Val hesitated, glancing at Tristan, who scowled as he loomed in the doorway, then back at Veronyka. If she wanted another fight, this was one she wouldn’t win. “You know where to find me,” she said, tapping her temple once, softly, before slipping out the window and disappearing into the darkness.
But I am glad we had each other, my sister
and me. Even at the very end, I was glad.
- CHAPTER 10 - TRISTAN
“WAS… WAS THAT YOUR SISTER?” Tristan asked, still shocked by the scene he’d inadvertently stepped into. He knew it was Val—Tristan didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget her—but his mind had gone blank, and he didn’t know what else to say.
Veronyka was dirty and disheveled, her hair wild, and bloody tracks like fingernail gouges trailed along her arms and hands.
She didn’t answer. Instead she walked over and picked up a box from where it had landed mere feet in front of him. It looked to be made from wood and coated in some kind of shining lacquer, the surface plain and unmarked. She clutched it to her chest, and the contents rattled and shifted inside. Her face was oddly expressionless, her eyes wide and dark but distant.
“Are you okay?” Tristan pressed, seeing more scratches and scrapes and the torn edge of her tunic. They’d been fighting when he’d arrived, though he only saw Val releasing her grip on Veronyka’s hair.
“I’m—yes,” she said, her voice shaky.
“What—” Tristan began, but he was cut off when something barreled into his back, causing him to stumble forward.
Xephyra was behind him in the doorway, too large to fit through the narrow frame but frantic to get to her bondmate.
Tristan moved out of the way, giving room for Veronyka to step outside.
Xephyra backed up, but only enough to allow Veronyka through. She crooned low in her throat, and Veronyka buried her face into her bondmate’s neck. That told Tristan more than anything else how rattled Veronyka was, despite her lack of tears or outward fear.
He suffered a strange pang of jealousy as he watched them. He couldn’t begrudge Veronyka the comfort of her bondmate, but he longed to be the one she turned to—the one who made things all right for her.
Rex was visible just behind Veronyka and Xephyra, a spectator to this quiet moment, the same as Tristan. Rex nudged his mind, making sure Tristan was okay, and he nodded, coming outside to join them.
At last Veronyka and Xephyra separated, though Veronyka kept a hand on her phoenix’s neck.
Xephyra straightened, swiveling her head from side to side—as if seeking something—before shaking out her feathers with a squawk.
“I know,” Veronyka said apologetically, smiling up at her bondmate. “But it’s not like you could fit through the door.”
Tristan frowned, knowing Veronyka was speaking aloud to include him—to make it okay for him to speak too.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, coming to stand before her. Rex sidled up to him, his presence a wordless comfort. “Both of you?” he pressed, looking up at Xephyra. She cocked her head.
“Yes,” Veronyka said, more firmly this time. “It’s just that… this is where it happened. Where Val…” She trailed off, and both Veronyka and Xephyra seemed to lean into each other unconsciously.
Tristan looked back in through the open door of the cabin, though he wasn’t really seeing it. All he could see was red. Of course this was where it had happened. This was where they’d been living before Veronyka ran away. She had told him how Val poisoned her bondmate, determined that they should raise their phoenixes together—or not at all. The story haunted him, so much so that he was ashamed to admit he’d tried to forget it. But Veronyka couldn’t. And she’d come here anyway, willing to face it with a strength and fearlessness Tristan could only dream of.
An ache in his palms told Tristan he was clenching his hands into fists so tightly he was in danger of drawing blood. He released his grip with difficulty and swallowed back a number of angry, useless comments. I hate your sister. I hate that she did that to you.
“It’s okay,” Veronyka said softly, and Tristan refocused his attention on her. She was looking at him with empathy, consoling him, and it occurred to him to wonder what other awful things Veronyka had had to endure in her life at Val’s hands—and how she could have come out the way she had: kind, compassionate, and full of brilliant light.
“It’s not okay,” Tristan said, his throat tight.
“No,” Veronyka agreed with a sigh, casting a sidelong glance up at Xephyra, whose head had dipped slightly. “But we’re stronger now—stronger because of her.”
Tristan couldn’t argue with that. He reached out to put a hand on Veronyka’s shoulder, and to his surprise, Rex extended his neck to nudge his head against Xephyra at the exact same time. It was a comforting gesture, one he’d seen the phoenixes give each other occasionally, but it still surprised him the way their actions mirrored one another.
He thought suddenly of mated pairs, and heat swept his face, but luckily Veronyka wasn’t looking at him. Rex was butting Xephyra so hard that she bumped into Veronyka, and when Xephyra squawked and snapped playfully at Rex, Veronyka laughed.
The tension lightened somewhat, Veronyka glanced down at the box in her hand, as if only just remembering she had it.
“Is that why you wanted to come back? For that?”
Veronyka shook her head. “I didn’t even know it was here.”
“What’s in it?” Tristan asked, though he got the impression it was a loaded question.
“I don’t know,” Veronyka said thoughtfully. Then her face hardened. “But if Val wanted it, there must be something important.”
Tristan didn’t know what to say to that. There was so much between Veronyka and Val that he didn’t understand, and he knew, somehow, that he shouldn’t ask about. It was clear that Veronyka was still sorting out her own feelings on the matter, even though Val had killed Xephyra here, in this very building. The fact of the matter was, Veronyka loved Val, and there was something wonderful about the fierceness of it—that she could love Val, even after everything she’d done.
“So what news from the travelers?” Veronyka asked, putting the box into Xephyra’s saddlebag—or trying to, as Rex and Xephyra were nipping and jostling and making it difficult for her. Tristan leaned over to help, holding the bag steady so Veronyka could rearrange a few items to fit the box inside.
Tristan’s hand dropped. He’d forgotten. “We need to get back to the Eyrie immediately.”
“What, why? What happened?” she asked, turning around and leaving the box hanging halfway out of the bag.
“Empire soldiers have been spotted along the border.”
* * *
As they prepared to fly back to camp, Tristan filled Veronyka in on all he’d heard from the travelers. It had been a family of Pyraean tinkers who had a connection to the Office for Border Control that allowed them to travel in and out of the empire, visiting Runnet and Vayle along with some of the smaller communities scattered between them—before returning again. This time while passing through Runnet they’d heard some rumors of groups of soldiers collecting along the border in the west, near Ferro.