Heart of Flames, page 55
Veronyka prepared to check in with her bondmate to see if she’d been freed when realization hit. Xephyra. If Veronyka and Tristan were bonded, then surely Xephyra and Rex were as well. Had her bondmate managed to call for help when Veronyka could not?
More urgently now, Veronyka connected with Xephyra—and a thrill shot through her.
Sev. She could see him outside Xephyra’s cage. Where was Sidra? It didn’t matter. She must have left, or Sev must have taken care of her.
Limbs tingling, Veronyka watched through Xephyra’s eyes as Sev rattled the lock and peered in through the keyhole. That other animage was with him, a bondservant, and again Veronyka was struck by a familiarity she couldn’t place.
Sev’s expression was determined as he produced several long, thin pieces of metal from his pocket. Lockpicks.
“…Five by our count, but there could be more coming,” one of Rolan’s soldiers was saying, drawing Veronyka back to her surroundings. They had thrown open the balcony doors, and several soldiers were standing outside, pointing to the north.
Rolan’s expression was thoughtful. He turned to Val and Veronyka. “Luck, it seems, is on our side.”
“Luck?” Val repeated incredulously. “They know we’re here, and you’ve got barely thirty soldiers to protect us. These are Phoenix Riders. We must leave at once.”
“Why on earth would we leave,” Rolan began with an arrogant drawl, “when they are about to assure our victory?”
“I thought you assured our victory when you called for the Grand Council meeting. What has all this pointless fighting been for if not to guarantee their votes in our favor?”
“As you might imagine, allies who’ve been threatened, bribed, and otherwise purchased do not always make the most loyal friends. There’s no telling who might offer a higher price or a more dire threat. I’d rather not take any chances. If we engage them, if an entire flock is seen here, on empire soil, battling and burning… There will be dozens of witnesses. I will no longer need to waste time, soldiers, or gold to ensure we get the desired verdict. They will prove themselves guilty.”
“Why do you think they’re here in the first place? To do you a favor? This is no accident or coincidence. They’ve come for her,” Val said, pointing a finger at Veronyka. “They know who she is, and they know we have her. They could tell the council and ruin everything.”
“If they know we have her, it’s more important than ever to discredit them. The council will be forced to act. The Phoenix Riders won’t have time to make claims or argue their case—war will be upon them.”
“I’m telling you, they won’t leave here without her. They’ll capture us all. They’ll—”
Potent relief exploded in Veronyka’s chest, and she knew that Xephyra was free, that she was coming for Veronyka.
“She’s not worried about me or your stupid plan,” Veronyka interrupted, determination flaring to life within her. “She’s worried about herself.”
Both Rolan and Val stared at her, as if just realizing she was a human person capable of speech and not an inanimate object to be argued over and bartered for.
While Rolan’s features were scrunched in confusion, Val’s face had gone stiff with shock and rage. There was a flicker in her eyes, and Veronyka knew she’d realized what Veronyka herself just had—Sidra was gone, which meant Xephyra was safe and Veronyka was free. Did Rolan know Veronyka had a phoenix? He was about to find out.
That’s right, Val, Veronyka thought through their bond. Val’s mind was closed to her, as usual, but Veronyka forced her words through the barrier, finding newly made cracks of self-doubt. I’m coming for you.
“What do you mean?” Rolan pressed, glancing between them. “Explain yourselves.”
“Don’t listen to her—she’s deceptive, like her mother,” Val said hastily.
Veronyka smiled, ignoring her. “You should make a habit of knowing who you’re in business with, Rolan. This isn’t just my foster sister. This is Avalkyra Ashfire, the Feather-Crowned Queen. Or at least, she used to be.”
Rolan gaped, as if he sincerely couldn’t believe his ears. “Preposterous,” he said, waving away her words. “Avalkyra Ashfire died during the Last Battle, along with your mother. And even if she didn’t… this girl can’t be older than twenty, and Avalkyra would be in her thirties by now.”
“Thirty-five, to be exact,” Veronyka said.
