Tiptoeing in that direction now, Sev smiled when the stooped figure of Heller became visible between the trees. Limbs tingling with anticipation, Sev paused to gather himself. He had only one shot at this, and if he was caught, he had no reason for being this far from camp. Reaching into his travel pack, he took a hasty swig from a bottle of liquor he’d stolen from Ott, reasoning that if all else failed, he could pretend to be drunk.
Clenching his jaw, Sev closed his eyes and cast his awareness wide, searching. . . .
Finally, he had it—a cluster of bats perched on a branch nearby. Perfect. While he sent the creatures right, distracting Heller, Sev would slip left.
Once he got away, no one would think to look for him until morning. By then Sev would have several hours’ head start. He’d continue south, into the Foothills, and ask around until he found his way to his parents’ old farm—or what was left of it.
It had been a beautiful place to live once. Sev’s family had been sheepherders, and to this day, when he closed his eyes at night, he saw rolling green fields and wide-open skies.
When the war broke out, the Pyraean border became the front lines, and animages had fled to the mountains in droves. People like Sev’s parents were recruited, given secondhand weapons and phoenix eggs, and expected to fight to keep the empire foot soldiers back.
They never complained, never lamented their fates. It was an honor to serve a Rider queen, they’d said, and Avalkyra Ashfire had the rightful claim to the throne. Her mother was queen at the time of Avalkyra’s birth, which made her the trueborn heir, while her sister was made legitimate after the fact.
Sev’s parents were proud to don their armor, and with every victorious battle, they braided pieces of obsidian into their hair. The sight of his mother and father flying out to meet empire soldiers had filled Sev with blistering, blinding pride.
Foolish pride.
He’d thought his parents were invincible, but of course they weren’t. Nobody was.
Sometimes Sev hated them for dying and leaving him behind, but it had taught him a valuable lesson about survival. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes as them.
As soon as he got away from camp tonight, he’d disappear. No more Jotham and Ott, no more scowling bondservants and vengeful girls with sharp knives and extinct phoenixes. He wanted none of it, had chosen none of it. It was time he took his life into his own hands.
With a forceful, somewhat clumsy command, Sev directed the bats away from Heller.
They resisted. Sev was a passable animage at best—too many years of hiding his abilities had left them weak and unimpressive—and the creatures merely chittered and shifted in agitation.
Heller glanced up at the tree, and a cold sweat broke out over Sev’s neck. With a desperate surge of his magic, Sev pushed hard, and the bats took flight, darting through the leaves in a burst of shifting, flapping shadows.
Heller cursed and lurched to his feet, squinting into the darkness toward the sound of the chattering bats.
This is it.
“I’d be more careful if I were you,” said a voice just behind him. Sev’s heart leapt into his throat. He whipped around to see a small figure standing mere inches behind him.
It was a withered old bondservant whose pale, wrinkled face was topped with a cap of wispy white hair, which caught the barest gleam of the moonlight above like a tuft of cotton on the end of a stalk. He’d noticed her before, laughing darkly all by herself and muttering constantly in her sleep. The links of her chain gleamed, casting reflected light onto her face.
“Careful?” Sev asked, turning back around, seeking Heller through the shadows. “Get out of here, old woman,” he whispered angrily, preparing to make a run for it, noise be damned.
“You know,” she said loudly—too loudly—leaning comfortably against the tree. “If you were smart, you’d do exactly as I tell you, before it’s too late.”
Sev wanted to wring her spindly neck. He’d completely lost track of Heller, the bats were still putting up a racket, and even as he resolved to throw caution to the wind and make a break for it, a voice called out through the darkness.
“Heller, you there?”
It was Rian, wandering over from his position farther south. Had the noise from the bats been that loud, or did they often visit each other during lookout shifts?
Sev was still hidden from view, but he wouldn’t be for long. He looked desperately at the old woman.
