went in search of the prisoners. It was easy enough to get himself signed up for escort duty—even if he was cutting it a bit close. But getting Kade involved was another matter entirely. Even if he could steal more armor and pass as a soldier, there was the problem of his wound. It might not be life threatening, but even a relatively slow walk alongside a wagon filled with prisoners would be a difficult task for him, especially barely a day after he’d been cut down.
Luckily, the arrival of new prisoners added the perfect amount of chaos into the mix. While their own camp’s prisoners were already loaded into a wagon the soldiers had stolen from the farmers, the arriving animage hostages were currently being appraised by the healer. Though the soldiers huffed and complained about the lost time, they were also determined to do nothing to help her, so they sat off together eating and paying the examinations little attention. With bandaged animages mixed in with their own, plus a lack of organization, it was surprisingly easy for Sev to slip Kade out of the healer’s tent and into the back of the wagon with the other animages. Sev had laced him into a tunic as loosely as possible and wrapped a bandage around his neck to ensure his bondage pendant wasn’t seen. With a last squeeze of Kade’s hand, Sev released the flap on the wagon and took up his position with the rest of the reluctant escort.
They were out of camp as the afternoon sun beat down on them, cutting a direct path across the rolling countryside toward the soldiers—and prison camp—on the border of Ferro.
These are the costs of war:
a thousand shattering moments of pain
and loss and a lifetime of regret.
- CHAPTER 39 - VERONYKA
WHEN A PHOENIX RIDER wanted to approach unseen, she flew under cover of darkness. Quiet as a shadow—soft as starlight.
But when a Phoenix Rider wanted to wage war, she flew under the sun. Brilliant orange rays swept across the landscape below, while above, concealed within that shining golden light, soared three phoenixes on fire.
Their approach was simple. Sidra and Val went in first, Sidra to the north and Val circling around to the south. Once they were in position, Sidra and Val dove. As soon as they reached the perimeter guards’ sight lines, shouts went up.
Veronyka watched intently from a safe distance, mirroring with Xephyra so she could see what was happening below. Somewhere a horn sounded; the chase was on.
The soldiers hastily assembled units to pursue—in both directions. The camp was too vast for them to notice their mistake, and besides, they were too eager to catch a lone Phoenix Rider to pause to consider that it might be a diversion.
Though Veronyka monitored Val’s and Sidra’s maneuvers, her real focus never left the captives. They were shut away inside their tents and surrounded by guards, but with the ranks between Veronyka and her goal steadily thinning out, it was time to make her move.
Veronyka withdrew her bow, nocked an arrow, and dove.
Her breath caught as she plummeted, as if the sudden descent had lodged her heart in her throat. With every pump of Xephyra’s wings, the guards in front of the prisoner tents became clearer, their relaxed postures, their calm faces… their eyes.
Veronyka’s palms grew slick. What was she doing?
The right thing, her mind answered. The only thing. Otherwise dozens of innocents would pay. And these soldiers weren’t innocent, even if they were unprepared. Even if they were just talking and laughing and eating their dinner.
Veronyka watched them, numb, as one by one they spotted her. The illusion of peace shattered in an instant. They leapt to their feet, scrambling for weapons, stumbling backward… but it was too late. She had the drop on them. All she had to do was let go.
Let go.
At the last second Veronyka’s hands clenched around her bow, and Xephyra swerved wide.
Shouts went up as they soared back around, Veronyka’s brain whirling and tumbling out of control.
She’d hesitated. She’d hesitated and lost the element of surprise. But what else might she have lost if she’d continued?
By the time Veronyka and Xephyra were in range again, the soldiers had raised crossbows and spears, ready for the fight—and Veronyka was secretly glad. This she could handle. This she could justify.
When her gaze landed on a soldier near the mouth of the nearest tent, who held an animage girl on her knees by her hair, a knife to