through—Veronyka had quickly shot them down—and more were following behind.
Val and Sidra were busy with a cluster of soldiers trying to flee to the north when Veronyka spotted another group of soldiers arriving from the east. They were far too small to be reinforcements, but they could be advance scouts.
With a stolen spear in hand, Veronyka urged Xephyra toward them. Her heart was pounding, her blood singing in her veins. If they were scouts, she’d make sure no word reached their main force.
She’d make sure nothing did.
The darkness was growing around them, and Veronyka had to break her mirroring with Xephyra in order to properly aim and use her weapons. Her range with a spear was nothing like her bow, so they had to get close for her to take the shot.
Her arm was cocked back, her teeth gritted, when the figure at the head of the column came into view.
Veronyka’s arm locked up.
Xephyra’s flames lit his face in shades of orange and gold—and his face was familiar.
Sev?
“Xephyra!” Veronyka cried out, realizing that even without her spear, her phoenix was on a collision course.
Lost in the heat of battle, it took Xephyra a moment to notice Veronyka’s recognition and panic. She veered just in time, the group before them ducking and cowering as she whipped past, then threw out her wings and brought them to a sudden, shaky halt.
Veronyka took in the scene before her: There were a handful of soldiers, weapons drawn, and they seemed to be escorting a wagon. Veronyka spotted people inside—additional animage captives?
Sev stared at her, the panic on his face telling her that he was undercover here, and how she behaved would dictate what happened next. But she also didn’t know who might be his friends or allies among the other soldiers.
Veronyka considered, then shifted her grip on the spear in her hand and swung it wide, clubbing the nearest soldier upside the head.
Chaos erupted after that—Sev leapt on the soldier next to him, knocking him to the ground, while several of the captives poured out from the back of the wagon, quickly ending the fight. Veronyka dismounted, standing before Sev, another boy who looked familiar—though she couldn’t think from where—and a dozen animage captives.
The sight of Sev had snapped Veronyka out of her battle fever. She saw what he saw—a field of blood and bodies, people screaming and tents smoking, and in the distance, Phoenix Riders raining fire.
“Let’s go,” Veronyka said, blinking wildly as she tried to regain her composure. “I already freed the others. I sent them into the Foothills and told them to go northeast. There’s an outpost. I’ll find you again, but if I don’t, stay the course and one of the other Riders will find you.”
Sev opened his mouth, but Veronyka didn’t give him time to respond. Coldness was spreading through her chest, its icy tendrils making their way through Veronyka’s body.
Something was wrong—this was wrong. They had done what they’d come to do. They had freed the animages. It was one thing to defend their escape and guard them from pursuit, but what they were doing now…
Veronyka mounted up, and as Xephyra took to the sky, she sought out Val. The battle was mostly won by now. Sidra was swooping around the perimeter, rounding up the soldiers who were trying to flee, but Val was on the ground in the middle of a group of them.
Veronyka thought that her phoenix must have been netted again—until she saw that the soldiers were on their knees, weaponless, pleading for their lives.
Pleading for mercy.
Faster, Xephyra, Veronyka thought desperately, but in her heart she knew she was too late.
Avalkyra Ashfire did not show mercy.
Veronyka’s stomach clenched painfully—with regret for what she had done and with fear for what she had unleashed.
What will be left, when all this is through?
What will survive of our precious legacy?
Our ancient bloodline?
- CHAPTER 40 - AVALKYRA
AS SIDRA MIGHT HAVE put it, the soldiers were decent sport.
It was certainly more satisfying than merchant caravans, and there was comfort in striking a blow not just to the empire in general, but to Rolan in particular.
Even with one’s allies, it was good to maintain a position of power. To exert control. This attack wasn’t just a means to gain Veronyka to her side…. It was a show of force.
And what a show it was. Avalkyra had known they would fly well together—had expected it, even imagined it from time to time. But this? Veronyka made her Ashfire foremothers proud. Her flying