“Oh,” Veronyka muttered as they sent their phoenixes to the sky and prepared to follow on foot.
She couldn’t decide if it was meant as a compliment or an insult.
Alexiya melted into the forest, soundless, invisible as she darted between the thick, towering trunks. Veronyka and Tristan struggled to keep up, tripping over undergrowth and tangled, gnarled roots.
It was intensely silent among the ranks of the Silverwood, as if even the animals didn’t dare to dwell here anymore. It had once been home to several smaller villages, but they had been abandoned. Just as the tall, dark trees concealed their own careful treads, so too did they conceal the footsteps of empire soldiers. The Silverwood became an alternate route into Pyra during the Blood War. It was traversed by countless regiments of empire soldiers in search of Avalkyra Ashfire’s base, and any locals who didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire were forced to flee.
Veronyka could feel the emptiness of this place—haunted by war—and it made a shiver slip down her spine. Above, Xephyra and Rex flew close to the canopy, though the gathering dark of night likely concealed their flight regardless.
Ahead, Alexiya stopped in front of a massive, towering trunk. She was nothing more than a shifting shadow in the dense darkness of the forest, but the barest light sparked and glimmered off the obsidian in her hair. To Veronyka’s confusion, she began to climb. As Veronyka stepped up behind her, a ladder materialized out of the shadows, carved into the living wood. Craning her neck, Veronyka looked up, but she couldn’t discern anything in the gloom.
She began to climb, Tristan behind her, and the higher they went, the more of the twilight crept in—or perhaps Veronyka’s eyes were finally adjusting—slowly revealing planks of smooth, planed wood overhead. Veronyka climbed through a square opening in the boards, up into a world of frosted moonlight. They were near the tops of the trees, still protected by their thick foliage but able to see wide vistas on either side. To the west, the sky bled from magenta to violet, while to the east, inky darkness spread like a stain, obliterating all but the stars.
When Veronyka drew her gaze lower, a gasp escaped her lips. Despite the coming night, the last breath of the sun revealed a series of rope bridges extending from where they stood, like the Fingers from the Godshand in the valley. She was standing on a platform, closed in on all sides by a wooden railing, while the swaying footpaths connected five, six—ten wooden houses, built into the trees.
Veronyka had heard tell of such places in Arboria North, where the trees were twice the size of those that surrounded them, but she’d had no idea they’d made it into Pyra.
Tristan stood next to her, his face lit with the same wonder.
Despite the houses appearing intact, not a single lantern flicker or titter of sound reached them. It appeared that, just as Veronyka had heard, these villages were abandoned.
“This way,” said Alexiya, standing near the corner of the railing and making them jump. The platform was like the central hub for the rest of the paths, wrapping around the tree they’d climbed. Alexiya led them across one of the narrower bridges, and Veronyka traversed the swinging, swaying ropes with mild trepidation. There were waist-high handrails—which Alexiya completely ignored—while underfoot, short wooden planks were tied tightly together. Many were missing, and the failing light meant that Veronyka felt her way more than saw it.
By the time they reached the other end, Veronyka sensed, then saw, Xephyra and Rex circling in the wide-open space above. Alexiya, meanwhile, was standing within the doorway of a small house, so overgrown with leaves and vines that it was nearly invisible.
Before Tristan and Veronyka could step from the shaking bridge, however, a squawking, flapping shadow separated itself from the darkness above Alexiya’s house.
The phoenix landed on the bridge directly before Veronyka, wings wide, causing her to stagger back into Tristan. Sparks puffed into the air, while the bird flapped frantically, as if seeking purchase on the rippling, wobbling bridge.
Above, Xephyra sensed Veronyka’s alarm and screeched, preparing to dive, while Alexiya stepped forward and shoved exasperatedly at the phoenix’s neck.
“Down, you ridiculous creature,” she said, and the phoenix—a female called Ximn, Veronyka recalled from the exiled Rider list—allowed herself to be pushed from the bridge, falling for a moment only to extend her wings and loop back around in