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.
When no one was looking his way, Sev slipped back into the trees with the llama in tow, disappearing in a flap of ferns and bowing branches.
His heart hammered in his ears, the thump of adrenaline so loud, he didn’t hear the footsteps of the person who followed him.
An arrow through the heart, and my world went up in flames.
- CHAPTER 16 -
VERONYKA
THE FIRST FEW DAYS at Azurec’s Eyrie were a blur, though most of what Veronyka did remember revolved around food. Never in her life had she been able to eat as much as she wanted—and even go back for seconds—for every meal of the day, and that wasn’t including the extra sweet cakes and fresh rolls Morra slipped her every time she passed the kitchens. The cook didn’t like to see people who looked underfed—particularly not young Pyraean children.
It was somewhat of a shock for Veronyka to realize that she’d never been properly full in her whole life. With it came a pang of sadness for the girl she used to be, hungry and scared and alone. Guilt threatened to surface when she remembered that Val was likely still living that way, but she refused to let it take hold. They could have had this life together if Val had ever listened to Veronyka or let her weigh in on their decisions. Veronyka had earned this comfort, and she was determined to enjoy it.
Her work as a stablehand kept her busy, running errands and tending animals from dawn until dusk, and she was so tired that she usually fell into bed at the end of each day—though she’d had to adjust to doing so in a room with over twenty other people. That also meant shoring up her mental defenses, lest she be plagued with dreams about families, hobbies, and romances that were not her own.
Her duties took her all over the stronghold and village, and she wasn’t just in charge of mucking out the stables, as she had expected; she was responsible for the welfare of every animal they had. That meant the horses and hunting dogs, the llamas that provided wool and served as beasts of burden, and the pigeons that carried messages across the mountain. They took care of goats, rabbits, chickens, and even the cats that kept the stronghold free of mice and rats.