exhausting, but she thought—or maybe hoped—that she was beginning to get the hang of it.
As they made their way to the phoenix plinth to saddle their bondmates and head out, Veronyka remembered how close Vayle was to the cabin she’d shared with Val. Was there any chance Val was still living there…? She wrenched her mind away from thoughts of her once-sister. The temptation to think about Val was like the flickering, dancing allure of an open flame: enticing, mesmerizing—and likely to leave her burned.
Maybe Veronyka needed a concrete way of releasing Val…. She glanced down at her braided bracelet, thinking. How was she supposed to forget Val entirely when she wore a reminder—the red lock of hair and golden signet ring—on her wrist every single day? A visit to the cabin might be the perfect way to say goodbye. To leave Val and the objects that represented her behind. Maybe then she’d be able to let go of thoughts of her own mysterious identity and the sister who wasn’t a sister at all. She’d get some closure, and then she’d be able to move forward.
As Veronyka and Tristan saddled their mounts, the other Riders in Tristan’s patrol slowly turned up, greeting them with exhausted stretches and wide yawns.
Besides Tristan there was Ronyn, a no-nonsense local with a heavy brow and thick, muscled arms; Anders, a joker from Arboria with curling brown hair and large ears; Latham, the gossip who was often by Anders’s side, his pale golden hair shining in the morning sun; and finally Lysandro, who was Ferronese and a distant cousin of Tristan’s. Apparently Tristan and his father had been living with Lysandro’s family in the Foothills for years before making the Eyrie their home and base of operations. While Anders beamed and Ronyn nodded politely at her, the others seemed surprised by her presence. Latham scowled.
“Since we are a Rider short of a full patrol, Commander Cassian allowed me to bring along an apprentice, so I chose my underwing, Veronyka,” Tristan said, speaking in his authoritative voice. No one made any comment or objection, so he continued. “We’re going to fly a southeastern route, staying clear of the river and the road, and land in the tree cover just north of Malka’s ruined outpost. We’ll make camp there and come at Vayle on foot. They’re expecting us, but we don’t want to announce our presence armed and on phoenix-back. We might be their allies, but I doubt we’ll receive the warmest welcome.”
“It’s gotta be better than at Petratec,” Anders muttered, shaking his head. “I flew extra supplies out, and I thought they were gonna shoot me down from the sky.”
“They’re trying to protect themselves,” said Ronyn, whose family was from Petratec. “I cannot blame them.”
“I can,” Anders said indignantly, adjusting a wrist guard. “Or I would have, if they’d filled me full of holes.”
Ronyn rolled his eyes and cuffed Anders across the back of his head. Anders grinned.
“Harder next time,” Latham said through a yawn, and Anders shoved him.
Tristan let them get their jokes in before bringing the conversation back to the issue at hand. “We’ll fly in a standard trivol—a three-Rider arrowhead pattern,” he added to Veronyka, who hadn’t yet learned all the flight combinations. “I’ll take first lead with Veronyka and Lysandro.”
Veronyka was pleased to be flying with Tristan, and Lysandro too seemed excited to fly next to the patrol leader. Lysandro was a year younger than Veronyka, and though Tristan didn’t seem to notice, it was clear he idolized his older cousin. He constantly looked to Tristan for cues on how to act or behave, and he took heart from Tristan’s smallest gestures of approval and affection. Flying next to Tristan in a trivol meant he was flying in a position usually held by a second-in-command.
It meant Veronyka was as well.
“Ronyn,” Tristan continued, “you’ll run point with Anders and Latham.”
Everyone nodded, returning to their phoenixes for a last check of fastenings and straps. The sky was a pearly shade of pink toward the east, the stars and shadows chased away by Axura’s coming dawn. There was a feeling in the air, a crackle of energy and anticipation.
Veronyka hopped into the saddle, Tristan on Rex in front of her and Lysandro just beside.
Once everyone was mounted up, Tristan leapt, disappearing over the edge of the plinth before soaring back up into the sky. Lysandro followed, and then Veronyka. Her stomach swooped with the drop, only to tingle with adrenaline as they shot back up