It made her uneasy. She wondered how he’d feel if he knew she was a liar.
“Okay,” she said, peering around for a stick.
“There should be some in the bushes over there. Did you use your magic on the animals yesterday or just make the sound?”
“I didn’t use my magic. All I did was distract them. . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she realized the thing she’d noticed about him, his change in energy. It wasn’t just his attitude.
It was his magic.
Veronyka reached out to the animals, confirming her suspicion. His pressure, his hold on them . . . it was different from yesterday. The dog and the bird had a loose understanding of what was happening beyond what they remembered from doing the course before. Wind, too, was familiar with the exercise, but even so, the magic that told him to stand still and be calm wasn’t a forceful push. . . . It was a request.
“Right,” Tristan said, straightening in the saddle, oblivious to her revelation. “Do it whenever you want, and I’ll try to keep them focused.”
“Don’t prepare them for it,” Veronyka warned, tugging a branch from a tangle of weeds and walking backward to the target. “That’s cheating.”
She actually heard him chuckle. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
There was a hurdle coming up where horse and rider had to weave through a series of staggered poles jutting from the ground, and Veronyka decided this was when she’d make her move. She waited until he was about to finish, then hit the target as hard as she could. The sound echoed loudly, and she turned to see what Tristan did next.
The horse’s ears went flat, and the dog barked. Veronyka threw the stick into the air, and the dog leapt away from Wind—only to pause halfway across the clearing. Tristan was sweating, keeping Wind on course and the pigeon on his shoulder, and she could sense his pressure was increasing.
“Focus on the dog,” Veronyka found herself calling, remaining as still as she could. “You already have the bird and the horse—trust them, and focus on the dog.”
Tristan frowned, then gave her a small nod. His eyes closed. A heartbeat later the dog yipped and whirled around to rejoin him.
Tristan’s eyes flew open, lips parted in surprise, and Veronyka cheered. Overhead, Rex let out a musical screech, and a trail of fire streaked out behind him. Tristan looked up, watching his phoenix’s fiery arc across the sky, before looking back down at Veronyka.
He smiled at her, and the sight nearly knocked her off her feet. It transformed his usually haughty expression into something boyish and carefree. His cheeks dimpled on either side, and his brown eyes glittered with triumph. He looked like some mythical hero again, as he had the first time she’d seen him—except this time it was his smile that shattered the fanciful illusion, and not the fact that his drawn spear was leveled at her.
Veronyka swallowed, realizing that he had said something—and she hadn’t heard a word.
“P-pardon me?” she said, still slightly dazed.
His smile twisted into a quizzical frown. “I said, I think I want to have another go—can you stay?”
Veronyka did a double take. He wanted her to stay with him? Was she no longer an annoying presence, a punishment laid down by his father? Did he actually value her help? Warmth spread from her chest all the way to her fingertips.
“Of course,” she said.
He smiled gratefully, and the angry, mean boy from the days before was gone. Maybe that wasn’t who he truly was. . . . Maybe she’d had him wrong all along.
As Veronyka expected, Tristan did even better the second time around. Though the dog still turned and darted toward the stick, he didn’t move more than a few steps before Tristan got him back under control.
As they packed up, a cold wind whipped across the open field, and the lanterns atop the village gate swayed and guttered in the distance. Veronyka shivered, until a gust of warm wind enveloped her like a hug as Rex landed on the ground nearby.
Veronyka stared admiringly at the beautiful creature. His heat and his magic pulsed from him, leaving her both warm and covered in goose bumps. She couldn’t believe she’d had a phoenix of her own, for however brief a time.
Veronyka closed her eyes. Xephyra’s smoke-and-charcoal scent filled her nostrils, and her rustling feathers whispered in Veronyka’s ear. It was as comforting as a caress, as painful as a freshly opened wound.
She clenched her jaw and reinforced her walls, burying both the good and the bad.
If Veronyka had come here with her bondmate, she could be an apprentice, like Tristan. Not a servant. Not a boy.
She could be herself.
“You can pet him, if you like,” Tristan offered with a slight frown, as if he were trying to puzzle out her bizarre expression.
Veronyka hesitated, thinking about her future among the Riders. Could she really bond anew, with Xephyra still living in her heart? Could she still love the same way?
But as her gaze lit on Rex, some of the pain and anxiety disappeared from her mind—like the night’s last shadows banished by the sun.
She rested a hand on the phoenix’s neck. Rex stood tall and proud, his feathers almost hot to the touch, and softer than she’d have expected since he was full grown. While Veronyka could speak into the mind of any animal she chose, phoenixes were the only ones that had the ability to block that access—thanks to their own magic. But after a moment Rex opened himself to her, slowly and deliberately, like a flower beginning to bloom.
Veronyka’s fears all but evaporated. Yes, she could move forward. Xephyra would always be with her, and bonding with one of her brothers or sisters wouldn’t be a betrayal. Taking them into her heart would be like honoring Xephyra’s memory, not abandoning it.
Focusing on Rex, she marveled at his calm, self-assured nature. He was clearly the stable counterbalance to Tristan’s easy frustration, but the longer she remained connected to him, the more she understood that while he often calmed his bondmate, he was capable of peaks and valleys of his own. He had arrogance and a powerful temper, but humor as well.
Tristan watched them closely, and she wondered what he could sense of their interaction through his bondmate—if anything. The lines between shadow magic and regular animal magic were often difficult to discern, and mysterious at the best of times.
Coming to stand next to her, Tristan ran his hand along Rex’s neck.
“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?” he said, eyes on the scarlet feathers underneath his fingers, and not on her face.
“Say what?” Veronyka asked.
“You were right,” he said, dropping his hand and looking down at her. He sighed heavily, as if it pained him deeply to admit it. “I’ve been thinking about it all day, and when I tried it, just now . . . You were right about the animals, about the way we control them.”
Veronyka smiled, patting Rex once more before repacking their waterskins into Wind’s saddlebag.
Tristan crossed his arms over his chest. His face was almost impossible to see in the darkness.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asked.
Her smile grew wider before she forced it down and turned to face him. “Only a little.”
He laughed, the sound as soft as a whisper across her skin. “Were your family Riders, then?” he asked, slinging his bow and arrows over his shoulder as they continued to pack up. “You seem to know a lot about animal magic.”