There was a shout—a command, Sev thought—and a soldier stepped forward, a loaded crossbow in hand.
It was pointed at him, and Sev just stood there, muscles frozen, unable to move or think.
But then a fierce screech cut through the patter of the rain, and a fiery arrow pierced the heart of the archer before he could pull the trigger. Sev whirled and saw his mother rip past, fire blazing from her phoenix as she rained a dozen more arrows down on the empire soldiers in rapid succession. They ducked and raised shields, but before Sev could see more, strong hands gripped his arms and hoisted him up, up, into the air.
He was sitting in front of his father, mounted on his phoenix as they wheeled around, away from the fighting. It was Sev’s first and only flight on phoenix-back, and he’d been crying the whole time, too teeming with fear to marvel at the dizzying height and powerful speed.
Before he knew it, his father was placing him on the path to their house.
“It’s going to be all right, son,” he said, leaping back onto his phoenix and turning around to face Sev. His voice was calm and soothing, like it always was, no matter that they were under attack and his wife was fending off soldiers on her own. “Now, I want you to run as fast as you can to the safe house. You remember where it is, don’t you? Left at the fork. Run now, Sevro, and don’t look back.”
Sev did as he was told, his boots slipping and sliding on the muddy path. But when he reached the top of the hill, he disobeyed his father’s last request and turned around.
Both of his parents were in full flame, swooping and diving, leaving bodies and swathes of fire in their wake. Despite his fear, Sev’s heart swelled to see them make short work of the empire’s soldiers, who had begun to scatter and retreat, back over the hills . . .
And into the swollen ranks of their reinforcements.
There was double, triple the original number, the soldiers cresting the hilltop in waves. The first regiment must have been the vanguard, and now a larger force was on the horizon.
Behind Sev, villagers and farmhands were scrambling to load themselves into wagons with whatever animals and supplies they could manage to gather. If his parents didn’t stop the coming soldiers, they would cross the river and wreak havoc on all the people Sev had grown up with, friends and neighbors, cousins and relatives.
Turning his attention back to the fighting, Sev saw his mother and father flying high above, circling, signaling to each other. The bridge was on fire now, but the coming soldiers had wagons loaded with war machines, ladders, and catapults. The river wouldn’t stop them. Nothing would.
Somehow, deep down inside, Sev knew what his parents intended to do. Maybe that was why he stayed there, watching. Maybe he knew it would be the last time he ever saw them.
Slowly his parents’ phoenixes burned hotter, brighter . . . blistering, like the sun hanging low in the sky. Soon he couldn’t even see his parents, or the phoenixes they rode through the air—all he could see was fire and light.
With a crackle and a cry that would sear itself into Sev’s memory forever, his parents dropped, hurtling toward the enemy soldiers like blazing arrows. They landed in a fiery explosion, the heat waves rippling across the ground and knocking Sev, hundreds of yards away, off his feet. When he got up again, there was nothing but fire—soldiers running, screaming, while all around him, the crops began to burn.
Sev ran, just like his father had told him. He knew the fire would spread, would swallow their farmhouse, the stables, and the blackberry bushes. Everything Sev had ever known. He followed the road, trying to catch up with the villagers . . . but it wasn’t until nightfall, when he still hadn’t reached the safe house or seen the back of their wagons, that he realized he’d gone the wrong way at the fork.
He wound up at a small village farther down the river, one that was already in the empire’s possession. He was deemed a war orphan, loaded into a wagon with a handful of others, and carted off to Aura Nova. He’d learned quickly that being an animage in the empire was a very bad thing, and so he’d hidden his true identity. He’d learned other things too . . . how to go unnoticed—whether it was from the larger boys at the orphanage, looking for sport, or from the soldiers on the street, looking to meet their quota—how to beg, borrow, and steal. He’d also learned how to look the other way when the old Sev would have stood up and fought.
He learned how to be a coward.
In some ways, he’d been running ever since that last day on the farm—following his parents’ instructions at last. Run and hide. Stay safe.
Eventually it was hunger that got him captured, not his magic. He’d been caught stealing from a baker’s cart, and as he ran from the proprietor’s outstretched hand, he’d collided with a loaded merchant’s wagon. The carthorses startled, and the entire wagon tipped over—onto an empire soldier. Looking back, Sev often wondered if he could’ve stopped it if he’d used his magic to calm the horses. But he hadn’t, and someone had lost their life because of it.
Sev had been charged for the soldier’s murder and hauled to the Aura Nova prison that night. The next morning he was given a choice: be forgiven his crimes and serve for life in the military or work himself to death as a laborer. Sev had heard horror stories about the criminal labor camps, but joining the ranks of the people who’d killed his parents? He had thought it was the hardest decision of his life, choosing to join his enemies in order to survive.
Now he wasn’t so sure. Maybe Kade was right. Maybe he’d made a much worse choice long before in rejecting a part of himself.
Sev shook his head. It was too late to go back. All he could do now was move forward. He’d had enough of the guilt and the taunts and Trix’s mad plans. Let her tell them what he was; he’d be long gone before any of it mattered. Trix expected him to run at night—it was the logical thing to do—but Sev didn’t much feel like being logical.
The decision banked the fire burning inside him, and Sev’s mind cleared.
In the cover of the trees, he watched as the campsite came to life, as the llamas were fed and watered and reloaded with their burdens. Tents were packed up, meals eaten, and soon their party began to move out.
More than once Kade glanced over his shoulder in the general direction of the trees where Sev had disappeared. He whispered questions to Tilla and Corem—asking after him, Sev guessed—but they only shrugged and shook their heads.
Sev smiled grimly. He might be a terrible soldier and a worse animage, but he knew how to hide.
When the pack animals drew into a line, Kade at the lead, Sev slipped back out of the trees. The animals always brought up the rear of their convoy, allowing the soldiers to clear a path ahead. There would be plenty of guards walking alongside the animals, keeping watch over their valuable burdens, but right now none were in place. Even the rear guards were not yet in position. The time before the procession moved out was always chaotic, with stragglers and confusion and shouting voices.
It was perfect.
Before Sev could overthink or hesitate, he snuck to the back of the line and took the lead reins of the nearest llama, carefully guiding the animal aside. He was loaded with several sacks of grain, plus a few personal packs.
As the rest of the line moved forward, soldiers catching up as they snaked through the trees, Sev remained still, pretending to fiddle with a harness, allowing them to move past. The grass was thick here, the bushes and brambles growing tightly together, with swaying fronds swishing back and forth as the convoy progressed. Along with heavy crates and barrels stacked high, obscuring the view, it was easy to get lost in the shuffle of bodies and the noise of their departure.