“Up, in the tree,” she said, pointing to the heavy, low-hanging boughs. It was definitely climbable. Not pausing to think about why she was helping him—or how she would explain her own presence at the edges of camp in the middle of the night—Sev took hold of the nearest branch and hoisted himself up.
He was just crouching into position on a wide branch when the old bondservant began screeching from somewhere below.
“Help, help!” she cried into the night, and Sev nearly dropped from his perch. What in Noct’s name was she doing? “Over here!”
Rian found her at once, blade drawn. The tree cover was thinner out here, and Sev could make out the man’s scowl in the dappled light of the moon.
“Oh, thank the gods and their servants,” the woman said breathlessly as Heller joined them as well.
“You’ll have the whole camp up in arms with your incessant trilling, woman,” Heller barked, wheezing as he caught his breath. “What are you on about?”
Sev was utterly still. Even his lungs didn’t move—though he silently begged them to.
“I . . . that is to say, we . . . need your help.” And to Sev’s horror, she pointed at him, squatted above in the tree like an overgrown bird.
“What in blazes are you doing up there?” asked Rian, sidling next to her and bringing Sev into his sights.
“One of my pigeons has taken ill,” the woman said hastily. “Took off when I tried to tend to him and wound up in this tree. Refuses to come down, no matter how I beg and cajole. You know how the pigeons get. Their brains are a bit addled—see, there it goes.”
A warm something splatted on top of Sev’s head, and he suspected he knew what it was. Looking up, he was unsurprised—though no less chagrined—to spot a pigeon cooing meekly after emptying his bowels on top of Sev. He had dealt with entirely too much crap today.
“This lad was helping me retrieve the poor fellow, but alas, he’s not much of a climber and can’t seem to get down again.”
Sev shot daggers at the old woman, who only looked up at him with wide-eyed concern. After taking a deep breath and fighting the urge to call out her ludicrous lies, Sev did as Rian and Heller instructed and held the pigeon in his hands while Rian scaled the branches to help him.
It was mortifying, having the man half carry him down the tree like a child who’d climbed too high and gotten scared.
Standing before them at last, with a pigeon clutched to his chest and bird droppings in his hair, Sev couldn’t quell the growing suspicion that the woman was having rather a good time. She was certainly smiling widely enough.
Rian and Heller told them to head back to camp, and Sev walked alongside her, trying to decide whether he should thank her or throttle her.
She had helped him, in an extremely roundabout way. If she hadn’t stopped him, he’d likely have barreled into Rian as he tried to run away. Even if he hadn’t, the bats had made such a fuss that Rian and Heller probably would have come poking around anyway. Sev could’ve tried his drunk routine, but he knew that was a less-than-foolproof strategy.
Once they were out of earshot of the perimeter guards, Sev cast the woman a sidelong glance.
“You’re welcome,” she said graciously, and Sev scowled.
“For what? For making a fool out of me?” he snapped.
“Oh, I think you were doing a fine job of that on your own. I saw your, uh, trick, with the bats. Do you want them to know what you are, boy?” she asked. “They’ll tag and chain you faster than you can say ‘phoenix.’ ”
Sev’s mouth went dr
y. She had caught him using his magic.
While at first glance the woman seemed frail and grandmotherly, Sev sensed she was anything but. Even as she stood there in her loosely hanging tunic, with bits of her cotton hair standing in all directions, her eyes glittered with keen intelligence.
Sev opened his mouth to speak, cleared his throat, then shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage while still holding the pigeon. He pushed it into her hands. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
Best to play dumb. Sev was very good at it.
“Oh, I think you do,” she said as she took the pigeon. “An animage living and working among the empire’s soldiers. Such a terrible secret to bear.”
She bowed her head to the pigeon in her hands, murmuring in a low voice, and then released it. The bird soared away as gracefully as an eagle on an updraft. Sev frowned. The pigeon wasn’t even sick. Had the whole thing been some kind of trap?
“Perhaps it was that burden that drove you to sneak off in the dead of night with a packed bag and purseful of stolen gold,” she said with a weary sigh, as if the entire thing were some terrible tragedy.
