village gate. Shot down with arrows. Afterward Xatara fled.”
“I . . . I see,” he said gruffly, clearing his throat. “I’ll send someone to gather the body. There’s a chance . . .” He trailed off. “We’ll burn her, along with the rest of our fallen warriors.”
He glanced at Sparrow, with Chirp’s body beside her, then at the small row of dead dogs, cats, and pigeons that were being laid out on the massive phoenix plinth. Back in the stronghold, Veronyka had seen a similar thing being done with the dead human bodies—fallen warriors, like Ersken said. Veronyka couldn’t bear to look closely, to recognize a familiar face.
She knew she should be grateful, that it was a miracle so many of them had survived this night when the odds were so dangerously stacked against them. But it was hard to feel anything more than heartbreak.
While everyone was busy tending their own bondmates or helping with the wounded, Veronyka pushed her way through the mass of feathery bodies and hugged Xephyra tight. She was proud and amazed at her phoenix’s daring during the battle and how well she’d assimilated into their group. The males had some sense of her, of this “other” presence within their familiar flock, but after fighting together, it seemed they’d accepted her as one of them. Veronyka could only hope that she would be given the same treatment.
As Xephyra drank from a trough, Veronyka grabbed several bundles of fresh fruit wrapped in leaves. She left half with her phoenix and took the rest to Rex, who was perched on the outside ledge, away from the commotion. He was subdued, looking small and forlorn all by himself, but made no move to join in with the others.
Before Veronyka could do more than pick her way over, a shadow flew over her head, and Xephyra landed on the ledge next to him.
Rex bristled slightly, but Xephyra kept her distance, cocking her head back and forth, studying him. Veronyka wondered if her phoenix sensed something from Rex, some element of the bizarre connection that linked Veronyka to Tristan.
After rustling his good wing and puffing up his feathers, Rex settled somewhat, and Xephyra seemed to take it as an invitation to move closer. She had something in her beak, and when she was close enough, she bowed her head and dropped one of the fruit bundles Veronyka had given her on the ground next to Rex.
Rex’s golden beak roved over the package before picking through the leaves for the fruit within. Veronyka looked down at the food in her hand, apparently no longer needed, and grinned.
Xephyra’s compassion filtered through the bond, warming Veronyka’s chest.
You’ll keep an eye on him? she asked, hastily examining the bandage over Rex’s wound. It was clean and wrapped tightly—more to stop him from using his wing and slowing the healing process—and she knew he’d recover soon.
Xephyra squawked in response, settling down next to Rex. The sight of it made Veronyka’s heart swell.
Her duties done, she sagged against the wall near the entrance to the Eyrie, where several others were doing the same. She was tired, but her exhaustion was so deep and constant that she’d forgotten what it was like to be without it.
As she floated in the fluid place between sleep and waking, Val’s face appeared in her mind. Veronyka straightened, wondering if her sister was okay, wherever she was.
Veronyka could find her, of course. Val had shown her how. They had a permanent connection between them, which meant that she could find Val almost anywhere, like she could with her bondmate. Time strengthened that ability, and Veronyka wasn’t sure how long the link between her and Val had been in place. Not that it mattered. Val couldn’t have gone far.
Is this the slippery slope? she wondered idly, settling more comfortably onto the ground as she turned her focus inward, searching for their connection. There was always a reason to use shadow magic, but Veronyka had to trust herself and her own instincts. The magic had served her well in the battle, and though it irked her to admit it, she had to know Val was safe.
As soon as Veronyka closed her eyes, she felt Val in her mind. Her sister wasn’t actually there, but rather, the link between them left traces of her even when she was gone. It was as if the doorway was a piece of Val, hidden out of sight but ready to connect with whenever Veronyka needed it.