the chances this would work.
And it had to work.
Putting Xephyra’s empty, lifeless body onto the flames was almost more than Veronyka could bear. She flashed back to the moment of the phoenix’s birth, when Xephyra had stood upon hot coals without so much as a scorch mark. Now her body went up instantly, like dry paper. The flames licked across her spread wings, her curled feet, and Veronyka thought she might choke from the desperation inside her.
This was her bondmate. Xephyra’s pain should be her pain, but Veronyka knew the blistering anguish inside was entirely her own.
Val had been standing against the wall the entire time. She didn’t speak a word, didn’t ask questions or point out mistakes. Good. Veronyka had had enough of Val’s advice.
She settled on her knees and stared into the flames.
This is not the end.
The sun set.
Dawn came.
Went.
Shadows moved across the ground, and the bright sky outside their window bruised with the coming twilight.
She had kept the fire burning for twelve hours. Then twenty-four, using every scrap of wood from the stack outside.
But just as the fire dwindled, so too did Veronyka’s hope.
She was cold. Bone-chillingly cold. The steady heat that had warmed her all night and all day was gone, the fire nothing but a pile of ashes, softly stirred by the evening breeze.
Her tears had stopped, her eyes so dry that Veronyka didn’t know if she’d ever be able to cry again. They were itchy and swollen and heavy with sleep, but Veronyka continued to watch.
She watched until the last flickering ember went out. It echoed something inside her, some lost piece of herself that Veronyka knew she’d never get back.
Is this what the end feels like?
As intently as Veronyka had watched the flames, so Val had watched her.
Now she put a hand on Veronyka’s shoulder and opened her mouth to speak.
Veronyka jerked away and gathered her belongings. She felt stiff and disconnected from the world, numb in a way that had nothing to do with the cold outside and everything to do with the cold inside.
“Veronyka,” Val said, her tone measured. “Talk to me.”
Veronyka ignored her, tugging on her warm leather boots and grabbing her cloak from the hook by the door.
“Xe Nyka—you need me. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“I do not need you,” Veronyka snapped, her voice raw from the smoke.
Val bristled. “Oh, yes you do. This cabin, that food—the clothes on your back. All of that comes from me.”
Veronyka glared at her. Despite Val’s sharp tone, her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. The sight made Veronyka’s fists clench. Val had no right to sadness, not in the face of what she’d done.
“Fine,” Veronyka said, kicking off the boots and flinging the cloak onto the dusty ground, leaving behind anything Val had given her. She stood in nothing but the threadbare, undyed tunic and pants she’d been wearing since the previous day—clothes she had made herself. Val called them “farmer’s dreck” and hated the practical worker’s attire. She preferred scraps of expensive silk and faded embroidery, no matter how old, dirty, and worn-out.
“Veronyka, you’ll freeze.”
“No I won’t,” she said, marching over to the edge of the cold hearth and picking up the soldier’s knife from the dirt. “This,” she said, holding it outward and causing Val to stop in her tracks, “does not belong to you.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing!” Val shouted to her retreating back, following Veronyka as she marched out the door.
“Yes I do,” Veronyka said, whirling around. Val stood on the threshold of their home, looking strangely small and forlorn. Veronyka was repulsed by the sight of her. “I’m getting away from you. As far and as fast as my feet will carry me. I would rather die than stay here one second longer.”
Val’s face twisted with rage. “Where will you go? Off searching for Phoenix Riders?” she sneered. “They are gone, Veronyka, and not even your foolish hope will change that.”
“Nothing about hope is foolish,” Veronyka said, turning her back on her sister once more. Val was a determined person, almost to the point of obsession, but one thing she’d always lacked was imagination.
Veronyka couldn’t see the end of the long winding path before her, but she could see the first step. The rest she’d make up as she went along.
“If it’s eggs you’re after, you won’t find any without me,” Val called out, almost desperately, as if searching for some way to slow Veronyka down or make her turn around.
You’re wrong, Veronyka thought, her mind locked