such an instinct existed in him. He supposed the months of combat training were finally starting to pay off.
Only, he’d never trained against an unarmed girl bursting forth from the trees like a startled animal. Her eyes lit on him, then darted to the cabin. This must be her home, and here he was, armed and blocking her from returning to it.
The girl was young—not much younger than Sev himself, but something about her seemed childlike. Her rich golden-brown skin glowed like bronze in the sun, and her black hair was twisted with braids, thick and thin, some capped with beads and shining objects, others woven with thread. Her feet were bare, and that willful vulnerability told Sev that she’d thought she was safe here, safe enough to leave her home without fear of never returning again. Perhaps it was that certainty of survival, that sense of invincibility, that made her seem young to him. It had been a long time since Sev had enjoyed that feeling of safety.
As soon as she saw the knife in his hand, she became abruptly, unnaturally still—like prey sensing a predator.
Sev swallowed, his throat as dry as sunbaked sand. What was he supposed to do now? If Jotham and Ott saw her, they’d want her silenced.
The sound of breaking glass echoed from the cabin behind him, shattering the frozen moment. The girl’s head whipped in the direction of the noise, and the realization that there were more raiders, that Sev was not alone, dawned on her face.
“Empty,” came Jotham’s voice, loud and impossibly close-sounding. Sev’s heartbeat spiked painfully, but when he glanced behind him, both Jotham and Ott were still inside the cabin. “Not a damn thing worth stealing, either,” Ott added.
Panic sang through Sev’s veins. If there was nothing worth stealing, they’d be outside again at any moment.
He turned back to the girl. “Get out of here,” he whispered, waving his hand toward the trees.
The girl frowned, clearly confused. Why was a raider who’d drawn his knife on her now telling her to run away? She must suspect some kind of trick, and when her eyes roved the trees around them—and settled on the bondservant, lurking in the shadows behind Sev—she stepped away from them, deeper into the clearing. Wrong direction.
“No, wait. I, we . . . ,” Sev began, gesturing toward the bondservant, “mean you no harm.” He sheathed his dagger. “But they”—he pointed toward the cabin—“do.”
She wavered, her gaze flicking from Sev and the bondservant to the cabin, as more sounds drifted out to them: the clatter of items being carelessly tossed around, followed by indiscernible mutters and curses.
Before any of them could make another move, something drew Sev’s attention to the forest behind her. A ripple of energy or movement. He thought it might be an animal, but before he could figure it out, the branches to the right of the girl shook and creaked, and something fluttered forward to land protectively on her shoulder.
It was an animal—a bird, bright red, with long tail feathers and the beginnings of a spiky crown atop its head. It stood out like fire in the darkness, like the moon on a cloudless night. This was no ordinary animal; this was a creature of magic, its presence pure and powerful and tingling against Sev’s skin.
A phoenix.
The bondservant shoved Sev roughly aside, gaze fixed on the firebird. The girl’s muscles tensed, but this was no attack. The bondservant stopped and pressed a hand to his chest, a gesture of reverence and respect, and bowed his head. The girl looked up at him, at the chain hanging heavy on his neck, and it seemed that she knew what he was. An unspoken understanding passed between them. They were both animages—only someone with animal magic could hatch and bond with a phoenix, and only animages were forced into bondage in the empire—and that seemed to unify them in a way that left Sev feeling cold and disconnected despite his own magic, standing in the shadows cast by their warm glow.
She gently stroked the phoenix, perched on her shoulder, and a hesitant glance seemed to invite the bondservant to do the same. He took a halting step forward, hand outstretched, when the loud smack of the door against the frame brought them all sharply back to reality.
“Captain’ll have our hides if we don’t get moving . . . ,” Ott was saying, as a second smack of the door told Sev that Jotham was following just behind, as