- CHAPTER 6 -
VERONYKA
VAL HELD THE KNIFE in a steady hand, a savage smile on her lips and murder in her eyes.
With her long red hair blowing in the breeze, she looked like a deathmaiden, one of Nox’s guides into the dark realms, and this poor soldier had been ensnared like a lost soul on a battlefield.
“Val, no—wait!” Veronyka shouted, her hand outstretched. “Stop.”
Val stayed her hand, though she didn’t remove the blade. She breathed deeply, and the boy shuddered. “He smells of the empire.”
“He saved my life!” Veronyka blurted, stepping closer again. The gravity of the situation hit home when she realized that Xephyra was still about, somewhere in the trees. If Val was mad now, she’d be a raging volcano if she knew Veronyka’s phoenix was out in the open . . . if she knew that this soldier—and that bondservant—had seen the phoenix.
If Val used her shadow magic to interrogate this soldier, she would learn the full truth, and he wouldn’t make it out of here alive. Even though he was an empire soldier, Veronyka didn’t want to see him die because of her.
She had to keep her sister distracted.
“He was here with three others,” Veronyka said, speaking fast, playing her advantage. Val was probably exhausted after a long day in the village, overusing her magic and pushing herself to her limits. If Veronyka stuck mostly to the truth and made sure to hide incriminating details deep down in the corners of her mind, Val might just take her words at face value. Veronyka was capable of lying to her sister if she worked hard at it, but it required intense focus. Val usually found her out eventually, but if she kept her wits about her, she could save this boy’s life.
“They were armed and came here looking to steal from us,” Veronyka continued. “He helped me hide in the bushes and didn’t give me up to the others. He saved my life,” she said again.
Val considered. “He also robbed us.”
“You know there’s not a damn thing worth stealing,” Veronyka said, using the other soldier’s words. The boy darted a glance in her direction, but Veronyka kept her focus on Val.
She considered the boy. “I can sense the coward in you,” Val murmured, her body shifting, her movements liquid as she moved the edge of the blade along his neck, almost like a caress. The boy’s throat bobbed in a tense swallow, and the tip of the knife bit into his skin. “She’s a sweet young thing,” she said, eyes flicking to Veronyka. “All alone in the forest, where no one could hear her scream . . .”
Veronyka almost groaned, realizing that her words had somehow become twisted in Val’s dark mind. She was inventing trouble now, looking for any excuse to hurt this soldier.
“Val, the others,” Veronyka said hastily. “They’re waiting for him. If you kill him, they’ll come looking—who knows how many. They’ll come back, and you can’t fight them all.”
“I can try,” Val said. But Veronyka saw a frown crease her forehead, and her face lost some of the fierce intensity that had come over it.
“He didn’t hurt me, never even touched me. He means us no harm—do you?” Veronyka asked, turning her question to the boy.
He was wild-eyed and panicked, and his olive-brown skin had lost its color like painted shutters in the sun. When Val loosened her grip, he slowly shook his head.
She looked bored all of a sudden, as if the joy had gone from the day. She removed the knife and gave the soldier a hard shove in the back. He stumbled and turned around, rubbing a hand across his neck, smearing blood from the small wound Val had opened there.
Smiling her most beautiful, most terrifying smile, Val raised the dagger and pointed it at him. “If I see you again, empire rat, there won’t be words between us. Only this knife. And just like this time, you won’t see it coming. Not even a sweet story from my sister will save you. That’s a promise.”
The boy bowed slightly as he nodded his head, then stumbled, looking around for the crossbow his companion had abandoned. He held it out, showing his finger was far from the trigger, before backing into the trees. His footfalls were heavy, uneven things, as if he tried to run forward and look backward at the same time.
After several tense moments, the forest became quiet again.
Val slid the boy’s knife into her belt.
The cabin looked much the same as they’d left it, except that their box of food stores was open, their sleeping pallet turned over, and their ceramic cooking pot was laying on its side, a crack running from the rim to the chipped handle. The soldiers were right: There was nothing of value here.
Val began storing the supplies she’d gotten from her day in Runnet. The village was a few hours south at the edge of the Foothills, a popular stop for valley traders. Veronyka stood in the doorway, her basket of garlic and potatoes in hand, uncertain of what would happen next. The events of the afternoon were finally catching up to her, and her hands shook. The rapid succession of emotions—shock, fear, panic—had now receded, leaving her body an empty, quaking shell, and she had the horrible feeling that the worst of it was yet to come.
Surely Val was angry—surely she had something to say, some reprimand or warning. But her sister only poked at the smoking embers of the fire, placing several pieces of wood on top from the basket near the hearth, and then settled the chipped pot on the edge.
“Close the door, Veronyka,” she said without looking her sister’s way. The words were simple, direct—and yet the hairs on the back of Veronyka’s neck rose.
She took her time, mentally calling Xephyra in from outside, hoping that Val’s preoccupation would allow her bondmate to return without notice. As Xephyra flew through the door, some of the anxiety that filled Veronyka’s chest eased. Her sense of safety had been shattered, but as long as she and her bondmate were together, everything would be all right.
Veronyka closed the door behind her as Xephyra fluttered to the ground, poking her curious beak into the contents of their food stores before flitting off again.
Val watched the phoenix, expression unreadable. Then she drew the soldier’s knife from her belt and held it out to Veronyka.
Veronyka frowned, uncertain. Then Val nodded down at the basket of vegetables she’d gathered.
“Careful,” Val said when Veronyka wrapped her fingers around the hilt. “It’s sharp.”
Veronyka didn’t know if it was the lasting tension from the confrontation outside, but the words sounded closer to a threat than a caution. She looked down at the shining blade, its edge catching the waning evening sunlight that filtered through the shutters. She was startled to discover it was stamped with the crossed-dagger symbol that marked it as Ferronese steel, the finest blade money could buy and rare in the mountains. All the best metalworkers came from the province of Ferro, where the iron ore used for steel was mined. The weapon was more suited to a ranking officer than a lowly foot soldier, and it was strange using the instrument of war to cut up vegetables. It was like using a shovel to stir soup.
They prepared their meal in silence. They’d have to talk about the soldier at some point, but Veronyka was in no hurry to broach the topic. It would mean addressing the fact that she—and Xephyra—had left the cabin against Val’s wishes, and it was a fight Veronyka knew she would lose. They might be sisters—equals, in theory—but Val was always in charge. Veronyka was always meant to fall in line behind her, no matter how much Veronyka resented it.