Still, the silence made her uneasy. The only time her sister was ever truly still was when she was plotting.
“I’m going away for a couple of days,” Val announced, stirring the contents of the pot, causing great tufts of steam to swirl about her face.
Going away?
“Where?” Veronyka asked, putting down the knife and scooping up handfuls of vegetables to toss inside. Next to her, Xephyra nibbled at a potato skin, lifting the oversize piece into the air, only to shake her head, spit it out, and try another one.
“To look for another egg. There’s an outpost just outside Vayle; it hasn’t been in use since the Reign of Wisdom, when they relocated to Hightower across the river.”
“But . . . Wise Queen Malka ruled almost a hundred years ago. Do you really think there’ll be eggs there?”
Val shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”
“We should go with you,” Veronyka said, her heart fluttering at the idea of going on a journey, however short.
“You can come,” Val said, “but your phoenix cannot. I won’t compromise our safety as cavalierly as you do.”
Veronyka stared at her hands. They had come to it, her and Xephyra’s disobedience. Rather than await Val’s tirade, Veronyka jumped in and changed the subject.
“Maybe it’s time we moved on anyway,” she said carefully. She might defer to Val, let her make the majority of their decisions, but Veronyka had a brain too—she had opinions and ideas of her own and plans she wanted to make. Veronyka had always wanted to seek out other animages once she and her sister were in Pyra, to try to find friends and allies. Now that they had a phoenix to protect, Veronyka and Val needed those friendships more than ever. “The owner of this cabin could be back at any moment,” Veronyka continued. “Xephyra’s still small, but she’s only going to get bigger. And those soldiers . . . We’re not safe here.”
“I will protect us,” Val said. “I always have, haven’t I?” Her jaw jutted out, as if daring Veronyka to claim otherwise.
“Even if you’re not here?”
Val’s nostrils flared. “If you’d done what I told you to do and stayed inside—”
“I’d probably be dead,” Veronyka snapped. They stared at each other, but Val made no reply. “We don’t have to do this alone,” Veronyka whispered, trying to keep her voice reasonable. “We could look for other animages. We could look for Phoenix Riders.”
“Phoenix Riders?” Val repeated flatly. “There are no Phoenix Riders, Veronyka. The empire slaughtered them all.”
“The Riders maybe, but not the animages. If we can hunt down lost eggs and hatch them, who’s to say that others haven’t done the same? We should travel higher up Pyrmont. The farther we get from the empire, the better.”
“The empire is everywhere, not just on the lower rim. We can’t trust anyone but ourselves.”
Veronyka bit her lip. All their lives it had been like this. Veronyka was never allowed to make friends, to attend festivals or walk the city alone. It had gotten worse after their grandmother’s death, but her loss made Veronyka yearn for connection all the more. Val pretended it was about safety, blindly threatening to kill any stranger who crossed her path, but Veronyka knew it was more about control—and she was tired of constantly bowing to Val’s whims.
Yes, the empire was everywhere—they’d just seen the evidence. But just because someone was from the empire didn’t mean they were bad. Veronyka and Val had both been born in the empire, no matter their Pyraean roots, and so had their maiora. She had told them to protect each other—but that didn’t mean living in seclusion and never trusting anyone else ever again.
Trusting that empire soldier had saved her life. If she’d been like Val, blindly threatening to kill any stranger who crossed her path, she’d probably be dead.
There was strength in trust, in unity. They needed to find a place where people like them could be safe and protected. If such a place didn’t exist, they’d have to make it for themselves.
“Call her off,” Val said, interrupting Veronyka’s thoughts. She jerked her chin down at Xephyra, who was picking her way across the floor, burrowing her beak in a pile of shavings.
“What—why? They’re garbage anyway.”
“That’s not the point,” Val snapped, picking up the knife from where it lay on the cutting stone. The air in the cabin stilled, as if all the oxygen had been siphoned from the room.
“She followed you today, left the cabin when you told her not to.”
“Val, nothing happened!” Veronyka lied, her throat tight with dread. She tried to think of what to say, how to talk Val down from her simmering rage, but her mind was a blank haze. “She’s still young. She’s curious, and—”
“She’s almost ready to ride, Veronyka! She’s no fresh hatchling. It’s been weeks since we built that pyre. Look how fast she grows, how much stronger she gets each day. You must rein her in. There may come a time when Xephyra’s obedience is the difference between life and death. You can’t ask her then. You will have to tell her—and she must listen.”
With the knife gripped in one hand, Val drew a pitted date from her pocket with the other, holding it in the center of her palm. Xephyra’s head popped up, drawn to Val’s movement, her eyes fixed on the fruit in the girl’s outstretched hand. Dates were her favorite.
“Val,” Veronyka said sharply, her muscles stiffening as she prepared to stand up. Val took a step backward, putting distance between her and Veronyka, and Xephyra followed.
Powerlessness seized Veronyka, turning her body to lead. Xephyra was just out of reach, yet she might as well have been on the other side of the valley. The phoenix’s attention was turned toward Val, but she soon felt Veronyka’s distress. Xephyra’s black eyes glittered as she swiveled her head, looking from her bondmate to the treat, and then back to Veronyka.
“Just call her off,” Val said calmly, stooping low to offer the date to Xephyra. Veronyka couldn’t take her eyes off the knife in Val’s hand. Dark, dangerous memories flashed before her eyes: Val dragging the dead body of their landlord into the alleyway after they’d missed several months of rent; Val defending them against three men who wanted more than their money, her face exultant and her hands dripping with blood.
“I’m trying,” Veronyka said in a strangled voice, blocking out the haunting images and turning her focus to Xephyra. She slowed her breathing, trying to calm herself and convey meaning to her bondmate, to explain the concept of danger. Xephyra’s response was to send her bright-eyed reassurance: She’d had dates before. They were sweet and delicious, and Val was a familiar sight and sound and smell. Xephyra didn’t understand.
“Don’t explain it to her,” Val said, while Xephyra took another step forward. “Tell her. Command her to step back. Command her to go to you.”
Terror had sunk its teeth into Veronyka, and she tried—but she knew she did it wrong. She was desperate now, afraid and on the verge of tears. She didn’t command; she begged. She pleaded. And all her wild emotions managed to do was cause her phoenix to tilt her head in confusion before edging nearer to Val.