“The Riders are coming. We don’t have time for this,” Val burst in angrily, but Rolan was still staring at Veronyka. Whether he believed her or not, she had his attention, and that was all she needed.
“I never said Avalkyra Ashfire didn’t die. She did—spectacularly,” Veronyka added, and Val’s nostrils flared, her lips pulling back from her teeth in a silent snarl. “But she came back. Resurrection. Surely you’ve heard the stories, phoenixes going down in flame only to rise again, more powerful and terrible than before. Well, animages are just as magical as phoenixes. Think about it…. Why would she go through all this trouble to give you a throne and an empire?”
Rolan looked at Val, a heavy frown lowering his brow. “She’s been promised wealth and position. That’s plenty for a nameless Pyraean girl.”
“Oh, but she’s not nameless. Val. Avalkyra. You never met her, did you? You met Pheronia, of course, but you never met her Phoenix Rider sister. But do you know who has?” Veronyka asked, taking a slow step toward him. She was speaking calmly, cajolingly, allowing Rolan’s mind to catch up with her words. “Commander Cassian, who’s on his way right this second. He can confirm her true identity, and so obviously she wants us to flee.”
Rolan swallowed thickly, eyes wide and blinking. With a quick gesture, he waved several guards in from the landing. Two flanked Val, while the others remained on either side of the door, blocking any chance of escape. They didn’t touch her, but their presence was threatening enough.
“This belongs to her as well,” Veronyka said, and before Val could say anything, Veronyka held out her wrist, twisting the golden band of the signet ring until Avalkyra Ashfire’s seal with its spread wings was clearly visible.
Rolan snatched Veronyka’s wrist, staring down at it, before roughly releasing her.
“I must admit she has the Ashfire look…,” Rolan muttered, his voice low and slightly feverish. “But why hide it when—” He froze, looking up at Val. “You want to crown yourself. You want to use my army and my resources, and then, rather than put your niece on the throne, you would put yourself. Why bring her into this at all when you and I could forge a more powerful alliance?”
Rolan’s words mirrored exactly what Veronyka had asked Val the night before. Val’s eyes sparked dangerously, but she was quick to mask the reaction.
“As if Avalkyra Ashfire would ever stoop so low,” she scoffed, still not admitting her true identity, though those words seemed confirmation enough to Veronyka.
“My lord, they’re here,” another soldier announced. He’d been perched on the balcony keeping a lookout and now rushed in through the door, moving to stand between Rolan and the open air.
A great sweeping wing became visible, followed by a gust of warm wind. Then two massive clawed feet gripped the banister and a leather-clad Rider slipped from the great bird’s back.
Commander Cassian, just as Veronyka had hoped.
There was another gust of wind as Maximian took flight, and then several more phoenixes made their perch and unloaded their burdens, the view of blue sky obscured by red feathers. Nearer at hand, Veronyka could hear the creak of crossbow strings and the metallic scrape of steel withdrawn from scabbard, but Rolan held up a hand, telling his soldiers not to attack.
The commander was now joined by Beryk, Fallon—Alexiya—and Tristan, whose gaze was restless, searching…
Looking for her.
Veronyka took an unconscious step forward, but Rolan’s soldiers were in a tight ring around them now, blocking Veronyka, Val, and the governor himself from sight of the balcony. Rolan cast a considering look at both of them before nodding.
“We’ll discover the truth now, once and for all.” He nodded at his guards, and they led the way outside.
“You’re going to walk out there with this paltry escort?” Val demanded, her voice slightly shrill. Veronyka could sense the panic in her, the way her mind—and her eyes—darted around, seeking a way out of this mess.
“No, we are going to walk out there,” Rolan corrected. “You will come with me onto the balcony, or the deal is off.”
In the wake of the Last Battle and the end of the Blood War, the Council of Governors scrambled to get the empire back under control.
