Sunlight creeps across the entrance. Bright fingers grasping for my ashes. My mind is racing. Wormwood. It’s a psychedelic poison. The symptoms are straightforward. With a heavy dose, a phoenix starts to see visions. Some people think the visions are real, that the phoenix is getting glimpses of the veiled underworlds controlled by the Ashlord gods. I couldn’t care less about the philosophy behind it. All that matters is that when my horse is born, it’s going to be seeing demons and monstrosities. It will smell them, too. I can soften the fear at the start, but there’s only one eventuality for a horse that’s been poisoned by wormwood.

They run and they run and they run until they die.

I curse, hearing the rebirth begin. Dust spins violently around the recess, sudden wind knocking me back a step. I brace myself and keep rooting through my packs. When everything’s arranged, I shove the sack over one shoulder and lift my saddle from the ground.

A glance shows the chaos settling. A bloodred horse strides out of the scattering dust, new to the world and not. I unlatch the third container and dip two fingers into my stores of Revelrust. I didn’t want to use any of the stuff—every gram of it is worth a fortune—but I know the addictive substance will buy me the time I need to saddle the phoenix.

She’s already stomping, testing her new legs and snorting wildly. She starts toward the entrance and I dart forward. Three strides have me in front of her, cutting off the exit, hands raised and fingers powdered with Revelrust. She huffs at me, but then catches a whiff of what I’m offering. There is no component more addictive for a phoenix. Her whole body shudders and I sprinkle a pinch of it down to the ground. She can’t resist. Lowering her head and sniffing, her eyes go wide and unfocused. I slip past as she tries to gauge the strange substance, confused by how badly she wants the stuff.

I’m quick on the saddle and with the straps, slipping around her frame with as much precision as I can manage. I have to go fast, but if I miss something, I’ll break my neck just the same. She finishes the Revelrust and turns, sniffing and searching for more of it. I let her snort against my fingers, and use the other hand to work on the harnesses, getting everything in place. She gets bored with me and starts moving toward the entrance again. This time, when I get in her way, she snorts and stomps. I stand firm until she settles; then I slide past to tighten the final buckle.