“We’re mirror images of each other—have you noticed?” Kade asked, tilting his head as he studied Sev. “Same age, same size—more or less,” he added, his lips quirking into a half grin. They might be the same height, but Kade definitely outweighed and outmuscled him. “And here we are, in the exact same place, but opposite sides of the looking glass. Soldier and bondservant.”
“We’re not on opposite sides,” Sev protested. “Not anymore.” He needed Kade to see that. He’d thought all the same things about them, their differences and their strange similarities, but Sev wanted to bridge the gap.
Kade nodded, though his face had turned grim again. “I just . . . Well, I don’t want to see you throw your life away trying to prove something to me—to anyone. You . . .” His mouth twisted, as if he was searching for words. “You already proved yourself to me.”
“I did?” Sev asked, fighting down the wild hope that was building up inside him. “How?”
Kade shrugged, a determinedly offhand gesture. “First you came back. Then you stayed.”
Sev’s throat was thick, and he needed a moment to collect himself. “Even if I die, I’m not throwing my life away,” Sev said, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. “I just want . . .”
His arm dropped, and it felt oddly heavy by his side. Sev went to raise it, to reach for something . . . but he found he lost his courage partway, and it hovered in the air between them.
“I just want to rest easy when I die—whether that’s today, tomorrow, or in a hundred years—knowing that I did the right thing for once in my gods-damned life. That I finally made the right choice. I want to stand with people I’m not ashamed to stand next to. . . . I want to stand with you.”
He couldn’t meet Kade’s eyes, so instead Sev’s focus had landed on the hollow between his collarbones, where his pendant hung. Sev wanted to read it, to know Kade’s sentence and his crime, but the edge of his tunic covered the words. The day was still hot, and sweat glistened on his skin as his throat bobbed up and down in a swallow.
“What I can’t figure out,” Kade began, his voice soft and rich, “is why hating you was easy, but liking you has been . . .”
“Been what?” Sev asked, somewhat breathless at the idea that Kade liked him.
“Difficult,” Kade said, his expression intent. He took a step forward, pushing into Sev’s outstretched hand, causing Sev’s fingers to splay against his chest. They stared at each other, and Sev stepped backward—not a retreat, but a question. An invitation.
After a breath of hesitation, Kade followed him. Sev’s next step brought him to the exterior wall of the cave, the stone cold and slightly damp against his back.
Kade filled the space between them, filled it with his rich brown skin and gemstone eyes and those wide, impossibly broad shoulders. Sev was trembling, the pressure against his palm making him want to both push Kade away and pull him nearer, nearer, until all was obliterated except for them.
The sunlight was gone from Kade’s face, but the warmth remained. His eyes became hooded, his lips parted ever so slightly, and Sev’s fingers clenched against the muscle of his chest. Slowly, as if not to spook him, Kade raised his arms, one on either side of Sev, and placed his hands against the stone, caging them in.
They stayed frozen in that shining golden moment for what felt like ages—or maybe it was several heavy, weighted heartbeats. Just when Sev had mustered the courage to close his eyes and lean in, the roll call sounded.
As if pulling his head out of water, Sev returned to their surroundings. He had to check in with Ott, his squad leader. After that Trix’s plans would begin.
Sev’s hand went to the back of his neck again, and Kade’s arms dropped.
“You know the names?” Kade asked, his voice as slow and smooth as honey. Sev became lost in it, and it took time for his brain to understand what Kade was asking. The perimeter guard roster for that night—the packs he was meant to poison.
Sev cleared his throat. “I’ll get them now.” The duty roster was usually drawn up in the morning, but with the impending attack, all their schedules had been shifted.
Kade dipped his head in response. “I’ll leave you to it.”
As the sun disappeared over Pyrmont’s distant peaks, the cooks began preparing the evening meal. Pots were hung over cook fires, kettles began to boil, and poison was sprinkled in.
