they had a phoenix to protect, Veronyka and Val needed those friendships more than ever. “The owner of this cabin could be back at any moment,” Veronyka continued. “Xephyra’s still small, but she’s only going to get bigger. And those soldiers . . . We’re not safe here.”
“I will protect us,” Val said. “I always have, haven’t I?” Her jaw jutted out, as if daring Veronyka to claim otherwise.
“Even if you’re not here?”
Val’s nostrils flared. “If you’d done what I told you to do and stayed inside—”
“I’d probably be dead,” Veronyka snapped. They stared at each other, but Val made no reply. “We don’t have to do this alone,” Veronyka whispered, trying to keep her voice reasonable. “We could look for other animages. We could look for Phoenix Riders.”
“Phoenix Riders?” Val repeated flatly. “There are no Phoenix Riders, Veronyka. The empire slaughtered them all.”
“The Riders maybe, but not the animages. If we can hunt down lost eggs and hatch them, who’s to say that others haven’t done the same? We should travel higher up Pyrmont. The farther we get from the empire, the better.”
“The empire is everywhere, not just on the lower rim. We can’t trust anyone but ourselves.”
Veronyka bit her lip. All their lives it had been like this. Veronyka was never allowed to make friends, to attend festivals or walk the city alone. It had gotten worse after their grandmother’s death, but her loss made Veronyka yearn for connection all the more. Val pretended it was about safety, blindly threatening to kill any stranger who crossed her path, but Veronyka knew it was more about control—and she was tired of constantly bowing to Val’s whims.
Yes, the empire was everywhere—they’d just seen the evidence. But just because someone was from the empire didn’t mean they were bad. Veronyka and Val had both been born in the empire, no matter their Pyraean roots, and so had their maiora. She had told them to protect each other—but that didn’t mean living in seclusion and never trusting anyone else ever again.
Trusting that empire soldier had saved her life. If she’d been like Val, blindly threatening to kill any stranger who crossed her path, she’d probably be dead.
There was strength in trust, in unity. They needed to find a place where people like them could be safe and protected. If such a place didn’t exist, they’d have to make it for themselves.
“Call her off,” Val said, interrupting Veronyka’s thoughts. She jerked her chin down at Xephyra, who was picking her way across the floor, burrowing her beak in a pile of shavings.
“What—why? They’re garbage anyway.”
“That’s not the point,” Val snapped, picking up the knife from where it lay on the cutting stone. The air in the cabin stilled, as if all the oxygen had been siphoned from the room.
“She followed you today, left the cabin when you told her not to.”
“Val, nothing happened!” Veronyka lied, her throat tight with dread. She tried to think of what to say, how to talk Val down from her simmering rage, but her mind was a blank haze. “She’s still young. She’s curious, and—”
“She’s almost ready to ride, Veronyka! She’s no fresh hatchling. It’s been weeks since we built that pyre. Look how fast she grows, how much stronger she gets each day. You must rein her in. There may come a time when Xephyra’s obedience is the difference between life and death. You can’t ask her then. You will have to tell her—and she must listen.”
With the knife gripped in one hand, Val drew a pitted date from her pocket with the other, holding it in the center of her palm. Xephyra’s head popped up, drawn to Val’s movement, her eyes fixed on the fruit in the girl’s outstretched hand. Dates were her favorite.
“Val,” Veronyka said sharply, her muscles stiffening as she prepared to stand up. Val took a step backward, putting distance between her and Veronyka, and Xephyra followed.
Powerlessness seized Veronyka, turning her body to lead. Xephyra was just out of reach, yet she might as well have been on the other side of the valley. The phoenix’s attention was turned toward Val, but she soon felt Veronyka’s distress. Xephyra’s black eyes glittered as she swiveled her head, looking from her bondmate to the treat, and then back to Veronyka.
“Just call her off,” Val said calmly, stooping low to offer the date to Xephyra. Veronyka couldn’t take her eyes off the knife in Val’s hand. Dark, dangerous memories flashed before her eyes: Val dragging the