The commander’s horse stood his ground, nostrils flaring, but otherwise showed no sign of fear or panic. The phoenix landed mere feet in front of them, burning feathers turning the air around him into rippling heat waves. Then, to Veronyka’s surprise, the phoenix bowed his great head toward the horse and his rider. The commander dismounted and calmly greeted his phoenix with a pat to his flaming neck. Xephyra had been too young to ignite, so even though Veronyka knew that protection from your phoenix’s fire was a part of the bond magic, she was still amazed that the heat had no effect on him.
With a final flap of his wings, Maximian put his flames out, and the commander faced the apprentices.
“For today we will forego the finale and focus on getting through the course without incident. Now choose your mounts.”
Veronyka and the rest of the stablehands stood aside as the apprentices stepped through the gate of the paddock. While the messenger birds and hounds were shared by all, the horses would belong to one rider alone, so they had to be careful to choose an animal that suited them.
At once, the air around Veronyka filled with the presence of each apprentice’s animal magic, their mental conversations with the horses like whispered words just out of earshot. Though Veronyka frequently crossed paths with the apprentices, usually inside the stables or at mealtimes, she didn’t know any of them very well yet. Still, she had put some names to faces—there was Tristan, of course, and Elliot, the steward’s assistant. She always saw him walking around the stronghold, either tight on Beryk’s heels or running his errands at all hours of the day. There was Anders—tall and lanky, with prominent ears and a near-constant smile on his face—and Ronyn, one of the Pyraean apprentices. Staring at his bristly close-cropped black hair, Veronyka wondered if he’d cut off his braids to join them, as she had done, or if he’d never worn any at all.
While Jana moved around, offering her expertise and advice on a horse’s skills or temperament, Veronyka and the rest of the stablehands waited off to the side in case any of the apprentices had questions or the horses misbehaved.
Every time an apprentice stepped toward Wind, he would stomp his hooves and toss his head, snorting irritably until the apprentice moved on. Veronyka worried that no one would choose him and that the horse might be sent back to the breeder.
While Wind’s disposition seemed to push the other apprentices away, it actually drew Tristan toward him. He watched curiously as the horse deterred several of his fellows in a row, his brow furrowed in consideration, before stepping up himself.
While the apprentices varied in age and skill, Tristan was clearly top among them. Every morning Veronyka saw them running together on her way to breakfast, Tristan in the lead. They practiced their weapon and fighting skills in the training yard, and Tristan defeated every opponent, whether it was a fellow Apprentice Rider, a Master Rider, or even a stronghold guard. He was an expert at archery, spear and knife fighting, and hand-to-hand combat, and Veronyka was curious to see if his competency extended to his magic.
He waited patiently as Wind had his little tantrum, all the while emanating a calm—but firm—presence. The horse eventually relaxed, and Tristan moved close enough to let the animal sniff his hands and face. When it was clear Wind wouldn’t bite, he patted the horse on his long, spotted nose. Then out of his pocket came a carrot, and Veronyka couldn’t help but grin as Wind snuffled along Tristan’s arm before snatching it up.
Clearly Wind had found his rider, and Tristan his mount.
Intrigued by their quick connection, Veronyka reached out to Wind, wanting to get his measure of the apprentice. Had his affection been bought with a carrot, or did stubborn, surly Wind perhaps recognize a kindred spirit in stubborn, surly Tristan?
In order to communicate with an animal, an animage had to open a doorway or channel in their mental walls, a passage for their magic to pass through. These were temporary and disappeared almost instantly after the animage released it—except with a bondmate, of course. That passageway was permanent, strong, and stable. Until it was severed entirely.
Taking a deep breath, Veronyka found Wind’s consciousness, a familiar mix of sweet and stubborn. The more she interacted with an animal, the more easily the channel opened, and connecting with Wind was almost effortless.
The problem with reaching out is that it leaves the animage vulnerable. If they aren’t completely focused, the chatter of other animals can slip in by mistake, weakening the connection to the first and making it difficult to maintain control.
And if the animage has shadow magic as well? Then it’s not just animal minds the person has to worry about.
Before Veronyka knew what was happening, Tristan’s thoughts began to infiltrate her mental barriers.
She was experiencing them through Wind—or at least that’s how she perceived it. She was only hearing his interactions with the animal, not the full scope of his mind.
These weren’t projected feelings, like the odd snatches of words and fragmented feelings that the other apprentices unconsciously released into the air. Veronyka had somehow become intertwined in the passageway that Tristan had established between him and Wind. She knew she should pull back—she hadn’t meant to eavesdrop like this—and yet she didn’t.
It was oddly thrilling to actively use the magic she’d spent her whole life fighting against—even though she didn’t really know what she was doing. But after a moment of confusion, a haze of muddled feelings and extraneous thoughts, she found the thread of his interactions with Wind. He was sending out waves of compliments and praise, of encouragement and promises to be kind. She even discerned the words “xe xie.”
Tristan spoke to the horse the same way that she would to one of her own animal friends—not forcefully or imperiously, but with kindness and respect. She was surprised, given his explosive temper and haughty attitude toward her. Just as Veronyka’s impression of him rose, the commander came up behind him, and the nature of his unspoken words changed. They turned hard, firm, and authoritative.
Wind bucked back abruptly, and Veronyka found herself ejected from his thoughts and disconnected from Tristan as well.
She frowned. One minute he was being kind, the next, dominating.
After the commander moved on, Tristan’s stiff posture relaxed, and Veronyka assumed that firm control must be what they taught them here, even though she had never found it effective. Gaining an animal’s permanent respect versus its immediate obedience had always seemed the smarter way to go. Val had never agreed, and neither, it seemed, did the commander.
Tristan notified Jana of his selection, then joined the rest of the apprentices who had chosen their horses and were now adjusting weapons and strapping on their gear.
The boy named Anders was to go first, and as he mounted up and called a hound and a pigeon, the rest of the apprentices gathered in a group to observe his run, their own horses waiting safely inside the paddock until their name was called.