At first the sight of them caused an ache in his chest, and it took a while for Sev to recognize it as envy. He knew it was strange for a free man to be envious of people forced into servitude, but as someone who had always hidden his abilities, he found being around animages who used their magic so openly was like watching someone guzzle gulps of cool water while he died of thirst.
Now Sev found their presence comforting. The thrum of magic, the hard but gratifying labor, and the way the humans and animals worked together—it all reminded him of his time on the farm. Tilla and Corem had herded sheep, the same as Sev’s family, while the youngest bondservant of the bunch, nicknamed Junior, was from the small village near where Sev had grown up, and his family were fishermen. Or at least they had been.
“Don’t know where they are now,” Junior told him one day as they filled the water troughs. He had coloring and features similar to Kade, so much so that they could almost be brothers, except where Kade was tall and muscular, Junior was lanky and thin, all elbows and knees. “Empire got me before dawn, when I was checkin’ the nets. I never saw my family again.”
Sev realized he was lucky to know what had happened to his parents; even though they were gone, he knew they were at peace and not in bondage elsewhere. Though Junior was young, from what Sev understood, his parents had made a decent living selling their fish, and his term was seven years—half his life. While Sev often pitied the bondservants, Junior’s story made him angry, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Trix might have intended for him to have these kinds of feelings. He guessed that she’d posted him with the bondservants to show Sev to whom his loyalties should belong. He was exactly like them. And yet, because of his choice to deny himself and his magic, he was free, and they were not.
Of course Sev wished life could be different. If the war hadn’t happened, he would have been a sheepherder and a farmer, and every animage in the empire and beyond would be free. There would be no “mageslaves,” the Phoenix Riders would have remained glorious—distant—heroes, and both his parents would still be alive.
But life wasn’t different, and Sev’s decision had saved him from bondage. How could he regret it?
While Kade was as gruff with Sev as ever, he completely transformed when he interacted with the llamas. His face—his entire being—lit up when he was with them, murmuring reassurances and praise and interacting so subtly and skillfully that Sev was more than a little bit impressed. He was clearly the strongest animage of the bunch, someone who had been using his magic since birth.
Sev liked this side of him. He was usually so grim—even hostile—but with the animals, the stiff line of his shoulders relaxed, and his severe features softened into delighted smiles and gentle laughter. It made Sev want to be near him, to watch and bask in the warm light of his magical glow. But whenever Kade saw Sev close by, he’d scowl and turn away, and Sev would reluctantly do the same. He wished he could understand why Kade disliked him so much and find a way to quell the animosity between them.
Early one morning Sev scrambled from his bedroll just before dawn. The soldiers had camped in the shadows of a steep cliff next to a series of ruined structures. While they’d left the Pilgrimage Road far behind, they did sometimes find themselves on twisting stonework paths that would appear as if out of nowhere only to be swallowed by the forest moments later. There were broken archways made from rectangular blocks of stone, strange pillars engraved with unfamiliar geometric patterns, and crumbled statues standing guard along the way, so old and weatherworn that it was impossible to tell what they were supposed to be or who had built them in the first place. Sev had heard Corem say the word “Sekveia”—the Second Road—which was supposed to be a mythical route through the wilds of Pyrmont. When he was small, Sev and the other farmers’ children would go exploring in the Foothills, searching for the beginning of the legendary Second Road and the treasures it supposedly led to. Using it now as an empire soldier felt like some sick, twisted version of the childhood fantasy—especially if the “treasure” they sought at the end of this path was the Phoenix Riders’ hidden lair.
Noise had awoken him, and when he squinted toward the pack animals, he saw Kade already starting his work for the day. He was hauling sacks of grain and barrels of water, his breath swirling around his face. He’d removed his tunic, and steam rose from his body in the cool morning air, his chain glinting in the pale dawn sun.
Sev hadn’t slept well. Trix was nearby, muttering in her sleep as usual, and it had taken forever for him to drift off. He’d dreamed of the farm again, of rolling green hills and vast blue skies. Then he’d watched as it had all burned down.
Blinking to banish the images from his mind, Sev packed away his bedroll before making his way over to the paddock of llamas. His foot crunched on a small twig, and Kade whirled around, posture braced as if preparing for an attack.
He could be a soldier, Sev thought somewhat dazedly, scrubbing at his sleep-mussed hair, except for the eyes. They were intelligent and perceptive—but without cunning. They were kind eyes . . . until they recognized Sev.
“Oh,” Kade said, straightening up. “It’s you.”
With a sigh, Sev hunched over a water barrel and splashed several icy handfuls onto his face before taking a long drink.
When he straightened, Kade was still standing before him. He was panting slightly, his chest rising and falling, muscles glistening with sweat. As Sev lifted the edge of his tunic to mop his sodden face, Kade’s dark eyes followed his movements. His features were precisely carved, all angles and hard edges, and unlike Sev, whose chin was shaded with stubble, he’d kept up shaving his face, his jawline smooth. He was like a bronze statue of some ancient hero in a temple garden, gathering droplets of morning dew.
Sev inhaled sharply and cleared his throat, heat crawling up his neck. Since when did Sev care about temple statues? He realized with dismay that he’d been admiring more than Kade’s magic recently. He glanced up at the bondservant’s still-scowling face, and a bitter feeling settled in his stomach. Clearly the admiration was one-way.
Stepping around Kade, Sev spotted the stores of grain. He ripped one of the bags open and prepared to dump it into an empty trough, but Kade stopped him.
“What are you doing?” he demanded. His voice was its usual low rumble, but there was a raspy, gravelly edge to it—anger or annoyance, or maybe both.
Sev straightened, looking down at the grain in his hands. “Feeding them?” he said, his voice tilted as if it were a question. What had he done to earn Kade’s ire this time?
“Why?” Kade asked, taking a step forward. He waved a hand at the animals. “They are not your charges,” he said, then tapped a finger against his chest. “I am.”
“You’re not my charge,” Sev said uneasily. He was meant to guard the pack animal train and make sure everything went smoothly. Yes, that involved keeping an eye on the bondservants, but that didn’t make him Kade’s master.
“Don’t kid yourself, soldier,” Kade snapped, wrenching the feed from Sev’s grip. “You’re one of them.” He jerked his chin toward the rest of the campsite, where most of the soldiers were still sleeping.
“I know you don’t like me,” Sev began, clenching his hands into fists to stop from trying to snatch back the bag of feed. “But I think we’re more alike than you realize.”