Sev gaped at her, unsurprised that she’d gleaned he’d been trying to escape but confused about her last comment. “Gold? What—”
She gestured for him to check his pack, a smug smile on her face. Frowning, Sev dug within its depths, drawing out a coin purse—one he most certainly had not packed—embroidered with Captain Belden’s initials in golden thread. When had she planted it on him? He’d never felt so much as a tug or brush against him.
“What did you . . . ? I never—how—” he blathered. She only smirked, snatching it from his hand in a lightning-fast move and making it disappear again.
“It would be a terrible thing to have to report you,” she said, her tone still heavy with feigned sorrow.
“No one would believe you,” he said faintly.
That had to be true. Sev was a soldier, one of the empire’s most celebrated servants—no matter how low he was on the food chain. This woman was a bondservant, a criminal.
It seemed she was following his train of thought. “Whether they believed my word or not, the facts would be stacked against you, boy. Stealing from the captain’s own personal stores, your fondness for poor sick animals stuck in trees. . . .”
Tingling, crackling fury was creeping up Sev’s neck.
“And that’s not to mention the way the other animals flock to you.”
“The animals don’t flock to me,” he said automatically, though he thought he already caught her meaning.
“Not yet they don’t.”
Sev stopped walking. He was truly and completely foxed.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked.
“I propose a deal: You give me what I want, and I give you what you want—an escape.”
“There you are,” came a low voice from the darkness of the camp. Sev blinked in surprise when the bondservant from earlier emerged. When he spotted Sev, he scowled. “What’s he doing here? And what’s . . . ?” he trailed off, eyeing the mess in Sev’s hair.
“We were talking,” Sev said shortly, tugging a rag from his pack and wiping angrily at his hair. “Me and . . . uh . . .”
“The soldiers and servants call me Thya,” she said, filling in the silence. “But I grow weary of it. I’d like something with more oomph, you know? More pizzazz.”
There was a pause. Sev was certain she was going to keep speaking, but she didn’t.
“Like what?” he prompted.
She pursed her lips. “I’m not sure yet. There’s so much in a name. . . . What’s yours again, boy? Seb?”
“Sev,” he corrected.
“Sev. A unique name. Ferronese, isn’t it? Short for Sevro?”
His brows rose. “Sevro” wasn’t so much a unique name as it was a rare one, even in Ferro where it originated—and where his father was from. People rarely guessed his Ferronese background, as he’d taken both the straight hair and warm brown skin from his mother’s Pyraean side. He did grow a bit paler in the winter months, though, and it was only just spring.
He nodded in confirmation, and she grinned. “Yes. Thought so—you’ve got hints of that olive-toned Ferronese glow about you. And those eyes are as golden-green as Teyke’s cat. He’s quite handsome for a soldier, isn’t he, Kade?”
Kade scowled, and Sev’s face grew hot under the attention of their stares. He jumped in before the bondservant could answer.
“Look, I don’t care what you want to be called,” he began, trying to get the conversation off his looks and back on point. “Just tell me—”
“Trix,” she announced, and Sev faltered.
“Uh, okay, fine. Trix—”
“Or Trixie? No, no, I take it back. Too silly. Trix is best.”
“Enough of this,” Kade growled, as fed up as Sev. He turned to Trix. “I need to talk to you.”
“So do I,” Sev cut in, stepping forward.
Kade glared at him, straightening his spine and filling the space between them with his broad chest. Sev might outrank him—just barely—but that meant nothing when they were standing alone in the dark with no commanding officers to keep order. Kade knew Sev was a green soldier, easier to stand up to and bully than someone like Ott, but Sev wasn’t going to be intimidated. This woman had just offered him an ultimatum—or maybe it was a threat—and he needed to understand what he’d gotten himself into.
“Well, now, an old lady could get used to this,” Trix said, eyes twinkling. “Come on, boys, let’s take a walk through the moonlight.”
