Veronyka smiled. “I hope so. What will you do?” She didn’t know anything about the girl, where she came from or where she was going. Maybe Sparrow didn’t know either.
“We haven’t been to Runnet in a while,” she said with a sigh, letting her moth friend fly away. “Maybe we’ll go there next.” Her sparrow cheeped his assent, making it clear who the “we” was in that sentence.
Sparrow was soon snoring, but Veronyka only dozed lightly, afraid to miss the steward’s departure. She saw the fishermen leave for their boats and smelled the baker’s first bread. Elliot returned just before dawn, shoulders hunched against the cold—or maybe it was the idea of leaving his family that dragged him down.
When the wagon rolled out of the stable yard into the golden morning sunshine, Veronyka was waiting by the gate.
“Excuse me,” she said, startling Beryk as he shuffled through some papers. Elliot was just out of earshot, adjusting the wagon’s canvas cover, though he frowned at her in recognition.
“Yes?” the steward asked. While Elliot seemed to remember her, Beryk’s expression was vaguely polite.
Veronyka swallowed. “I heard—I know that you’re . . . phoenixaeres,” she said, keeping her voice low.
Beryk had leaned in to hear her, but he straightened abruptly when she spoke in Pyraean. “I’m sorry, lass,” he said sharply, “but I don’t speak ancient Pyraean.”
“Please,” Veronyka said, stepping in front of him as he moved to walk away. He glanced at her, and she must have truly looked pathetic, because he stopped. “I want to go with you. I’m an animage, and—”
“You must be confused. I manage a country estate, and this here is my assistant.”
“Your underwing?” Veronyka asked stubbornly.
Beryk smiled tightly, and when Elliot wandered over, he waved for the boy to get onto the wagon. “Listen, lass, and listen closely,” he said in a rapid whisper. “Whatever you think you heard, you’d best forget it. For your own sake. Even if I were recruiting—which I’m not—and even if that recruitment were for animages—which it isn’t—I’m afraid you’d not fit our requirements.”
“Because I’m not a boy?” Veronyka asked.
The man wore a heavy, regretful expression, as if this weren’t the first time he’d had to reject a girl and he didn’t enjoy it. “I know it seems unfair, but he has his reasons.”
He, this commander that Beryk had mentioned the previous day. Before Veronyka could argue further, he gave her arm a bracing pat, then hopped onto the wagon.
She watched them go, a riot of emotions inside her chest. She was disappointed, yes, but he’d basically admitted that he was a Rider. The existence of even one Phoenix Rider on Pyrmont was cause for celebration.
“What’d he say?”
Veronyka jumped, surprised to find Sparrow standing right next to her. She’d been lurking in the shadows outside the inn, but once Beryk left, she had sidled up to Veronyka on silent feet.
“It’s like you said; they only want boys,” Veronyka muttered, still trying to understand their exchange and what it meant. Were the Phoenix Riders of the future going to be men alone?
Sparrow shrugged. “Then be a boy.”
Veronyka’s breath caught, and she looked up at Sparrow in surprise.
Be a boy.
It was simple. It was brilliant.
It was exactly what Veronyka would do.
Aura, the original capital of the Queendom of Pyra, sat atop Pyrmont’s highest peak. It was built around the Everlasting Flame, a massive pit filled with the same god-made flames that had tested Nefyra a thousand years ago. It continued to burn long after her trial, constantly fueled by gases leaking from holes in the mountain.
Stone filled with veins of precious metals surrounded the Everlasting Flame, and the Pyraeans slowly excavated temples and statues from the living rock. Fissures of gold reflected the firelight, gilding every surface, leading to the name “Aura,” the Golden City.
The Pyraeans slowly spread over the highest peaks of the mountain, able to live and build in places where only those with phoenixes could ever reach. It wasn’t until the Everlasting Flame went out that the Riders went in search of new lands and new prosperity. Many saw the extinction of the Everlasting Flame as a sign that Axura was displeased with them and that they had fallen out of favor. Every phoenix ever hatched until that time had been incubated in the Everlasting Flame, and it was an integral part of everyday life for the ancient Phoenix Riders. In that divine fire, lives were birthed and dead bodies burned; festivals and celebrations, weddings and ceremonies, all were done in the light of the Everlasting Flame.
Newly crowned Queen Elysia knew her people needed more than a new home. . . . They needed a new start. After years of maintaining and defending Pyra’s borders—which had grown to encompass all of Pyrmont and the surrounding Foothills—Elysia set her sights on expansion and exploration. She maintained that was their true purpose—to spread Axura’s light into all corners of the world.
There were battles and alliances, treaties and new boundaries, and soon Pyraean queens married valley kings and established the Auran—more commonly called Golden—Empire, never returning to the highest reaches of their mountain home.
—Myths and Legends of the Golden Empire and Beyond, a compilation of stories and accounts, the Morian Archives, 101 AE
She called it betrayal. I called it justice. A poisoned cup for a poisoned cup, a death for a death. A queen for a king.
- CHAPTER 11 -
SEV
SEV SOON CAME TO regret his deal with Trix—if it could even be called a deal. Blackmail, more like. He thought often of reporting her, but he didn’t doubt she’d make good on her threats. He hadn’t built up any amount of clout or goodwill with the other soldiers, and he knew from experience that Trix could be very persuasive.
The fact of the matter was, the woman was smarter than him, and he couldn’t afford to cross her. Trix knew about his little escape attempt and would probably keep an eye on him at night to ensure he didn’t make another run for it. If Sev refused to help her, well, she’d reveal his secret—and frame him for any number of other things as well—and he’d find himself in bondage, or worse. Being an animage in hiding was one thing, but being an animage hiding among the empire’s precious ranks of soldiers was something else. Most bondservants were forced to serve until they’d “paid back their debt to the empire,” which really just meant paying back lost taxes. That usually resulted in a term of at least ten years, depending on how old the animage was and what exactly they’d been caught doing. If they were running a booming business thanks to their magic—breeding Stellan horses or training expensive hunting falcons—without paying the magetax, the empire would have lost out on piles of gold, so their term as a bondservant would be much longer. Children and poor folk tended to serve shorter terms, but their families usually suffered without them. And once they were released from their bondage, they were taxed twice as heavily for the rest of their lives.
Traitors who were captured after the Blood War—animages who supported Avalkyra Ashfire—served for life or were deemed too dangerous to live and were executed. Sev expected to be lumped in with the traitors if he were discovered, but he wasn’t sure if his crime would be considered bad enough to get him killed. The empire took its military seriously, and Captain Belden was not an understanding man. Plus, Sev had been a convicted murderer before he enlisted—in the face of his treachery, they might decide to unforgive that crime, take his head, and be done with it.