The man who tended the female phoenixes was a local animage named Ersken. He and Beryk had grown up together in Petratec, and he was an expert at breeding hunting falcons, which was why the commander had enlisted him—with Beryk’s help.
It was clear, however, that Ersken was out of his league in trying to breed phoenixes. He was grave but honest, telling her that most of his chores involved feeding the birds and cleaning the enclosure. They also needed to be exercised daily, preferably when the other phoenixes were out flying. The so-called breeding happened only once a month, for a week, and with virtually no success—unless you counted the single egg that was probably fertilized outside the enclosure anyway.
Though the Eyrie was open to the clear blue sky several hundred feet above, the bottommost levels were shady and cool, untouched by the early morning sun.
Ersken led her around, pointing into workrooms and storage areas, but Veronyka was too distracted to pay much attention. All she cared about was seeing Xephyra.
At last they climbed down the stairs of the gallery, which ran the length of the circular space, and into the courtyard below.
The enclosure stood before them.
While the area was large and clean, it was still a cage, excavated directly from the stone of the mountain, with bars that enclosed it on both sides: where it opened into the Eyrie, and at the back, which gave a view of the gorge and steep mountain cliffs beyond. There appeared to be a matching enclosure next to the first one, but it was dark and unused—awaiting more females, Veronyka thought darkly. The pair of them reminded her of prison cells.
A rustling sound from the first enclosure drew her attention—phoenixes stirring in the shadows—then suddenly Xephyra lurched forward to greet her. The space inside was high enough that they could perch out of sight in cracks and crevices and wide enough that they could stretch their wings and fly from side to side. Ersken seemed surprised by Xephyra’s warm welcome of Veronyka and took the chance to fill the phoenixes’ water trough from a nearby barrel.
At the sound of the sloshing water, the two other females came forward, but with far more wariness than Xephyra. The nearer of the two was just a bit smaller than Veronyka’s bondmate, eyes bright with curiosity. The one behind was larger, her purple crest and tail almost black at the tips, and emanated nothing but cold, fierce hate. She puffed out her feathers, making herself look even bigger, and returned to the shadows of the enclosure after inspecting Veronyka with a detached stare. Veronyka had the sense that she was very old, though she couldn’t be certain—the phoenix’s mind was locked tight.
Xephyra’s beak pushed eagerly between the wide bars, and with a glance to make sure Ersken was occupied, Veronyka stroked it gently. Even after everything, Xephyra still wanted to be near her, still loved her. Veronyka tried to think of words, of apologies and reassurances and regrets, but she found that she didn’t need them. Xephyra knew. They were bonded, after all, and while they might need time to mend the strong bridge they’d once had between them, it was still there, and Xephyra knew her heart.
There were endless questions to ask as well—about where her bondmate had been and what had happened in their time apart—but Veronyka let them rest for now. They had forever to catch up.
The feathers along Xephyra’s neck were smooth and silky, and with a bit of searching, Veronyka located the barest hint of a scar in her shoulder joint, where the arrow had grazed her wing the previous night. Phoenixes healed quickly, and the wound had been superficial.
The relief Veronyka felt at being here with Xephyra, seeing her safe and unharmed, was powerful. She actually had to grip the bars for balance, pushing slow, steady breaths through her nostrils. It was okay. Xephyra was okay. She had known it, would have felt it through the bond if Xephyra had been harmed, but it still meant something to see it with her own eyes.
Suddenly everything else seemed more manageable. Veronyka and Xephyra were together again. Truly that was all that mattered.
Still, Xephyra was confused by her confinement, and her mind was somewhat frantic and scattered. Val’s face kept popping up, but Veronyka supposed that her sister’s actions had left their mark on her bondmate. She had died, after all. Veronyka wondered if Xephyra even understood what had happened to her.