After some dark muttering, Ott proceeded to recount the day’s events, conveniently leaving out their stop at the cabin.
Sev barely listened, his mind racing with what Officer Yara had said. The captain had gone on an urgent errand. That meant a change in routine. That meant possibility.
Sev closed his eyes and flashed back to the duty roster he’d seen just that morning. He had a gift for memory, and he usually put his overactive brain to use, studying people and things and ordering them in his mind. It was a habit he’d picked up on the streets of Aura Nova. Just as he knew where to beg for coins and where to beg for a roll, he also knew which alleys were off-limits, thanks to gangs and street lords, and the best shortcuts to make an easy escape.
He’d had to start all over again in the army, learning who to avoid—like Jotham and Ott—and who might show a kind hand. Sev had memorized people’s schedules and preferences, as well as their skills and liabilities. Most of it was useless, but sometimes it came in handy.
Like today.
Captain Belden had two personal guards, both of whom usually worked a night watch shift. But with Captain Belden gone from camp—and them with him—their shifts would have to be covered by two others. It was a small thing, but it might just be the advantage Sev needed, the twist of fate that he’d been waiting for.
He had wanted a way out ever since he’d been made a soldier, but it hadn’t taken long to realize that desertion was next to impossible inside the empire’s heavily guarded training facilities and walled compounds. But then he’d been sent on his first mission, outside the empire. Sev had figured his work was half-done and had been on the lookout for his chance ever since.
Dragging his feet, Sev lumbered forward. “ ’Scuse me, Officer Yara?” he said as Jotham and Ott were dismissed.
She peered down her nose at him, and Sev guessed she was trying to remember his name. “Yes . . . soldier?”
“D’you know if Garret is already at his post? He said it was my duty to bring ’round dinner to him and Arro, and—”
Yara’s lips pursed. She knew full well that it wasn’t Sev’s duty to bring dinner to his fellow soldiers, and no doubt assumed this was some form of hazing that the younger recruits often endured at the hands of the older—like the crossbow Ott had ordered Sev to carry on his behalf.
“Garret and Arro are currently accompanying Captain Belden on his errand. Rian and Heller have taken their places, but I assure you, you need not bring them dinner.”
Sev nodded gratefully and bowed his head before departing, trying to hide the smile that lit his face as he delivered Ott’s crossbow to the weapons master. Rian was as good a soldier as any, but while Heller was experienced, he wasn’t terribly spry. Old injuries plagued him, and though he did his best to hide it, Sev knew he was going deaf in his left ear. He’d first noticed it weeks back, the way Heller always tilted his head when someone spoke to him, and then Sev had tested his theory several times, sidling up to Heller’s left-hand side and trying to catch him off guard. It had earned Sev a smack to the side of the head, but it had been worth it.
It wasn’t much by way of an advantage, but it might be enough.
The watch would change once more before they broke camp at dawn, so Sev would have to make his move before then.
Exhilaration swelled inside him as the soldiers settled in for the night. Sev performed his usual routine of wandering the edges of the clearing, outwardly looking for a spot for his bedroll but in actuality refreshing his knowledge of the names, faces, and habits of his fellow soldiers.
Confirming that no eyes followed him and that any problematic soldiers were occupied with sleep or liquor, Sev clutched his bedroll tighter—concealing the fact that he wore a travel pack stocked with water and food supplies—and drifted deeper into the shadows before turning his back and slipping between the trees.
The darkness pressed against his eyes, and Sev had to take careful steps to ensure he didn’t trip over roots or get caught in brambles. The perimeter watch always maintained a certain formation, and from his memory of the day’s duty roster, Sev knew that Garret and Arro had been assigned to the southwest points, so that’s where Rian and Heller would be.
Tiptoeing in that direction now, Sev smiled when the stooped figure of Heller became visible between the trees. Limbs tingling with anticipation, Sev paused to gather himself. He had only one shot at this, and if he was caught, he had no reason for being this far from camp. Reaching into his travel pack, he took a hasty swig from a bottle of liquor he’d stolen from Ott, reasoning that if all else failed, he could pretend to be drunk.
Clenching his jaw, Sev closed his eyes and cast his awareness wide, searching. . . .
Finally, he had it—a cluster of bats perched on a branch nearby. Perfect. While he sent the creatures right, distracting Heller, Sev would slip left.
Once he got away, no one would think to look for him until morning. By then Sev would have several hours’ head start. He’d continue south, into the Foothills, and ask around until he found his way to his parents’ old farm—or what was left of it.
It had been a beautiful place to live once. Sev’s family had been sheepherders, and to this day, when he closed his eyes at night, he saw rolling green fields and wide-open skies.
When the war broke out, the Pyraean border became the front lines, and animages had fled to the mountains in droves. People like Sev’s parents were recruited, given secondhand weapons and phoenix eggs, and expected to fight to keep the empire foot soldiers back.
They never complained, never lamented their fates. It was an honor to serve a Rider queen, they’d said, and Avalkyra Ashfire had the rightful claim to the throne. Her mother was queen at the time of Avalkyra’s birth, which made her the trueborn heir, while her sister was made legitimate after the fact.
Sev’s parents were proud to don their armor, and with every victorious battle, they braided pieces of obsidian into their hair. The sight of his mother and father flying out to meet empire soldiers had filled Sev with blistering, blinding pride.
Foolish pride.
He’d thought his parents were invincible, but of course they weren’t. Nobody was.
Sometimes Sev hated them for dying and leaving him behind, but it had taught him a valuable lesson about survival. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes as them.
As soon as he got away from camp tonight, he’d disappear. No more Jotham and Ott, no more scowling bondservants and vengeful girls with sharp knives and extinct phoenixes. He wanted none of it, had chosen none of it. It was time he took his life into his own hands.
With a forceful, somewhat clumsy command, Sev directed the bats away from Heller.
They resisted. Sev was a passable animage at best—too many years of hiding his abilities had left them weak and unimpressive—and the creatures merely chittered and shifted in agitation.
Heller glanced up at the tree, and a cold sweat broke out over Sev’s neck. With a desperate surge of his magic, Sev pushed hard, and the bats took flight, darting through the leaves in a burst of shifting, flapping shadows.
Heller cursed and lurched to his feet, squinting into the darkness toward the sound of the chattering bats.
This is it.
“I’d be more careful if I were you,” said a voice just behind him. Sev’s heart leapt into his throat. He whipped around to see a small figure standing mere inches behind him.