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Elexis’s was a huge Tobiano stallion, with a glossy coat in chestnut skewbald, and the most neatly groomed wings she’d ever seen.
And the steed that stood beside Zosime was a majestic thing—a smoke-black stallion, with a lean body and eyes that gave her far more attention than the others. To Teigra’s shock, she now realized he was a thundermane, a breed of wild horses found only in the Stormkiller Mountains. They were fabled to be near impossible to tame. She’d only ever read descriptions of their distinctive ears, shaped like spear tips, though she’d long dreamed of seeing one in person.
Those three were lightly packed, with four-horn saddles and scabbards for weapons. This was in sharp contrast to the fourth, which carried great bags all the way down to its strong knees.
Teigra’s eyes bulged. For a moment, she was back in familiar stables.
It was a Zante mare, with hair of blood bay and wings that glinted gold in the light. It wasn’t Astrapi, her faithful friend, but it could easily have been a sturdier cousin. It gave her a curious look through kindly eyes, as well as the gentlest flutter of her wings.
“Here,” said Zosime, handing her the reins. “You can ride Varas.”
“Ride? Ride where?” she said, staring at the straps but not taking them. “And come to think of it, why do you even have pegasi! I haven’t seen another one the whole time I’ve been in Ardora.”
“Oh,” said Elexis, looking excited to tell the story. “So, a few years back we were doing a job for this big shot in Mavelix, and the journey took us to the Emphanisi Springs—”
“Shhh,” hissed Pikra. “She doesn’t need to know about all that, thick skull!”
“Oh, right! The whole deception thing.”
“Deception?” said Teigra. “What deception?”
Elexis and Pikra kept their mouths shut.
Zosime stood unmoved, arm still holding out the reins. “We can’t just stay on a floating coffin,” she said to Teigra. “We have a mission to get to. And the only way to do that is to get the hippocamps back.”
Zosime gave the reins a slight shake. There was no speech. No motivational spur. But the implication was clear.
I know damn well that you haven’t ridden solo for three years, she seemed to say. And I know why. But I won’t say anything to the others. Instead, I’m giving you a chance to get on this steed and show me how nonpathetic you truly are.
It was the final test. The final chance to prove herself.
The thought of riding again after so long caused her stomach to drop. After all, the last time she’d done that...
But Zosime was right. They had a mission. If they didn’t leave now, they might miss Xiber entirely, and then all of Mestibes would be denied the warning of what was coming.
All because of her? All because she was too pathetic to get on a horse?
Are you a delicate little flower, Teigra? Or are you a rose with fucking thorns?
Doing her best to silence old nightmares, she took the reins.
90
AURELIUS
“Securia is an eidolon?” hissed Aurelius, as Calix guided him through the streets by hand, having to duck behind shadowy doorways as members of the mob ran by. He had tied the scraps of fabric around himself as best he could, gathering several torn strips into a twist by his heart and closing it with the eternal rose pin—the delicate glass somehow free of further damage.
The pin gifted by the woman who just killed the king...
“How many therians are there in this fucking city?” asked Aurelius.
“That I know of? Just us three,” said Calix.
“And she knew that you were one too?”
“Yes. After I returned from Sama, she came to me. She got me through those first few months. She taught me about the Sable Moon Sanctum—about keeping the beast at bay. Zosime is the one who locks me away, but Ramuna was the one who kept me in check.”
“It seems she failed to heed her own lessons,” he muttered, as they moved through the more expensive districts. “And where are we going?”
