Chapter 1
Tending to the birds in the Aviary is always the worst part of my day, especially in high summer. It's not that the work is grueling or tough, especially in comparison to some of the larger animals House Viper claims as their own, but the heat in the birdhouse is almost unbearable. The Aviary is as much a greenhouse as it is a birdhouse, meant to mimic some of the conditions where the birds would live out in the wild. In the end its barely more than a large domed cage made of thick glass. Every time I enter I feel like an ant under a magnifying glass in the sun.
Still, it's not all bad. The birds are incredible to look at, especially in flight, and a few of them sing so beautifully they could put the best silver performers to shame. At the very least, taking care of the birds is rather easy. Just a quick feed is all it takes most days before I can escape the sweltering heat.
That's not the case today. Today Atara Viper is here, and she's nothing if not controlling. Sometimes I think it's her purpose to make my life more difficult, despite the fact that I know that I'm damn near indispensable to the entire Viper Household.
"You're feeding them too much," she says coldly, her favorite falcon perched on an outstretched arm. It feels unnatural to see the bird so docile. It bears the eyes of a hunter, even while being restrained by the Animos' silver ability. With gorgeous tawny brown and white feathers and razor sharp talons, Atara's falcon is likely one of the most dangerous animals alive. Faster than even a silver swift, it's been trained to kill in the blink of an eye, yet here she sits calmly, preening under the attention of her equally dangerous owner.
"Sorry miss," I stammer, though I couldn't possibly disagree with her more. It's not up to a red like me to challenge a silver. Despite my usefulness, that would be one of the quickest ways for me to lose my life.
"Don't apologize, red," Atara hisses like only a Viper can, "just be better. What good are they going to be if they become fat and slow?"
I have to bite my tongue to keep from answering back, but practice makes perfect, and by now I'm an expert in hiding my annoyance from the silvers. If there's one thing I hate more than any other, its hearing a member of House Viper speak as if their animals are nothing more than tools to be used at their whim. I guess to them, that's all anyone is, be it a red they can order around, or an animal they can force to serve.
"Of course, miss, it won't happen again," I say, ever the obedient servant.
"See that it doesn't. Even a trained red is still a red, and there's plenty more where you come from."
No, there isn't.
I slowly bow as I walk away, mostly as a way to hide the smirk I can't help from appearing on my face. Though she's partially right, even Atara knows that I'm slightly less disposable than the other red servants. There's no other red with even close to my knowledge and experience with their animals, and it would be a major inconvenience for them to have to train another. If there's one thing silvers don't like, it's an inconvenience. Life should always be perfect for our Silver Elite.
I leave the aviary quickly, not wanting to give Atara any more ammunition, despite the fact that when it comes to her animals, she's almost always wrong. Hell, if I'm really honest, she probably knows herself that she's wrong, but she would never miss an opportunity to prove herself superior to a lowly red.
At least now with the birds finished, I can get on with the best part of my day, which is seeing to some of the other animals. Spitfire is the best, a sleek black jaguar with sharp fangs and graceful movement that couldn't be matched by the most powerful silver silks.
Of course, Spitfire is only my name for him. The Silvers don't name their animal slaves, not when they're likely only to send them into battle to die in their place. I've known Spitfire for longer than most of the animals here, since he arrived as just a small cub. But he had the most vivid ice blue eyes that I couldn't help but name him for the boy I'd once loved.
"Hello, Spitfire," I murmur softly, careful so no-one can hear me use my own name for one of their playthings. "How are you today?"
As always, the jaguar lifts his head to lazily watch me from the inside of his enclosure, his soulful blue eyes never leaving my face. I know logically that to him I'm nothing but prey, but looking into his eyes I can just picture the face of the boy he's named for, a pale silver with glossy black hair and unblemished skin. If I try to remember, I can just hear the faintest whisper of my name leaving his lips.
Thomas.
As much happiness as the memories bring, they also make me unquestionably sad. My time with him was so fleeting, but undoubtedly the happiest time in my life, but ended in such tragic disaster. And now the boy has become a King, and despite what lies he spreads through the country, I know he's committed atrocities to reach the position. The boy I know could never have done such things, and it's devastating to know that Maven would be totally unrecognizable to me now, and I don't mean physically.
