His focus sharpened at the familiar phrase, and he gave her his full attention.
“You told me my greatest strength was my magic,” she continued hurriedly, as people rushed back and forth, taking advantage of the lull in climbers to reposition themselves and restock provisions. “But that’s not just me—that’s all of us. This stronghold is full of animages, and it’s full of animals, too. If the phoenixes chose to fight . . . maybe the rest of the animals would too.”
His eyes lit in realization. While not every person who lived at the Eyrie was an animage, most of them were. If they worked together with the animals, from the lowliest mouse and pigeon to the mighty Wind . . .
“Together,” Veronyka added, “we outnumber the soldiers.”
He was nodding, over and over again, and after one final, decisive dip of the head, a hint of a smile appeared on his lips. “Okay.”
Turning to face the courtyard, Tristan cupped his hands and bellowed in a commander-worthy battle voice, calling everyone’s attention. They had mere moments before more ropes would fly up and a new wave of attackers made an attempt on the stronghold. The phoenixes had slowed the climbers down, but they took longer and longer now to build their heat and make their runs, and it was clear that, with two gone, they weren’t enough to keep the stronghold safe.
“Defenders,” Tristan said, looking around at them all, sweaty and bloody and barely keeping it together. The sound of the battle at the village gate was a strange, dissonant contrast to the bubble of silence that enveloped the stronghold—but also a reminder that this was the calm before the next storm. “We have used every weapon and tactic available to us—except one. Who are we? Some of us are soldiers, craftspeople, or cooks; others are Apprentice Riders or even stablehands.” His golden-brown eyes flicked to Veronyka before he continued. “But those are all unnecessary divisions, small pieces of the whole. We are animages, and wherever we come from, we are united, here, in this place we now call home. We are also united in our abilities. Tonight I asked the phoenixes to fight alongside us—and they rallied together to join our cause. Maybe if we ask the other animals of the stronghold to fight with us, they will do the same.”
Whispers spread through the courtyard like leaves in a light breeze. Veronyka closed her eyes and cast her awareness wide, lowering her defenses. There. While the people of the stronghold were confused and unsure, the animals heard Tristan’s rallying cry, felt his intention and the rise of his magic—and responded to it.
“We will not force them,” Tristan said firmly, “but if they choose to help us, we can guide their efforts and ensure they understand the risks. Just as they do in our daily lives, the animals can make us stronger—from phoenixes to messenger pigeons, from warhorses to hounds—no ally is too small, no effort unworthy.”
Veronyka looked around. Many of the animals were afraid and would rather hide among rafters or in dark, quiet cellars, but others . . . Slowly they emerged, slipping between legs and perching on shoulders or ledges. There was a steady thumping sound coming from the stables, and Veronyka found Wind’s familiar, stubborn mind. He was ready to break down his stall door if someone didn’t come and open it for him soon.
The bleak feeling that had so recently overtaken the stronghold changed, shifted. . . . It wasn’t exactly hope, but it was something other than despair, and that was a start.
“If we stand together,” Tristan said, “we can show these empire soldiers what we’re capable of.”
Tristan’s speech ended with the sharp clang of a new grappling hook scraping against the stronghold’s walls. In an instant, the people and animals of the Eyrie responded. Veronyka hurtled down the nearest stairs, almost tripping over the cats and dogs that weaved between her legs. As she burst through the stable doors, unlatching every stall, pigeons and sparrows and doves filled the air.
Outside, Veronyka stared as her most recent reckless plan came to fruition. She joined in where she could, sending flocks of birds left and packs of dogs right. She’d expected to have to do more, but the animals were focused and ready to fight.
Messenger pigeons gouged the eyes of climbing soldiers, while falcons shrieked and dove, beaks tearing and claws scraping flesh.
Instead of weary villagers with serrated kitchen knives, cats scratched and clawed at the climbing ropes—and at any unwary soldier who managed to crest the wall—and a barrage of dogs and horses barreled into the village through the open postern door.
Veronyka climbed the wall again just in time to see a soldier try his hand at running through the ruins of the village gate—only to be surprised by the giant bloodhound that leapt through the gap, colliding with him in midair and tackling him to the ground.
Llamas carried supplies and weapons, while the horses dragged heavy beams and wagons to try to shore up the village gate’s barricade. Veronyka even saw Sparrow hacking at a rope, Chirp perched next to her, biting and tugging at the loose threads.
Veronyka’s heart filled with triumphant glee. Fighting alongside her animal friends was terrifying, but it felt right. They were natural-born allies, and like Tristan said, they were stronger together. Let the empire think them weak and defenseless without their Phoenix Riders—they would show them exactly how much damage animages could do.
I thought I lost my sister when a stray arrow pierced her chest, but I’d lost her long before then.
- CHAPTER 40 -
VERONYKA
JUST LIKE THE PHOENIXES, the animal reinforcements worked—for a time. Veronyka’s stomach clenched painfully when she saw the first dog run through with an enemy spear, and her heart lurched each time a messenger pigeon was shot down from the sky. Everywhere she looked, she saw fur and feathers stained with blood, and bodies of all shapes and sizes were strewn across the ground.
The phoenixes continued to circle and dive, but the death of Xoe had made them hesitant, and even Xephyra had lost some of her aggression.
It wasn’t going to be enough. They had done everything they could to last, to endure, but their defenders were dying, human and animal alike, and still, no saviors came to rescue them.
When the newly built barricade at the village gate came crashing down, Veronyka knew they were out of time.
If the soldiers got into the village, they’d burn and destroy until they reached the stronghold. Its walls were taller and more solidly built than the village, but its gate hadn’t been reinforced, and they didn’t have the numbers to properly defend it.
If the soldiers got into the village, all was lost.