Rider was a family legacy—something I inherited, much like my title and my lands.” Veronyka was thrown by the turn the conversation had taken, but she tried to follow along. “For years I served, and our mission was clear: to guard the empire and protect its people. But,” he said with a sigh, “the Blood War saw our duty muddled beyond recognition. I lived to see the Phoenix Riders change from a government-sanctioned military order to a rebellion, to something akin to a private army. Under Avalkyra Ashfire, we served her purpose—her ambitions and her goals—and no one else’s. With her death, those of us who survived struggled to find our place in this new world order. I have since recognized that our mission, our purpose, cannot be to one person, one country, or even one province; it must be to all people, but especially to our fellow animages. We are united—not by political boundaries or cultural histories—but by magic. We are everywhere, and yet we have nowhere. We have no safe place, no home to call ours. I seek to rectify that. Azurec’s Eyrie is a start.”
Veronyka’s heart swelled with his words. He was right. The Phoenix Riders that had served the empire for almost two hundred years were no more, and they had to come together for a new purpose.
“That being said,” the commander continued, “we are a small operation at the moment, and I have to be prudent. We must build our strength slowly, cautiously. In the beginning it was just myself and Beryk—we’d flown together in the war, and I knew where he’d gone into hiding in the aftermath. It took us years to find Fallon, a young Rider who’d yet to see any action, and we stumbled upon him mostly by chance. Surely there are others, Phoenix Riders in hiding all over the empire and beyond, but we cannot go searching blindly for them and risk drawing attention to ourselves or to them. It wouldn’t do for the empire to learn that Riders are mustering on Pyrmont. The empire may have little interest in reclaiming Pyra, but it would have great interest in destroying us.”
“But I didn’t—I would never . . . ,” Veronyka began, confused. She’d thought they’d determined she wasn’t a threat.
He waved her off. “What I mean to say is that recruiting has been difficult for us. While there are many with the gift of animal magic, there are few with the gold to fund their training. Raising, housing, and feeding phoenixes costs money, Nyk—my money—not to mention the price of a horse, fireproof saddle and tack, armor, and weapons. I have to feed guards and servants, pay wages, build and make repairs, and my coffers are not what they once were.” He lifted the dagger from the middle of the table, turning it over in his hands before giving it back to her. “Phoenixes are too rare and precious for us to have poor peasant lads bonding with them, who are then unable to afford the cost of proper training. I’m sorry.”
Helplessness seized Veronyka as she gripped the hilt of the dagger. Suddenly Phoenix Riding was only for the rich? The First Riders didn’t have coffers filled with gold; they had phoenixes, the only wealth a person ever needed.
She swallowed a number of angry replies and fought to keep her voice steady. “There must be other ways, means of earning a place . . .”
“There are,” the commander conceded. “When we recruit, the current Riders have the option of sponsoring one of the new applicants. Several of our current apprentices are being sponsored by Master Riders. They’re called underwings.”
“So, when you recruit again, I could apply as long as I found a sponsor?” Veronyka asked, a flicker of hope sparking to life inside her.
The commander looked uncomfortable. “Sponsorships are difficult to come by, Nyk. Those who can afford to take on an underwing are likely to pick friends and family—not a stranger.”
“But I could still try,” Veronyka pressed stubbornly.
“Indeed you could,” he said, his voice resigned, “but I don’t have plans for recruitment anytime in the near future, and we can’t afford to board you here while you wait.”
“There must be other ways I can earn my keep and help the Riders in the meantime,” she said desperately, leaning forward. “I could cook, clean, be a servant—maybe work in the stables?”
The commander pursed his lips. Then his expression cleared, and he bowed his head. “I’m sure our stable mistress, Jana, would