“If your bondmate wants to fight, she can fight,” he said, continuing his rapid pace across the courtyard. “No matter what, she leaves that cell.”
He glanced down at her, and her expression of gratitude was so raw, her eyes so bright, that he almost had to look away. He wanted to hug her, to ruffle her hair or give her a punch on the arm. He settled for something in between, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder. Their brief contact stirred something deep in the pit of Tristan’s stomach, and he realized that Veronyka was Nyk, and Nyk was Veronyka. They were one and the same, and the thought eased something tight in his chest.
They made for the apprentice mounts first. The phoenixes were roosting together on the topmost levels of the Eyrie, huddled in groups or soaring in low, mournful circles in the open air.
Sensing him, Rex cut his flight short and banked hard, landing on the lip of the stone ledge with a rattle of his chain. Veronyka drew back as a wave of heat and glowing sparks settled over them, but Tristan stood his ground—he had to, they didn’t have time to waste.
Rex tossed his head and expelled breaths of hot air, behaving like an angry stallion. Tristan gripped his beak and pulled it down, bringing their eyes on a level.
I need you, he said through the bond, patting him reassuringly with one hand while using the other to fumble with the cuff. I hate to ask, but I need you to fight. To lead.
Rex threatened to ignite right then and there. Tristan wanted to flinch away from it, but he stood his ground—he couldn’t quell Rex’s emotions. He needed to fan the flames. He needed his phoenix to fight hard enough to survive.
“Nyk—the others,” Tristan said, unhitching the cuff and dropping it to the ground with a clang. “I mean, Veronyka.”
“Nyk’s fine,” she said distractedly, pushing past him toward the rest of the phoenixes. Once they saw Rex released, they were eager to greet her, shuffling into a line along the narrow ledge, shaking their wings as they jostled for position.
Tristan spotted Elliot’s mount out of the corner of his eye and hesitated. “You’d better leave Jaxon,” he said, indicating the phoenix perched near the back of the group, his head down and his movements subdued. “That’s Elliot’s mount. I . . . I don’t know what he might do, with his bondmate locked up. He might try to retaliate.”
With a regretful twist of the lips, Veronyka nodded and returned to the others, unhooking the cuffs while Tristan explained the battle to Rex. He emphasized how important it was for him and the rest to stay away from the enemy archers. He showed Rex a mental picture of the ropes and the climbers and stressed that their only mission was to set those ropes alight and then fly to safety. The humans would take care of the other humans. Once the stronghold was secure, Tristan would reevaluate what help they needed at the village gate.
By the time he was finished coaching Rex, Veronyka was unfastening the cuff on the last phoenix, while the rest remained perched on nearby ledges. The phoenixes were instructed by their bondmates to follow Rex’s lead, and so far they didn’t attempt to leave the Eyrie—though Tristan knew they wanted to.
The last leash rattled to the ground, and Veronyka came to stand next to him. He released his hold on Rex.
Tristan had to be brave, for Rex and for the others. He had to control his fear.
Looking inward, Tristan focused on the safe house. He hadn’t tended it much in the past few days, and the neglect showed itself in the way his fear threatened to overtake his mind, even at the thought of all these phoenixes joining them in fiery battle.
Veronyka sidled next to him and put a warm hand on his arm. He looked at her, and he felt something spread through him—a calmness, a strength that didn’t feel entirely his own. Whatever it was, Tristan used it to rebuild the walls and lock his fear safely away.
I control you, he said to his fear, you do not control me.
The last stone in place, Tristan’s heart rate slowed, and Rex crooned next to him in support.
“Thank you,” he whispered to Veronyka, his fear ebbing away, leaving him strong and stable once more.
She squeezed his arm, then released it. Rex flapped his wings in a great gust, stirring up dirt and leaves as he flew across the chasm to perch on the phoenix-shaped platform. The rest of the phoenixes followed him, each emitting a cloud of heat and a hazy glow between their feathers. As soon as they landed, their inner fires winked out, and they stood stony and gray as statues against the black of the night.
Tristan turned to Veronyka. “They’ll await my signal. Let’s go.”
At the bottommost levels of the Eyrie, the females stirred. While Rex’s feelings came to Tristan so powerfully and clearly that they could sometimes be mistaken as his own, the emotions of other phoenixes were like smoke, faint whispers of thoughts and intentions not yet formed or fully realized.
Veronyka took hold of the lock, the metal rattling loudly against the bars. One of the phoenixes, he assumed her bondmate, fluttered forward to greet her. Footsteps sounded to their left, and Ersken moved out of the shadows.
Veronyka froze, but Tristan stepped forward. He was in charge now, and no matter his father’s orders to the contrary, he had to do what was best for the Eyrie. “Stand down, Ersken. We’re releasing one of the females.”
“Just one?” Veronyka asked, dropping the lock.
Tristan took in a steady breath, the noise of the attack above echoing in the distance.
“Yes, Nyk, just one. The others aren’t bonded, and—” He froze, realizing his mistake as Veronyka stiffened. Both turned to Ersken.
“Should I act surprised, then?” he asked, leaning against the bars. “Never seen a phoenix act as this one has, unless they were bonded.”
Veronyka’s eyes darted in Tristan’s direction, but this was her secret to tell.
“I’m not Nyk,” she said, meeting Ersken’s gaze. “I’m Veronyka. And my bondmate is Xephyra.”
Ersken nodded gravely, then fixed her with a gentle smile. “That’s a right queenly name, to be sure.”
“Look,” Tristan said, cutting into their exchange. “We’re only releasing one, because only one is bonded. We have no idea what the others might do.”
“It’s in their nature to fight alongside their fellows . . . ,” Ersken mused, as if it were of no real urgency or importance. “You saw what they were like when we caught these females. The others didn’t like it one bit—and they won’t like it tonight, when arrows come flyin’ at their brothers and sisters.”
“But they won’t understand what’s happening, not like the bonded ones will. They could be killed.”
“Or they could fly away,” Ersken said, eyebrows raised.