I wonder how much of that is my fault? It may be all of it, or just a little, but I know that what happened definitely didn't help the psyche of the boy who became King.
I've never been able to resist approaching the jaguar instead of just making sure its healthy and well-fed from outside the enclosure, despite the danger. Spitfire has been trained to kill humans, and I am no exception.
As expected, as soon as I unlock the gate and step foot inside, the jaguar is on its feet, crouching low and preparing to pounce. But without moving at all, I reach out, and instantly feel the familiar sensation of my mind touching his. Spitfire straightens his legs and sits back, his eyes still never leaving mine.
I tell myself that I'm not trying to control him like they do, that I'm just stopping the creature from tearing straight through my jugular, but its a lie. Though my blood is red, there is very little difference between me and the silvers of House Viper that I am sworn to.
Because though Maven might have changed drastically since our time on the war front, I have changed also, and I'm not so sure that he would recognize me anymore, either.
"Have you heard the rumors about King Maven's coronation tour?" I hear one silver ask another as I walk through the opulent halls towards the less than modest room House Viper allows me.
I see the listening silver nod eagerly, excited like any other silver when they talk court gossip. "I hear it's a front, that he's hunting some dangerous reds allied with the Scarlet Guard."
I have to fight the urge to shake my head in exasperation. Even while talking about the Scarlet Guard, the biggest threat in modern memory to the silver's seemingly exhaustive power, most still don't bother to hide their gossip when speaking in front of red servants like myself. For all they know, I could be part of the Scarlet Guard too, and go straight away to report what I've heard.
I'm not of course, and I have no interest in joining a bunch of terrorists, no matter how just their cause, but the points still stands. Even with reds rising up against them all over the countryside, the silvers are still so secure in their power that they feel perfectly protected speaking of such matters in front of red servants. The walls have ears, but the silvers couldn't care less who's listening.
"I have a cousin in Archeon who tells me he's actually hunting rumors of reds like the Lightning Girl," the first says, his tone fast and excited.
"Like the Lightning Girl? How many could there possibly be? Is that what all the fighting in Harbor Bay was about?"
My blood freezes like I've been hit by a Shiver, the silver-blooded ability of House Gliacon.
Reds like Mare Barrow… Reds with powers… Reds like me. But surely they can't know about me, can they?
Damned Mare Barrow, the Lightning Girl. She just had to kick up a hornet's nest by trying to overthrow the King. Now, thanks to her, every red with abilities, and surely there are more than just me and her, are in danger. A part of me wants to run and never look back, but with nowhere to go, and no-one to run to, what would be the point?
Relax, Thomas. They might not even know about you.
Logically, there's no reason they should. The only time I ever use my abilities is when I'm with Spitfire, and even that is rare, and it's not like I'm not careful to see who's around…
For now, doing nothing seems like a good plan. I don't want to ruin the life I've got here on the slight chance that Maven will come looking for me, thinking me some random, powered red. That thought thrills me to my very core.
What would it look like if Maven saw me here, alive? Would he be happy to see me, or betrayed that I let him believe I was dead?
Such thoughts are pointless, and I shake them from my head as I reach my small room. It's not much, more just a cupboard with a small cot in the corner and a small adjoining bathroom. Still, it's more than most red servants get, but there has to be a few perks to being trained as the animal keeper of House Viper.
I'm definitely ready for sleep, much like any other day once the sun sets. I might have it easier than most reds down in the villages and cities, but tending to the animals all day every day can be tough work, especially some of the larger beasts. I'm barely laying on my familiar bed with its cardboard thin mattress before I hear it.
Gunfire.
Even years after my experience on the front lines, the sound cuts through me like a knife through butter, and images of burning and bleeding bodies flash in my minds' eye. It takes a few moments for logic to come back to me, but gunfire should certainly not be heard this close to the Viper Estate. Realistically, it's a strange sound anywhere in the town of Taurus, but on the Elite Silver Estate? Unheard of.
