you find me?” Veronyka demanded. “What do you want?”
“Who’s the boy?” Val asked, nodding back toward the stronghold.
“Nobody,” Veronyka said sharply.
Val laughed, the light, tinkling sound raising the hair on Veronyka’s arms. “Oh, come now, little sister. You can lock your feelings up all you want, but you cannot hide them from me.”
Or have you forgotten?
Veronyka lurched back, hastily reinforcing her mental walls, seeking out the gaps in the stones. She’d gotten lazy in her time away from her sister, not constantly on her guard as she’d had to be all her life. Now the barrier felt flimsy, as if cracks and crevices had appeared in the time she’d stopped tending the wall so diligently.
“You still haven’t told me what you want or why you’re here.”
Val shrugged dismissively. “I came back for you,” she said at last.
Came back? That didn’t even make sense. Was Val delusional enough to think that she was here for Veronyka’s sake? That Veronyka needed her help?
“We’re family,” Val added, her voice stripped of her usual scorn. “I would go anywhere, do anything, for you. Surely you know that.”
Yes, Veronyka did know that. Val would do anything—she was a person without limits, it seemed, and so full of self-righteous conviction that she could justify any dangerous action or bizarre behavior—and that was an exhausting burden to bear.
“And now you’re here,” Veronyka said. “What it is that you want?”
Val crossed her arms stiffly, looking uncomfortable. A surprising thought occurred to Veronyka. Had Val come to apologize? Could it be that she regretted what she’d done and she wanted to make things right?
“I know we didn’t part on the best of terms,” Val began, resting a hand on Veronyka’s shoulder. “But that’s in the past.”
Nope, no apology. Veronyka jerked out of reach. “The best of terms?” she repeated, her voice shaky. The shock of seeing her sister, the resurfaced memories of hurt and betrayal . . . they were catching up with Veronyka, making her dizzy and light-headed.
“You’re still angry with me, for culling your—”
“Culling?” Veronyka choked, the word torn from her constricted throat. “She was my bondmate!”
Val pressed her lips together, her nostrils flaring. Then she took a slow, measured breath, as if Veronyka were an irrational child throwing a tantrum and Val were searching for patience. Veronyka glanced around, knowing she shouldn’t have shouted, but no one was nearby. Voices and laughter could be heard from the field beyond the gate, where everyone gathered, but the village itself was quiet. She had to keep her temper under control. . . . She had to keep Val under control.
“We don’t have time for this, Veronyka. I need you by my side. We’re stronger, better, together.”
The words grated. How could Val even think that? Over the past few weeks Veronyka had seen what real friendship was—how two people could work together and help each other, and that wasn’t what her relationship with Val had ever been, or would ever be.
“With me you can be yourself,” Val continued, gaze roving Veronyka’s face. “You’ve cut your braids and forgotten yourself, posing as—what? Some peasant boy-child?”
“I am myself; I haven’t forgotten anything. And there’s nothing wrong with dressing like a boy,” Veronyka said, fighting for composure. “Queen Malka did it. She bound her breasts and kept her braids short.”
Val rolled her eyes, but before she could reply, Veronyka added, “And I’m not just a peasant; I’m a stablehand.”
“A stablehand? You abandoned me, your only family in the world, so you could live a lie as a no-name servant?”
“So what?” Veronyka asked, her voice rising again. “There are worse things than serving those you respect, than paying your dues until . . .”
“Until what, xe Nyka? You think I don’t know, that I didn’t ask around, didn’t pry into heads and hearts and figure it out the moment I stepped foot in this sorry excuse for a Rider outpost? No female Riders and only a dozen masters—half barely out of childhood and the rest wrinkled, old men? They have no eggs, and no eggs means no phoenixes and no future.”
Veronyka shook, unnerved that Val had gleaned so much so quickly. “I wouldn’t need to be here, waiting for a phoenix egg, if you hadn’t killed my bondmate.”
Val’s hands clenched and unclenched, her face twisting with anger. She turned abruptly away, as if she wanted to punch something, but after a deep breath, the rigid line of her back loosened. She looked over her shoulder. “If that were different—if things were different .