couldn’t have gotten into the Silverwood without crossing at Runnet or Vayle, and both locations were far too populated to make their attacks secret.
With a shadow magic nudge from Avalkyra, Sidra pressed the man who’d been relaying the information. He was red-faced and well into his cups, making his mind the kind of place Avalkyra would rather not venture into.
“What happened to the Riders?” Sidra asked him, gripping the front of his tunic to pull him closer. Avalkyra admired her bravery—she could smell his breath from across the table. “Did they chase the soldiers back into the empire? Did they return to the Eyrie?”
The man’s eyes bugged slightly, and he seemed to be enjoying himself less than he had been a few minutes ago, when two young women so desperately craved his company that they bought him a pitcher of ale and invited him to their dark corner of the cookhouse.
“Oh, well, the commandant—”
“The commander,” Sidra corrected, but Avalkyra shoved her shoulder and waved him on.
“Yes—him, the—their leader,” the man amended, darting a nervous glance down at Sidra’s fist, which was still clutching his tunic, before continuing. “He sent in reinforcements. Apparently it was only the youngsters in Vayle—the new Rider recruits—and so they were sent off north with the survivors. Not everyone made it, mind, and people have gone missing—Miseriya keep them,” he murmured gravely, before adding, “The old guard swooped in to set up some kind of watch or patrol or what have you.”
Avalkyra leapt to her feet, barely hearing his last words. “Come, Sidra,” she announced, and Sidra obeyed at once, releasing the man and following Avalkyra out into the twilit streets. Their phoenixes were hidden outside the town limits—something Avalkyra risked only because Sidra’s mount was there to keep her own phoenix from fleeing or giving their presence away.
“To Arboria so soon?” Sidra asked as they climbed a sloping hill into a copse of trees.
They were due to attack a country estate in some Arborian backwater, dispersing their assaults to give the impression of larger numbers and a stronger force. It would be as unsatisfying as the Iron Road attack, but Avalkyra had agreed to it. Knowing what she did now about Rolan’s apparent allies in Arboria, Avalkyra wondered if they were meant to encourage loyalty from new allies or ensure the loyalty of existing ones—but it didn’t matter.
She had no intention of going to Arboria herself.
“Change of plans,” Avalkyra said. They’d arrived at the clearing where they’d hidden their phoenixes, and after a soft whistle from Sidra—and a firm jerk on the bind from Avalkyra—both creatures fluttered forward. “Think you can handle that Arborian estate on your own? Surely that will even the odds and make it more of a challenge for you?”
Sidra’s lip curled up in the corner. “Yes, my queen,” she said with obvious pleasure. “Where will you go?” Sidra asked, checking the saddles on both phoenixes and attaching their newly replenished supplies from Runnet.
“Commander Cassian is having his Riders escort the refugees north,” Avalkyra said, beginning to pace. “He’ll have to set up some temporary housing far enough from the border to be out of danger. What’s the closest, safest place to take them?”
Sidra considered as she tightened a strap. “Montascent is too far and Petratec is too small—they’d have nowhere to put them.” Avalkyra nodded. “Rushlea’s the only option.”
“Yes, and Veronyka will be there with them. I’ll filter in with the other refugees—more will be heading there every day—and orchestrate a way to get her alone. Then I’ll tell her about the captives.”
Veronyka would have already heard the rumors by now—even beyond those who went missing from the Silverwood attack. It was the thing she’d suggested to Lord Rolan during their meeting, an idea that had not yet occurred to him.
Animages—particularly children—went missing all the time during raids. Even without direct orders, Rolan’s soldiers would have been rounding them up to sell or trade. There was many a corrupt businessman who would gladly purchase an animage servant without proper paperwork or indentures. It would cost him half what it would to go through the proper channels. But Avalkyra had suggested he give the order to march them all to a single location—somewhere near the border, where they could be properly defended by Rolan’s troops—and where he could use them to draw the Phoenix Riders out.
“You want to use them as bait,” Rolan had said, leaning forward with a glitter of interest in his eye. “You think the Riders will come?”
Avalkyra had