Maybe it's a one off…
Another gunshot, and another, and another. Then the sound of distant screams. All it would take is a few explosions and I'd be right where I was five years ago - terrified and young in the deep trenches of war.
So, an attack, and not a one off. The Scarlet Guard, maybe?
If that's the case, then it's beyond stupid for me to leave my room. If the Scarlet Guard are attacking House Viper, then any red in the estate is in danger, whether innocent servant or attacking terrorist. But still, House Viper will retaliate, and on their own grounds, where they're most powerful. The only ones to suffer will be their animals, being used as mindless weapons to attack their foe.
I'm on my feet and out of my room before I even fully consider the consequences. House Viper might not care about the lives of the creatures they enslave to fight for them, but I sure as hell do, and I might just be able to do something about it.
This is the stupidest thing I've ever done. A bold claim, considering what I've done in the past. Maybe only one of the stupidest, then.
I barely see anyone in the halls, and those that I do are simply red servants running back to their quarters to escape the danger. Like me, they understand the consequences of being caught out in the open in the event of such an attack by the Scarlet Guard. Even if it isn't the Scarlet Guard, which seems unlikely, the battlefield is no place for red servants.
My room is closest to the stables, and I can hear the terror of the horses both in my mind and with my ears as soon as I'm a little closer. For some reason, hearing an animal cry out in terror is just as heartbreaking as when a human does it, and I've definitely heard my share of screaming from both.
I try to spread my calm to the horses inside as a small mental field to stop them from jumping and kicking inside their stalls. It's weak though, just a small pulse when I try to affect so many at once. With a grunt of annoyance, I approach the first stall directly, touching the closest horse's mind with my own, and willing it to be calm. The horse stops kicking and quietens, slowing to a stop, though the fear never leaves its eyes.
The gunfire is closer now, and flashes of purple and red streak through the sky outside the stable door. Both colors are familiar, and absolutely the last thing I want to see. The purple is the exact color of Mare Barrow's lightning, recognizable from the now famous footage of the Bowl of Bones. The red is as familiar as the breath in my own lungs. The color of Maven's fire - beautiful, deadly, destructive. But it's not Maven, I know that, even if some part of me wishes it could be. It can only be Tiberius, the exiled, traitor Prince.
But why are they here? I don't want to believe its for me, because how could they possibly know about my ability? The Silvers of House Viper couldn't possibly know, or I'd be dead already, and if they don't know, how could anyone else? So why else risk attacking one of the most elite silver houses?
"Mare, we need to go!" shouts a male voice, fairly close to the stables now.
"I'm not leaving without the newblood!" the lightning girl shouts right back. "If we leave now it might as well be a death sentence for him!"
Newblood? No, they can't be talking about me. I wish I believed my own thoughts.
"It'll be a death sentence for us if we don't get out of here now! We can't fight the Vipers on their own estate, it's suicide!"
They're right outside the stables now, close enough that I can hear their tired panting just on the other side of the wooden walls. I'm determined to stay quiet, still in the first stall with the now calm horse while the others kick and thrash about from the sound of the gunfire and chaos beyond.
"Mare, we need to leave!" the male voice says again, more urgent this time. I'm sure now that it's Maven's brother. I only saw him briefly at the war front, but a commanding voice like his is difficult to forget. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Maven always hated his brother's commanding presence - always felt overshadowed. Though I haven't seen him in so long, and even with everything having changed since then, I still can't help but feel resentful of him on Maven's behalf.
"If we leave, Thomas will be dead by daybreak. You know that Maven is on his way right now."
Oh, shit. I should probably be more concerned with the fact that it is me that they're here for, and with the fact they said I would be dead by daybreak, but the information feels dwarfed compared to the idea of Maven coming.
I could see him again. I have no idea what that would mean for me, but just seeing Maven again with my own eyes, instead of through a screen while he's making some royal speech makes my body feel like its on fire. Don't be stupid. Even through the excitement, logic wins out. I have no idea what Maven would do to me. Kiss me, kill me, imprison or torture me - each option seems just as likely as the next.