But while many of the land’s leaders and politicians worked hard to bring order and prosperity back to their people, many others sought opportunity for personal gain. Without a queen on the throne, motions had to be passed by a vote—but any orders or decrees issued before the war were given higher priority. If they came stamped with the seal of one of the Ashfire queens, even more so. It was too soon to tell if the royal line was truly broken or if any of the distant Ashfire cousins—real or imagined—wanted to make a claim to the throne. Tales of long-lost Ashfires and secret weddings abounded, and no object proved more valuable—or more difficult to find—than an Ashfire signet ring.
Even edicts stamped by Avalkyra—the rebellious traitor queen—held weight according to the lawmakers and notaries who still held their positions on the council.
While a ring with the spread-winged symbol of Avalkyra Ashfire did appear in the aftermath, only to be quickly debunked as a fake, the seal of Pheronia Ashfire was never seen again.
—“The Lost Ashfire Rings,” from Jewels of the Golden Empire by Ginevra, High Priestess of Mori, published 172 AE
My heart tells me that where I am weak,
you will be strong. Where I have failed,
you will succeed.
- CHAPTER 50 - AVALKYRA
THE THREE OF THEM stepped out onto the balcony; Rolan’s guards surrounded them on all sides, while Veronyka, their prize, was sandwiched between them.
Before them stood Commander Cassian, leader of Pyra’s ragtag Phoenix Rider forces.
Avalkyra steadied her breathing.
It had been harder than she’d expected to walk into the Eyrie all those weeks ago. The place reminded her of her own time in Phoenix Rider training, and it had been strange to see Cassian grown old, wearing the mantle of commander, when Avalkyra had known him back when his father was governor. He had been several years her senior, and she’d watched him train as a Rider, take his position in Ferro, and court her childhood friend, Olanna Flamesong. His cautious politician’s nature tempered Olanna’s natural fire, softening it—softening her—and Avalkyra had hated to see them together.
But all three of their lives had long been intertwined, and both Olanna and Cassian had been on her Rider Council. In her memories, he was still as young as her. He was… well, he looked like his son did now. It was what Avalkyra had thought when she’d first seen that brown-haired, brown-eyed boy. Even the touch of Olanna’s blood couldn’t change all the ways he favored his father.
And his son was with him now. He’d do anything for Veronyka, which Avalkyra supposed was an admirable asset. There were two other male Riders, unfamiliar to her, and then a woman. She was tall, her black hair long and braided.
Alexiya, Rider of Ximn.
In truth, Avalkyra barely knew the girl and hadn’t seen her since the war. Of course she was no girl now, but a woman grown, and older than Avalkyra by seventeen years.
But then, she’d been young and brazen, and she’d looked just like him.
If Commander Cassian was guilty of stealing Olanna away, what Alexiya’s family had done to Avalkyra’s was much worse.
Avalkyra swallowed; she remained cloaked and hooded, her entire body still—but her mind raced. She could avoid these reunions no longer.
She hadn’t been able to face Cassian when she’d been at the Eyrie, alone and friendless among Riders with whom she did not, could not, belong. Alexiya, on the other hand, was a reminder of the past that Avalkyra would rather forget.
But it seemed that her grace period—her years of hiding in the shadows—was over at long last.
Avalkyra straightened her spine.
The time for bargains and treaties was gone.
Now it was time for steel.
“To what do I owe this most unexpected pleasure?” Rolan asked the Phoenix Riders, smiling jovially, arms spread wide as though in welcome.
The commander took him in with narrowed eyes. “I didn’t think you’d be so… pleased to see me,” he said, his tone equally light, though lacking in the upbeat, almost friendly attitude of Rolan.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Rolan asked, his mouth still quirked up at the corners, as if they were sharing the same joke. He leaned in conspiratorially. “I’ve been trying to draw you out for weeks now, Cassian. It’s a good thing you’ve finally come—there are almost no Pyraean settlements left.”
Veronyka stiffened, and Avalkyra sent an elbow into her side. The girl had to stop exposing every thought and feeling for the world to see. Without their bond, without shadow magic—even without eyes, Avalkyra was certain she would have known Veronyka’s impotent anger in that moment.
