta the sky! Black-winged monsters! The gods are punishing us,” he finished, his last words carrying through the streets. “The gods are punishing us all!”
Sev pulled his arm free. “You should get inside,” he said. “Somewhere safe.”
“The temple!” the man cried, eyes bright.
“Good idea,” Sev muttered, mostly to himself. They weren’t far from the gods’ plaza, and the temple to Axura was the highest ground to be found that wasn’t a watchtower.
Sev climbed onto Jinx, and together their group flew to the temple roof, doing their best to stay clear of the torchlight. Theo risked flying a bit higher for a better look and reappeared grim-faced and white-knuckled.
“That man was right—religious ravings aside. There’s fighting happening on both sides of the river. Strixes, Phoenix Riders, and soldiers—but it looks like the Riders are fighting with the empire. There are other forces on the ground—they look like raiders, without proper uniforms—and they’ve destroyed the bridge.”
Riders fighting with empire soldiers. That was an interesting development. “Nothing makes fast friends like a common enemy,” Sev said.
“Strixes,” muttered Clara, voice faint. “I did not think the world could get darker than it already was.”
“Why destroy the bridge?” asked Dane. “If their enemy is winged…”
“To stop reinforcements,” Sev said, trying to picture the battlefield in his mind. “There are hundreds of soldiers trapped on this side of the river. The strixes likely attacked from the north and had these raiders cut them off in the south. It traps the soldiers that are already inside Pyra, along with the Phoenix Riders, who won’t abandon them there to die.”
“They won’t?” asked Joshua skeptically.
“Veronyka won’t,” Sev said firmly, glad he’d already laid the foundation for who she was and what she s
tood for.
“She is not Avalkyra,” added Kade.
“What do we do?” asked Dane, his voice slightly panicked. “There are soldiers and city watch everywhere. Whatever’s happening by the river, I doubt all of the empire will see us as friends.”
But even as he spoke, civilians from the street below—currently piling into the temple of Axura to pray—spotted them, pointing and crying out.
Sev tensed at first, fearing they were about to be targeted by city watch, but then he actually heard what the crowds were saying. Apparently, word of the strixes had spread like wildfire through the city, and the people below weren’t shouting in fear or anger. They were begging for help, for protection, thanking the goddess for heeding their prayers.
Just like that, Phoenix Riders were no longer the empire’s enemies. Not with that dark threat from legend looming. Not with bells ringing and soldiers stomping and defenses being mounted.
Even with all those soldiers—and all those miles—between the border and Aura Nova, the people of the city knew that winged warriors could cross that distance in no time. That their high walls and ranks of soldiers would not keep them safe.
Only Phoenix Riders could do that.
Among the throngs below, Sev spotted lit candles and dusty old phoenix idols—clearly cherished relics that had been hidden for years. Waiting, it seemed, for the Phoenix Riders to return. Hoping.
And here they were, symbols of the goddess herself, perched atop her soaring temple. What else could they do but protect these people? Sev’s chest tightened, and he felt like a child again, watching his parents soar off bravely into battle. Certain, in his heart, that good would prevail.
They were no saviors—they were the most ragged group of Phoenix Riders Sev had yet seen—but they were something, and they could help.
“What do we do?” Sev repeated, voice strong with conviction. “I know what I want to do. I want to help—in any way I can. But I understand if you want to get on your phoenix and fly far away from here. You deserve freedom and to have your lives back with no strings attached. I also understand if you don’t know who you’re fighting for. Avalkyra did you wrong, just as General Rast did—but that doesn’t make Phoenix Riders evil, and it doesn’t make the empire evil either.”
Wings of Shadow Page 52