Sev pressed a hand against his pocket, where a lump indicated the small supply he’d already been given. Two pinches of the poison per waterskin and three for any barley cakes or dried meat. The powdered petals of the Fire Blossom would dissolve best in the liquid, but even a dusting of it atop other supplies, once rewrapped in cloth or pouch, would begin to emit noxious fumes that would penetrate the food. The watch shift changed at sundown, and Sev knew he had no more than ten minutes to attend to the packs.
The names from the duty roster were like midges, buzzing around his head. He’d seen death before, but he had dealt it only by accident. He’d yet to engage in any real battle as a soldier, and Sev found he was having difficulty with the idea of killing in such a cold, calculated way. He didn’t know any of the targets particularly well—did that make it right? It made it easier, but Sev couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. These soldiers might have children, parents, brothers, and sisters—entire lives tethered to them. In comparison, he felt like some kind of wraith—tied to nothing and no one.
Not anymore, Sev insisted, forcing his mind to remain on the task and not on the soldiers. Sev wasn’t killing for pleasure or personal gain; he was doing this for the Phoenix Riders, the only protectors his people had. He was part of Trix’s re-formed rebellion, part of an “us” at long last.
As the noise of the campsite faded into the background, Sev made his way over to the pack animals. They had ten lookouts tonight—not because they were camped in a particularly vulnerable position, but rather, because they were so close to the Phoenix Rider lair.
Sev looked up into the sky, scraps of it visible between the trees and rocky caves, and gathered his courage. He thought of his parents, sacrificing themselves for him and for other animages. He thought of Kade and Trix, of Junior and Tilla and Corem—of all the bondservants—who deserved freedom.
He could do this.
Sev identified eight out of the ten packs with ease. Their personal effects were an extension of their very lives, and Sev imagined himself cutting the threads that connected the object to the person as he carefully poisoned their stores. The crumpled petals stuck to his fingers and left a dark, reddish smear the color of blood. It was one of the reasons Trix had wanted to poison the evening meal and not breakfast. In the darkness, the traces of the poison would be far more difficult to see.
Once the eighth pack was tended to, Sev considered the ninth name, the one he couldn’t match. He was one of several soldiers who traveled without any personal items and only the most meager of supplies. There were around a dozen packs like that, and Sev didn’t have enough to poison them all.
Time was ticking on. The soldiers would come for their packs at any moment to relieve the current perimeter guards. He had to make a decision.
The steady rumble of the distant campsite was interrupted by a sudden piercing whistle.
Sev froze; this wasn’t a part of the plan.
Another whistle answered the first. Sev craned his neck to see the cooks and attendants pause in their work while the soldiers stood, heads turned toward the east.
Then a stream of armed soldiers poured through the trees, descending upon their camp.
We’re under attack, Sev thought wildly, the fear so sudden and true that his insides turned to water and cold sweat scraped across his forehead.
But the newcomers weren’t challenged or rebuffed—they were welcomed as friends with smiles and clasped hands. Captain Belden stood outside his tent, ready to greet the arriving party’s leader.
The truth crashed down on Sev like a thousand tons of rock: They weren’t the onl
y empire soldiers heading up the mountain.
His mind reeled. They didn’t have enough poison for all these soldiers, and even if they did, the new arrivals likely brought provisions and servants of their own.
Trix had been reading some of the captain’s letters, but not all of them. Clearly this was information she had missed. All this time, they’d assumed they were a small strike force meant to deal the Phoenix Riders a stealthy—but still fatal—blow. But now, with twice their original numbers, maybe even more, they were a significantly larger threat. They couldn’t march directly to the top of the mountain together—two hundred was a difficult enough number to conceal—so they’d had to travel separately to the same meeting point, ensuring they were both ready to attack at the same time.
Sev looked around, terror ratcheting his heartbeat to a painful rhythm. It was too late to call everything off; the dinner pots and waterskins had already been poisoned, and it was only a matter of time before their contents were eaten and their ill effects shown.