Cassian, for all his faults, was a master of his expression and demeanor. Avalkyra had tried to use shadow magic against him in her youth, but he wasn’t worth the effort. Secretive and strong-minded by nature, he was the exact opposite of his son, who was an open book. The only sign Cassian was angry at all was a slight tightening around the corners of his eyes, highlighting the crow’s-feet that marked all the years that now separated Avalkyra from her past, from her once-contemporaries.
“Congratulations. You have drawn us out—though I would check that triumphant tone, Rolan. I flew over quite an impressive battlefield on my way here… and with no Pyraean settlements in sight.”
Rolan’s smile evaporated. Cassian was referring to the short work Avalkyra and Veronyka had made of his soldiers. Despite Avalkyra’s pride in the destruction they’d wrought, it was hard not to be regretful. Would she and Veronyka never fly together again?
“Rest easy. We are not here for a fight.”
“Oh no?” Rolan asked, eyeing the weapons strapped across the arms and chests of Cassian’s Riders.
“No. We are here for the girl. There has been no bloodshed here yet, and there need not be.”
“Surely you’ve figured out by now that bloodshed is precisely what I want: Phoenix Riders with blood on their hands—empire blood.”
“Be careful what you wish for—it might be your blood that is spilled today. You will have a difficult time pleading your case to the council if you don’t make it out of this encounter alive.”
Avalkyra tilted her head at Cassian, studying him. Perhaps the years apart had hardened the man, made him capable of more strength than she’d have thought.
Rolan’s face was a thundercloud. “You dare to threaten me, here, after you’ve trespassed on Ferronese land? You are a foreign army, and my soldiers stand here in defense of the empire. This is my province now, and while your position was small recompense for what you did to my family, your life would be a more worthy payment.”
Tristan’s head jerked around to look at his father in surprise, and Avalkyra couldn’t help the smirk that crossed her lips. How little these younglings knew about the past and the world their parents had built—the lies and betrayals that served as its foundation.
“As I recall,” Cassian began, “your sister never complained. She and I were not a good match.”
“My sister is a fool and a simpleton,” Rolan said with disdain. “I don’t care if she prefers not to wed, living in seclusion away from the court and the nobility—it was not for her to decide. Our elders make decisions, form alliances… and it is up to the next generation to see those commitments through. Why, the empire wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for the Five Brides. If everyone flouted their duties and shirked their responsibilities as you did, society itself would crumble.”
Though he didn’t respond, Cassian wore a look of chagrin. Avalkyra wondered if it was for show, meant to placate Rolan and his tirade.
“But the universe has a way of rectifying such slights,” Rolan said, straightening and casting a possessive look at Veronyka. “Anyanke’s hand, as they say.”
Cassian snorted. “I don’t know about Anyanke’s hand, Rolan, but you’ve just shown yours. You covet the throne.”
“The throne is mine by rights. The girl is simply fulfilling her mother’s broken promise and giving me my long-overdue Ashfire bride.”
Tristan’s eyes practically bugged out from his head. The fool hadn’t yet figured it out, but from the look on his father’s face, it was clear that the commander had.
“When the council hears about this, they will come for you,” Cassian said with obvious distaste, “and believe me when I say, they do not punish treason lightly.”
“You would know all about that, wouldn’t you? Don’t fret—I’ll protect my wife, unlike you. And the council won’t hear about this because you’re the one who won’t be leaving here alive.”
Cassian took a step forward. He was taller than Rolan and broader of shoulder. The move was one of intimidation, and it worked. “Yes I will. Without my Riders, you have no villains to pit the empire against, no opposition for this war you so brazenly push for. You need us.”
Avalkyra stared hard at Rolan—he hadn’t foreseen this. He’d welcomed the idea of a fight with the Riders, not realizing that it was a fight he couldn’t win. He did need them, if his plans to take the capital were to come to fruition. He had to get the Riders out of here while keeping Veronyka, but Avalkyra wasn’t sure he could pull it off.
Whatever happened, she could not let Veronyka slip through her fingers again. Avalkyra stretched her awareness wide, seeking the binds she had in place, the only allies she could trust.