She made for the darker cover of the forest thicket, away from the sleeping figures in the camp but still a good distance from the perimeter guard. The moonlight she supposedly sought was nowhere to be found in the dense trees.
“It’s about the girl,” Kade said under his breath, trying to exclude Sev from the conversation, though they were walking mere feet apart.
“What girl? The one by the cabin?” Sev asked.
“What’s it to you, soldier?”
Trix sighed, coming to a stop next to a massive gnarled tree and taking a seat on a thick root. “Enough, Kade. He’s working with us now.”
“I am?” Sev asked at the exact same moment Kade said, “He is?”
“Aren’t you, soldier boy?” she asked, carefully adjusting the folds of her threadbare tunic, all dignity and polite innocence. You give me what I want, and I give you what you want. But working with them, what could that possibly mean? Did they want help with their bondservant duties?
Kade frowned between them. “I don’t have time for your little games, Thya.”
“Trix. I’d like to be called Trix.”
“The captain has left camp,” Kade practically growled, his voice rumbling. “This will be our only shot. She’s little more than a girl, and she’s in danger.”
Trix’s expression turned thoughtful. “Safer as a girl, I think, than as a woman. Besides, she’ll be in more danger if you go back there.”
“It is the girl by the cabin you’re talking about, isn’t it?” Sev asked. “The one with the—”
“Watch your mouth, soldier,” Kade hissed, glancing quickly around. After several heartbeats’ silence, he turned back to Trix. “Now is the perfect opportunity. We have to help her.”
“How can we help her, Kade? Better to leave her behind than to lead her onward . . . into peril.”
“But she’s defenseless.”
“She’s not,” Sev said quietly, thinking of her sister’s ease with a blade.
“Did she do that to your neck?” Kade asked, rounding on Sev again. When had he seen the knife wound on Sev’s throat? Surely he couldn’t see it now, when Sev could barely see the bondservant’s face. “What did you do to her after I left?”
“Kade,” Trix said sharply, and to Sev’s surprise, he backed down at once.
“I didn’t do anything to her except save her life.”
Trix smiled at this, but Kade remain
ed stony.
“She’s fine, I swear it,” Sev added softly, but there was no reply.
“See? No need to fret,” Trix said brightly, though her voice turned severe as she continued. “I will not sacrifice our mission, and the fate of the Phoenix Riders, for one mountain girl.”
Sev felt like the ground had disappeared beneath his feet. “Phoenix Riders?” he whispered hoarsely.
While he gaped at Trix in shock, Kade was glowering at her in outrage. He obviously hadn’t taken kindly to her shutting down his idea, and Sev didn’t know what was more confusing—that she had the audacity to give him orders, or that Kade apparently followed them.
“Oh yes, soldier. Your captain would have you march up this mountain and wipe out the last remnants of the Phoenix Riders. He’s off right now, meeting with his sneak of an informant.”
Sev felt nauseated. He should have known—did know, somewhere deep inside. Maybe that was why the girl had spooked him so badly today. Maybe that was why he’d been so desperate to make his escape.
“The tree cover,” he muttered, waving over their heads, “the ‘no fire’ rule. He’s not worried about us exposing ourselves to the local villagers. . . . He’s worried about exposing us to the sky. To the Riders.”
Sev couldn’t deny that a part of his heart soared at the idea that there were still Phoenix Riders out there in hiding, but the rest of him quickly stomped down the feeling. What was there to be happy about? They didn’t stand a chance against the empire before, when there were hundreds of them and they had a fiery warrior queen to lead them. But now, with no heir in sight and their numbers reduced to the brink of extinction, what chance did they have?
Trix positively beamed at him. “Told you he was brighter than he seemed,” she said to Kade.
It appeared Sev’s reputation of mild-mannered stupidity preceded him—even if this woman had seen through the ruse. Kade was looking at him with unflattering surprise, as if he’d truly thought Sev were some kind of simpleton.
“What’s it to you if I’m smart or not? What do you want from me?” Sev asked Trix.
Crown of Feathers Page 7