At the mouth of the nearest cave, one of the cooks tried to dump her pot, while a bondservant poured extra flour into a bowl of batter. If diluted, they might make only a few guards sick and spare their lives. All around Sev there was feverish panic, while the glint of steel and the tread of heavy boots muffled the rush of whispers and the sight of Trix’s cohorts trying to abort their plan. A secondary line of pack animals and the bondservants who managed them came into view, making their way toward Sev. He looked for Kade or Trix or anybody he recognized, but they were lost in the crowd.
As the arriving soldiers settled into their camp, stew was served up, bread was fried, and waterskins were passed around. The Fire Blossoms were meant to work within thirty minutes, ensuring that everyone in the camp would be eating by the time the effects started to show.
The leader of the second party joined Captain Belden in his tent, and Sev wondered how his presence might complicate Trix’s plans—if she still intended to go through with them. If they managed to kill both captains, would that be enough to put a halt to the attack? Even if it was, it wouldn’t guarantee the survival of the bondservants. There were too many soldiers now, too many packs and stewpots and mouths to feed. It was a disaster, and all Sev could do was wait for it to unfold.
It started with retching.
Followed by gagging, spitting, and cursed complaints of stomach pains.
Then several soldiers ran into the forest or the darkness of the caverns, staggering off to empty their stomachs or their bowels.
Sev didn’t know what was worse: the sound or the smell.
Others followed those that didn’t come back, and soon waterskins and liquor jugs were sniffed and poured out. Rust-colored smears dyed the fingers of the soldiers who examined the contents, and bowls of food were dumped into the grass.
Shouts, cries, and accusations. The food was disgusting; the food was spoiled.
The food was poisoned.
Once those words were uttered, the camp dissolved into chaos. Attendants and cooks were rounded up, dragged through the dirt and grass and thrown onto their knees. Sev saw crying servants, begging for mercy, executed with blades across their throats, while those who tried to run were taken down with arrows or spears. Sev squeezed his eyes shut, praying Junior and the others had the sense to keep quiet and stay out of the way. The bondservants didn’t officially have anything to do with meal preparation, but they did manage the transportation of the food supplies, and it seemed that everyone except for the soldiers was under scrutiny.
The packs! Sev remembered, whirling around. With the new soldiers arriving, no one had come to relieve the perimeter guard yet. If he managed to hide the evidence of what he’d done, he could hopefully save the bondservants on pack animal duty from suspicion. He pushed through the crush of llamas—who tossed their heads and stomped their feet in the face of all the commotion from the camp—struggling to find the supplies he’d tampered with.
Sev was fumbling with a strap when footsteps sounded behind him. They were uneven, stumbling, and with a slight drag.
He turned and saw Ott standing there, wavering slightly on the spot, sweat dotting his brow and what looked like a smear of vomit across his chin. Sev wasn’t surprised to see him sick—he never missed a chance to be first in line to get food, drink, or his choice of assignment. He held his trusty crossbow loosely in one hand, as if he could attack the poison that was slowly killing him from the inside.
Ott blinked at Sev, gaze drifting from his hands—halfway inside the nearest pack—to the food on the ground, which Sev had hastily dropped and stomped on. He lurched forward, faster than Sev would have thought possible given the state he was in, and gripped Sev’s arm. Ott yanked Sev’s hand from the pack, twisting it to reveal the dark-red smears across his fingers.
Shoving the arm back with a sneer, Ott raised the crossbow, leveling it directly at Sev’s forehead.
“Traitor,” he slurred.
“Ott,” Sev said, glancing to either side of him. He was blocked in on all sides, the llamas a mass of woolly bodies who skittered and shuffled nervously. His other hand was still inside the satchel, and he tried to surreptitiously check for a weapon or something heavy, anything he might use to help him escape. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I—”
“Shut your mouth!” Ott shouted, his voice hoarse. Around him, the llamas’ panic was a palpable taste on Sev’s tongue, and his own fear was ripe.