So all that leaves, if I believe what they're saying, is that if I don't go with them, I'll be dead by tomorrow. Clearly, they have some method of finding reds with abilities, and I am definitely one of those. I can't ignore it now that it's right in front of me. My life as I know it is over no matter what I choose.
Maybe I should run on my own. I have no interest in joining the Scarlet Guard on their misguided mission, but what other options do I have? I'm not confident in my ability to escape on my own without the hunters of House Viper being able to track me down. If anyone knows how capable they are, it's me.
"Cal!" comes a shrill, furious voice, and my familiarity with the new voice is enough to make me cringe. Atara Viper squawks like a cockatoo, and if I didn't already know she was an Animosi, I would put money on her being a Banshee. Her presence certainly doesn't make things any easier. She would never approach the exiled Prince without her birds, and there are so many in the Viper aviary that no amount of burner firepower or lightning ability will keep the two invaders safe.
"Oh, crap," I hear Cal say outside. "We need to run."
They never get the chance. With the surprisingly loud flapping of what amounts to hundreds of birds targeting them from all directions, the former Prince and the Lightning Girl are done for. Or they would be, without my untimely intervention.
My power comes to me, a pulsing mental wave, an extension of the electrical currents in my brain, and I stretch it out and through the walls of the stable, towards the incoming flock of birds. It takes them over in an instant. I could easily have them turn on Atara, but I don't want to hurt anyone, not even her, and instead I have them fly in lazy circles overhead, harmless.
"What did you do?" Atara screams at Mare and Cal, and I can feel her trying to overpower my ability with her own, hearing in my own head her impulse for them to kill, kill, kill. But my will is strong, and the birds do as I bid, even as it puts a sickly pit in my stomach for taking away their own freedom.
The danger is far from passed. Cal is certainly right, and escape is the only way out of this mess, and I have no choice but to escape with them. I quickly spread calm to the horse in the next stall, and mount the one currently next to me, directing both to the large double doors of the stables.
When the doors open in front of me, it's to see Cal and Mare running down the hill and back towards the small town of Taurus, not that they will get far. The silver guard is almost certainly coming in large numbers, and though the head of House Viper is away at the moment, there are more Animosi here than just Atara. I can't stop them all.
"Get on," I shout, trotting both my horse and the second over to their side.
Cal and Mare both look up incredulously at me while they continue to run down the muddy path.
"Who are you?" Mare asks, looking at me with her wide, brown eyes, full of steely determination.
"My name is Thomas. I believe you were looking for me?"
Mare sputters, but we don't have time for sputters, so I look to Cal. Just the image of him almost makes me lose my composure. He looks so much like Maven, except for the eyes, and just the image of him almost makes me change my mind. Even with the knowledge that Maven is coming to Taurus, I almost want to stay just to see him, no matter how stupid a decision it may be.
But if I can't see Maven, I'll just have to settle for what's been reminding me of him since I last saw him. The alarms should have opened the doors to all the enclosures for easy access for the Animosi, and I can only hope that they worked properly, or I'll never see my favorite animal companion again. I search briefly for the intimately familiar touch of his mind, and urge him to come our way.
"Can you ride?" I ask Cal. He nods, and I urge the other horse to trot up beside him so he can climb on its back, pulling Mare up behind him.
"Follow me," I say, and I don't need to do anything more than will the horses into a gallop before they're speeding off and out of the compound. It would be easier if the horse's were saddled, but as it is, I have to lean close over my horse's neck to keep from falling.
Its only a good twenty seconds before I feel Spitfire begin to approach. Our horses might be fast, but they're nothing compared to the full speed of a sprinting black jaguar. Across from me, Cal's hand glows bright with his fire as he looks back at the quickly approaching black cat.
"No!" I shout quickly. "He's with me!"
Cal looks at me with confused eyes for a brief second, before they're filled with understanding. "You're an Animosi," he says simply.
I hesitate for a moment before nodding. "Yes, an Animosi," I hear myself say, though I hope they're no better at detecting half truths than I am at giving them.
Life would be so much simpler if I was just an Animosi…