If Riders needed to fly out on an overnight journey—or travel a long distance—they would often have an accompanying land party with pack animals and extra supplies. The phoenixes needed to rest, and so did the Riders, so such provisions were necessary. They also occasionally scouted from horseback, allowing them to travel to more heavily populated areas, with their phoenixes reporting from the safety of the sky. As animages, they needed to be masters of more than just their bonded animals—they needed to be masters of every beast in their service, including messenger birds and even the dogs that served them in the hunt.
“Horse mastery,” the commander continued, “has been an integral part of Rider training for centuries. As warriors of the highest sort, Riders were trained in warfare both on land and in the sky. While most of you are competent on horseback, none of you have practiced control of all your animals simultaneously.”
Veronyka’s ears perked up—finally she was going to see some real magic at work. Thus far, from what she’d glimpsed, the commander’s training program seemed to focus on honing their skills as warriors over their abilities as animages. The sight had left her disheartened, as she had no weapons or combat experience. If ever she was to join their ranks, she’d be at a major disadvantage. Veronyka’s single best skill was her use of magic, and she was eager to see how she would measure up.
“The horse of a Phoenix Rider must be comfortable in the presence of not only his rider, but whatever other beasts his master requires—including, of course, his phoenix. This is not an easy task and will take weeks of training and discipline, starting now.”
A gust of warm wind rippled through Veronyka’s hair, and a phoenix landed on the ground in front of them.
It was the commander’s mount, Maximian. He must have been circling high above them all this time or perched on one of the jagged spears of rock just out of sight. Though Veronyka had already seen him close up, the first time had been in the crowded clearing on the mountainside. Now, in the wide open, she was free to appreciate his magnificence. This wasn’t a juvenile like Xephyra had been, still small enough for Veronyka to hold in her arms. This was a full-grown phoenix, just as majestic on foot in the morning sunlight as soaring through the night sky on wings of fire. His plumage held more variations of red than Veronyka had ever seen in her life, each feather shimmering and jewel-bright, with fiery orange and brilliant yellow tipping his crest and long tail feathers. The phoenix’s rib cage was about the size of those belonging to the horses behind them, who whinnied and neighed at the sight of the gargantuan firebird, while his wingspan was more than twice their length. His body shape was similar to an eagle’s, with thick, wide-set legs and a short, strong neck. His eyes glimmered like black gems, and his hooked beak shone like gold.
One of the stablehands told her that after the war Cassian had gone willingly into custody, claiming his bondmate had died in the fighting, so Maximian could hide safely somewhere in the mountains. Some bonded pairs could remain in magical contact over thousands of miles, depending on the strength of their connection. When there was a permanent link, things like eye contact and physical distance, which were helpful when trying to use animal or shadow magic, were far less important. Still, it was a difficult thing to accomplish. Veronyka hadn’t known it while they lived together—Val accidentally let the truth slip later—but her maiora’s phoenix had been alive their entire time in Aura Nova. In order to protect Val and Veronyka and to keep their identities as animages—and hers as a Rider and once-servant to Avalkyra Ashfire—a secret, her grandmother stayed in the capital city, while her phoenix remained in Pyra. Her maiora’s capture had lured her phoenix back to her side, and she was killed as she tried to defend her bondmate.
Veronyka had cried often for her maiora in the weeks that followed her death, but she’d cried for her phoenix, too. She wondered how many others might be living the same way . . . separate from their bondmates to avoid persecution or unable to reconnect because of bondage or the travel restrictions. Some people might have chosen to remain with their families over their phoenix, unable to get out of the empire or unwilling to leave livelihoods behind. It was a dark thought, at odds with the blue-sky day and the sight of the phoenix before her.
“You will watch Maximian and me complete the course, and then you will do the same. I do not expect perfection on your first attempt—but you should be expecting it of yourselves.”
Encouraging, Veronyka thought as another wave of emotion splashed against her from the apprentices. Never had she been surrounded by so many animages all in one place, their emotions high and their magic strong, battering against her like a windstorm. She wished, not for the first time, that Val had taught her more about shadow magic.
The commander expertly navigated the obstacles, which seemed relatively simple—if he were just on horseback. That, however, was not the purpose of the exercise. Before he began, he ordered the paddock gate opened and the pigeon cage unlocked, calling a hound to his heels and a messenger pigeon to his shoulder. Doing the course with a phoenix soaring above, while keeping a skittish bird on his shoulder and an eager dog trotting alongside him, was another thing entirely.
As he worked, the commander spoke calmly but loudly, indicating various details of what he was doing and why it was important.
“You must guide the horse without the reins, so that your weapons will be within easy reach at all times,” he announced, drawing his bow to hit a target halfway down the first leg of the course. Veronyka darted a glance at Petyr. . . . Apparently the bridle wasn’t necessary after all.
Next the commander leapt several barrels, while keeping his bird calm and relaxed on his shoulder and his dog from running off in pursuit of the caged rabbits, their scent a tantalizing distraction on the wind. His phoenix continued to circle overhead, acting as a scout and guide and keeping him informed of any approaching Riders or threats.
“However,” the commander said, on his way back toward the group after completing the roughly oval-shaped course, “there may come a time when horse and phoenix must work together, and as we all know, with phoenixes come fire.”
A piercing stab of fear broke through Veronyka’s mental barriers, so sudden and powerful that she turned, seeking the source. Tristan stood directly behind her, jaw set and sweat dotting his brow. Did the emotion come from him, or from one of the other apprentices clustered nearby?
Maximian dropped into a sudden dive, emitting an ear-splitting shriek as his entire body burst into flame. The sight was so awe-inspiring that Veronyka almost forgot her duty, and she sent delayed thoughts of calm and safety to the nervous horses shifting and stamping in the paddock behind her.