Now that she was on the animal, Veronyka realized how truly enormous the phoenix was. There was no way Val had hatched this creature within the past few weeks—or months, for that matter. This phoenix was much older than that.
Was this Nyx, Val’s bondmate from before the war? Had she survived after all? But if it was, their bond would have survived too, and Val could have tracked her down wherever she’d wound up. Veronyka couldn’t believe Val would have remained phoenix-less for sixteen years if she’d had a bondmate somewhere in the world.
But what about a bindmate? Veronyka had already considered the idea when she’d asked Val about her phoenix in the tower. After all her disparaging claims about love and weakness, Veronyka had begun to wonder if there wasn’t another way to take hold of a phoenix and bend it to your will. She’d long suspected Val didn’t have the ability to bond again, but a bind, on the other hand…
A bond was forever—sometimes even after death, like with Veronyka and Xephyra—but a bind was one-sided and didn’t require love or affection or loyalty. Judging by how easily Veronyka had tampered with Sidra’s mind that morning, binds were impermanent and unstable, and could therefore be blocked and weakened.
Maybe even broken.
Val’s magic continued to emanate from her in steady, powerful waves. She was exerting an inordinate amount of magical pressure to keep the phoenix under control, but a sudden jostle dislodged Val’s tight hold on Veronyka’s arm, and Val was forced to divert her attention to keep both of them in the saddle.
Veronyka took the opportunity to turn her focus to the phoenix.
The poor creature’s magical barriers were not entirely sound; generally, phoenix minds were strongly defended and impossible to intrude upon without invitation.
This phoenix was trying to reclaim its mental fortitude, but gaps and glimpses kept appearing before Veronyka’s magical eyes. Rather than force her way into one of those cracks, Veronyka seized upon a flickering opening and reached out to the phoenix instead.
I think I can help you, if you’ll let me. I think I can get her out.
Veronyka glanced down at the ground below, the trees and buildings rapidly fading into a shockingly distant blur. If she did break Val’s hold, what would happen to them?
The phoenix screeched, banking hard and causing Val to curse and struggle to regain her hold.
Out, the phoenix echoed, her voice booming in Veronyka’s mind. She thought Val heard it too, because she shot a look back at Veronyka. Out, out, out.
Can you land? Veronyka asked desperately, though the small opening in the phoenix’s mental walls was already shifting and disappearing.
Val pushed harder, her magic flowing outward, but after Veronyka’s intrusion, the phoenix had started resisting.
The phoenix shook herself suddenly, then twisted in the air and spun, as if she were trying to buck them from her back.
Val pressed herself flush to the saddle—determined to ride whether this firebird wanted it or not—but Veronyka was slipping. She was practically upside down now, dangling helplessly and sliding farther with every burst of wind and jostle of the phoenix’s wings.
After a particularly violent gust, Veronyka’s leg came loose. She tried desperately to bend forward, to grab hold of something, but the force of the slipstream was too much.
Val cursed, releasing her own hold and reaching back for Veronyka. She grasped the flimsy Stellan dress, tearing it as she pulled. She reached again, this time grabbing a fistful of the fabric—along with the chain of Pheronia’s necklace.
“No!” Veronyka cried, but too late—the delicate golden links snapped as the phoenix bucked again, but the momentum actually worked in Veronyka’s favor, causing a break in the winds that allowed her body to fold forward. She pressed a hand to her chest, clutching the broken necklace against her skin. It slipped down, between her fingers, and became snagged within the layers of sheer fabric. It would have to do for now.
Val pulled Veronyka’s body upright, and Veronyka gripped Val’s arm in return, relief sweeping through her.
But that shred of safety was short-lived.
Just as she began to climb up the phoenix’s body, clinging to Val’s hand while her other sought a piece of the saddle, Val’s eyes went wide. She slipped too, her leg—which had been twisted around a strap—dislodged as Veronyka’s extra weight pulled at her.
The phoenix spun again, slamming them both hard against the saddle, temporarily breaking Val’s hold on Veronyka. Again Val reached, determinedly, doggedly, and regained her grip. Veronyka couldn’t help but