“That’s even stranger,” Lysandro argued. “As governor, that shipment would belong to him. Why steal it?”
“Unless the theft was just for show?” Anders mused, but Ronyn shook his head.
“I say it’s a false rumor like the attack on the Silverwood. There’s a reason they started torching the trees—they want to make it look like a Phoenix Rider attack. No doubt this merchant caravan was the same.”
When they weren’t talking about the strange Phoenix Riders in the south, they were talking about the strange Phoenix Rider in their midst. For months they’d been told they were the only Riders left after the war, and in a matter of days they’d received word of Phoenix Rider sightings in Ferro and a Phoenix Rider attack along the Iron Road, and Alexiya, a brand-new ally, had turned up.
Though they were wary of her, Alexiya was an integral part of their operation as they attempted to get things under control in the days after the attack. She took charge of the Silverwood patrols, knowing the area better than any of them, though her searches had turned up empty since her first foray back into the trees.
Tristan had barely finished reading Fallon’s letter when Alexiya returned, landing at the far edge of their camp. Veronyka had hurried over at once, Tristan following behind.
“Did you…?” Veronyka had started, but the look on Alexiya’s face made Veronyka’s heart sink.
“The forest is completely deserted—no sign of soldiers or any survivors. There are some bodies we’ll need to deal with,” she said in an aside to Tristan, who nodded gravely. “I followed tracks leading south into Arboria and west to the river—they could be in the capital by now.”
Veronyka thought often of that boat making its way into Aura Nova, loaded with innocent captives, where black market traders bought and sold dozens of animages every day. She had seen it happen.
Just like her maiora had been taken by an angry mob, so too were animage children stolen from their families on the crowded Narrows or Forgotten District streets. One time, a young boy and girl were snatched right in front of Veronyka, mere feet away, outside a stall at the market. She had tried to reach for them—to cry out for help—but Val had yanked her into an alley and pressed a hand over her mouth. Veronyka had looked imploringly at Val and her grandmother, but they only stood by silently, spectators to the horror. Veronyka had still believed, then, that goodness would always prevail.
She was wiser now, but that didn’t shake the guilt she’d felt ever since. She had stood and watched while two children screamed and cried and begged for their parents. She might not have been a fighter or a Phoenix Rider then, but surely she could have done something. And what if Veronyka, Val, and Ilithya had tried to help…? Couldn’t they have saved them?
Whether or not she’d been powerless to save those children in the Narrows, she wasn’t powerless now—and still she’d failed to protect the Silverwood villagers. Impotent anger was like a flame inside her chest, flaring up or flickering low, but never gone entirely.
Though they’d flown patrols together and slept in the same camp, it wasn’t until the day Beryk was due to arrive that Veronyka had a moment to speak alone with Alexiya.
Veronyka was eating her lunch, and Alexiya had just returned from another sweep of the Silverwood. The others were either on patrol or in the village, save for Lysandro, who was napping in his tent.
Veronyka and Alexiya walked to the edge of the clearing where they’d made camp and stood among the shade of the trees.
“Thank you,” Veronyka said before Alexiya could speak. The woman seemed surprised. “For helping us—in the fight, and with all of this. I know it’s been a long time for you.”
“Time wasn’t the problem,” Alexiya said, watching as Ximn joined the other phoenixes, eating and drinking from their shared troughs. “I was the problem. I’d forgotten why I wanted to be a Rider in the first place. Why it mattered.” She paused, staring up at the afternoon sky, and Veronyka remember what Alexiya had said about her Arborian heritage. Stargazers, every one. “It will be good for me—for us,” she said, nodding at Ximn. The phoenix had finished eating and was now chasing tufts of dandelion spores blown off their stems by a gentle summer breeze.
“So you intend to stay? For good?”
Alexiya tilted her head thoughtfully. Then she flashed a