Ott bent double and coughed, lowering the crossbow as he hacked and spit. Sev tried to make a run for it, but Ott had the weapon back up the moment he saw Sev shift his feet.
“Don’t—you—dare,” he forced out. More footsteps sounded nearby, and Ott perked up. “Hey, hey, over here!” he called frantically, but his voice was too weak to carry. He took a deep breath and filled his lungs before calling out again, “Over here. I caught—”
Ott’s words were cut off by a loud crunch. Out of nowhere, a heavy branch cracked into his head, knocking him to the dirt in an unconscious heap.
Standing over his prone body was Kade.
He tossed aside the stick and picked up Ott’s dropped crossbow.
Then he aimed it directly at Sev’s heart.
I cared not for the romantic love of men and women. All I wanted was the throne that was my birthright and to have Pheronia by my side. She would be my heir, and her children after her.
- CHAPTER 32 -
SEV
NO, KADE’S CROSSBOW WASN’T aimed at Sev’s heart, but at his shoulder.
Before Sev had a chance to inhale, a bolt whizzed by his head and landed with a thump, right into the chest of another soldier sneaking up behind him. He whirled, gasping, his brain catching up with the thunderous pump of his heart. It was Jotham; he lay on the ground, blood spreading from the quarrel embedded in his ribs. The llamas skittered away from the noise and the body—though Sev suspected Kade was calming them; otherwise they’d probably have trampled the pair of them in panic.
True night had fallen, and by the time Sev looked up from the corpse, he could barely see Kade as he took Sev’s arm and dragged him away. They left the pack animals and ducked behind the same copse of trees where they’d spoken privately together mere hours before.
Sev stared numbly at the chaos of the camp, just barely glimpsed between the branches, until he realized Kade was no longer next to him. There was a steep slope down to the waterfall and the gurgling pool, and there Kade crouched, silhouetted in the mist that rose from the water.
He was digging.
His shock receding, Sev scrambled after him, skidding down as quickly and quietly as he could. Did Kade mean to bury Jotham’s and Ott’s bodies? What would be the point, when the entire camp was about to be a graveyard?
Once he came to a stop next to Kade, Sev saw half-empty sacks of grain sprawled in the darkness beside Ott’s abandoned crossbow, their golden contents spread across the ground like scattered stars.
And there, piled on the ground
next to them, were a dozen smooth gray rocks. But the way Kade handled them, delicately and with both hands, told Sev that they were more than just stones. This must have been what Kade was doing when he heard Ott accost Sev. But what was he doing?
Their eyes met, Kade’s features barely distinguishable in the twilight. “Those aren’t rocks, are they?” Sev whispered.
Kade slowly shook his head and held one up for Sev to see more closely. Its surface was rounded, like a stone found in a riverbed, its shape carefully smoothed after years under the steady flow of water. In fact, the shape reminded Sev of—
“Eggs,” Kade said, his tone was almost reverent. “Phoenix eggs.”
Sev’s mind flashed back to the conversation he’d had with Trix, when she’d said Sev had almost ruined everything after his failed escape attempt. He’d figured she was talking about getting Kade in trouble, but maybe it was more than that. These sacks of grain, were they concealing these priceless treasures all along? Had Sev unwittingly almost stolen a llama loaded with phoenix eggs?
Shouts echoed from the campsite, and Kade hastily put the egg into the small ditch he’d dug.
“I was supposed to take them to the Riders,” he said, reaching to add the others. “I’ve been watching these eggs from the moment we left Aura Nova, never letting them out of my sight—well, until your escape attempt. But now . . . I don’t think any of us are getting out of here alive.” He swallowed, eyes frantic. “I can’t risk them being discovered. All of this,” he said, his voice heavy with defeat, “for nothing.”
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