‘fire’ or ‘flame’ in Pyraean. Coupled with ‘xe’ . . .”
“Sweet Flame,” Veronyka said, still running her fingers along her drowsy bondmate’s silky feathers.
“Or Flame Sister,” Val corrected, given that the prefix could also mean “brother” or “sister,” based on the gender of the name. Val had taught her all about language, how to read and write, and about the stars and the seasons and history.
Everything Veronyka was, she owed to Val.
She held her breath a moment, afraid that the suggestion that this new intruder was as close to her as a sister would make Val angry.
Finally Val spoke. “That is a name worthy of a Pyraean queen.” Her eyes glittered as if the words were the highest praise.
Veronyka felt a surge of pride at having pleased her sister, and yet she feared what Val said might be true, that she and her bondmate could meet the same fate as the Pyraean queens: fire, glory—and death.
After all, while animages across the valley and beyond might rejoice to see flaming phoenix tracks across the sky once more, not everyone wanted the Phoenix Riders to return.
In Pyra, death was celebrated as much as life. Only through endings could there be beginnings. That was the lesson of the phoenix, and it was the lesson of my life as well.
- CHAPTER 3 -
SEV
SEV KEPT HIS EYES on his feet.
It was a survival tactic, a defense mechanism—and a way to avoid stepping in another steaming pile of llama crap.
For the past six months, Sev had adjusted rather poorly to his new life as a Golden Empire soldier. He’d not chosen this path, after all, and resented being lined up alongside a ragtag mix of petty thieves, murderers, and poor children with no other options.
They reminded him of exactly what he was: a poor, thieving murderer.
If possible, he enjoyed his proximity to the empire bondservants even less. They reminded him not of his worst self, but of his best—the part he’d sworn to leave behind. The part he’d had to stifle and suffocate until only the smoking wick remained. Sev might be an animage, the same as them, but that didn’t mean he had to live like one—an unpaid servant for the rest of his life.
And he didn’t have to die like one either, leaving people who needed him behind. Like his parents had done to him.
Of course, no one needed Sev. He’d made sure of that. It had seemed like a good idea as a child, when his world had collapsed around him. Love no one, and let no one love you. Less pain that way. Sev could die tomorrow, and not a soul would miss him.
Sometimes it was hard to remember why he’d thought that was a good thing.
Sev continued to trudge on, but when the feet in front of him slowed, he risked a glance up. He and the rest of his unit—ten soldiers in total, not including nearly a dozen bondservants—were escorting thirty llamas they’d purchased from a breeder in the backwoods of the lower rim of Pyrmont, the mountain that held the majority of Pyra’s settlements.
It was painful to be here again, so close and yet so far from home. He’d longed for a chance to return, to leave the empire behind, but he’d never imagined he’d return like this—as a soldier serving the very empire he hated.
It was thanks to the empire that Pyra was now a cursed land with cursed people. Their fight for independence had ended in thousands of deaths—the deaths of the Phoenix Riders, in all their fiery glory. The deaths of Avalkyra Ashfire, their would-be queen, and the sister who challenged her.
The deaths of Sev’s mother and father.
Now Pyra was the home of exiles and people who’d fought against the empire in the Blood War, or animages who wanted to avoid the registry and use their magic in peace. There were no governors stationed here, no laws or taxes or even soldiers to defend this place. Raids were common near the border, which was why Sev and his fellow soldiers were dressed in rags and mismatched gear. They wanted to blend in.
They were part of a much larger force, which was camped well away from the Pilgrimage Road, the main thoroughfare through Pyra. Sev and this small splinter unit had been tasked with exchanging their wagons—useless on the steep off-road paths they intended to take—for the sure-footed llamas, who were docile and mild-mannered beasts of burden, excess excrement aside. Their unit was meant to return to