racing, and her heart was a skittering, lurching thing inside her chest. She needed to get away from Val, away from everything.
When she stepped through the stronghold gates, Veronyka was shocked to see Tristan standing there, just outside the double doors to the entrance hall, as if he was waiting for her.
“Nyk,” he began, unhitching himself from the wall and stepping toward her. Then, seeing the look on her face, he paused. “What’s wrong?”
Before Veronyka could answer, scraping footsteps sounded behind her, and she knew that Val had followed. Tristan’s eyes narrowed at her sister, and there was something hard and protective in his expression. Veronyka longed to give in to it, to trust in someone else’s care and not fear it, as she had to with Val.
“Are you coming to the feast?” Tristan asked, looking between them as he came to stand next to Veronyka.
Val started talking, but Veronyka didn’t hear it. The world around her went silent as she was hit with a powerful wave of emotion—emotion that was not her own. She staggered, trying to sort through her own feelings and those assaulting her.
Fear, rage, and confusion—she thought they belonged to Val at first, or maybe Tristan, but when she turned to face them both, she knew the sensations didn’t come from either of them. Veronyka whirled, staring into the dark corners of the courtyard. The feelings were familiar somehow, and when she reached out with her magic, a wild, savage screech filled the night.
Shouts echoed from the guards along the walls, who were pointing up at the sky. A flaming phoenix soared above, circling the stronghold in wide, erratic arcs, flying ever lower. Someone tugged Veronyka’s arm, trying to pull her back, but she resisted it.
The phoenix’s flight was dizzying—or maybe that was the swirl of emotions still spinning inside her. There was a pulse of intense heat, and then the phoenix landed on the cobblestones, mere feet in front of Veronyka. A powerful wave of its wings, and sparks danced across the ground.
The phoenix was juvenile, near the size of most of the apprenctice mounts, except its scarlet plumage was edged in deep purple that shimmered in the torchlight. Tracks of flame shone like lava between its feathers, and its eyes, black holes limned with fire, latched on to Veronyka’s and held her gaze.
A gasp escaped her lips, and she dropped to her knees.
Xephyra.
Day 11, Fifth Moon, 170 AE
Princess Pheronia and the Council of Governors,
I, Avalkyra Ashfire, the Feather-Crowned Queen and rightful ruler of the Golden Empire, hereby officially claim my throne.
It grieves me that I have been deemed a criminal and a traitor, when I have always acted for the good of my family, and of course, for the good of the empire.
I will be in Aura Nova one week hence, in order to discuss the terms of my ascension. You are welcome to negotiate your position in my new regime—but be warned, I have the might of Pyra, Ferro, and the Phoenix Riders behind me.
—Queen Avalkyra Ashfire
P.S. Happy eighteenth birthday, Princess.
But one must be cautious who they bond themselves to. Once fastened, those ties do not easily come undone.
- CHAPTER 29 -
VERONYKA
VERONYKA KNEW IT, FELT it, even as her eyes refused to believe it. Her mental safe house burst open, flooding her mind with memories, and in them, Xephyra was still small enough to carry. The creature before her now was almost the size of a pony, her claws sharp and her wingspan as wide as the cabin she’d be born in.
Reborn in. Xephyra had come back. Somehow Veronyka had managed it. Somehow that cold pile of ash had turned into her phoenix once more. No matter how much she’d grown in their time apart, there was no mistaking the bond between them. The instant their eyes met, it had sparked back to life, like fresh tinder on the smoldering embers of a banked fire. The connection crackled between them, shock and recognition setting Veronyka’s very soul ablaze.
Xephyra was on fire too—there were great billowing waves of it, rippling over her scarlet feathers, so hot they burned bright, blisteringly blue. But these weren’t the flames of happiness, of a phoenix and Rider rejoined. . . . They were the flames of danger.
Veronyka looked over her shoulder, noticing the crowd of people there for the first time.
Apprentices, servants, and villagers were huddled near the entrance to the dining hall, where they had undoubtedly spilled out in reaction to Xephyra’s fierce shrieks.