on her shoulder and chirruping softly into her ear. Sparrow straightened. “Oh,” she said, lowering her spear and allowing it to hit the ground with a thunk.
Elliot realized she didn’t know it was him. “Expecting someone else?” he asked in amusement, and her puzzled expression cleared.
“Elliot!” she said, and he didn’t miss the delight on her face. It made his stomach twist with a strange mix of emotion, both happiness and loss. It must be something to do with Riella again—no one except her ever lit up when they saw him. “I thought it was Petyr,” she muttered. “Can’t tell talons from tails.”
Elliot chuckled, scrubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “I was hoping to catch Ersken—is he still awake?”
Sparrow snorted. “Old man never sleeps, no matter how much I tell him he needs his rest.”
Elliot grinned—he couldn’t help it. “Do you call him ‘old man’ when you do it?” he asked.
Sparrow shrugged. “What else am I gonna call him? He’s no fresh hatchling.”
“That might have something to do with it,” he said dryly, but Sparrow was already moving. As she stepped through the pools of brazier light, he caught the darting tail of a cat winding its way through the phoenixes and leading the way to Ersken’s workroom.
Inside, while Sparrow fed the cat from a bowl on Ersken’s table, Elliot asked about phoenix mental health.
“ ’Scuse me?” Ersken said, raising his bushy eyebrows.
“Ever since the attack on the Eyrie, I’ve noticed that Xane… he hasn’t been the same. And I thought it might be because of his mother. Did you…? Do you know much about Xolanthe?”
Ersken cocked his head, squinting slightly. “What do you mean?”
Elliot shrugged, watching as Sparrow went about her business—though he knew she was listening. “I thought… maybe you could tell Xane about his mother—about Xoe. What she was like.” He paused, searching for the right words. “I’m not sure he knows how to grieve for her when he hardly knew her. Maybe if he knows what she was like, if she was happy…”
Ersken’s curious expression turned wary. “I won’t lie to him. His mother was in a cage, and she died in a battle.”
“I know,” Elliot hastened to say. “But, well… I know you were fond of her. There has to be a reason for that. And even though she died fighting… she chose that, at least. And from what I hear, if it weren’t for her…”
“I doubt you and I’d be here talkin’ about her.” He huffed a breath, and his gaze flicked to the table where Sparrow stood. It was covered with an assortment of knickknacks, including a handful of vivid red phoenix feathers. One of them was tipped in brilliant, iridescent purple. Could it be Xoe’s?
Ersken’s attention shifted back to Elliot. “I’ll try.”
Together, Ersken, Elliot, and Sparrow made their way to the top of the Eyrie, where the adult phoenixes roosted.
It wasn’t hard to find Xane, alone on a ledge outside Latham’s door. Jax was nearby, sensing Elliot’s approach, but he too was alone. The other phoenixes avoided Jax just as their bondmates avoided Elliot, and that isolation was on display now as the rest of the phoenixes bunched together the same way the hatchlings did.
As they neared Xane, Ersken stuck out a hand, telling Elliot and Sparrow to hang back—though of course Sparrow didn’t see it. Elliot tugged her tunic, pulling her aside as Ersken edged warily forward.
Xane straightened, shaking out his wings, but the challenging squawk died in his throat as his eyes landed on the feather in Ersken’s outstretched hand.
Footsteps sounded, and Latham’s door was wrenched open—no doubt he could sense his bondmate’s curiosity or distress. Latham was half-dressed, tugging on his tunic as he stepped onto the walkway.
“What do you think—” he started. He too stopped when his eyes fell on the phoenix feather. Latham’s scowling expression shifted, landing on Ersken. Then he turned and spotted Elliot and Sparrow standing on the other side of the doorway.
Ersken indicated that Elliot should deal with Latham, then turned his attention back to Xane, taking a seat next to the phoenix and laying the feather between them.
“What is he…?” Latham began, and Elliot drew his attention.
“That was Xoe’s,” Elliot said softly, so as not to disturb Ersken and Xane. As it was, all he could hear was the low rumble of Ersken’s voice, while Xane blinked at him, bright and curious.
Latham turned on him, his expression accusatory.
“I thought… I asked Ersken if he’d bring it to Xane,” Elliot continued. It