Dain
“The only other words I have to offer you are ‘good luck.’” Kaori takes a long look at us, and I have a sinking feeling that he’s trying to memorize our faces so he can project them later if needed.
Then he nods to himself and walks off toward the right, vanishing among the trees that lead up the hill from the bowl-shaped valley that will entomb some of us.
Being the last professor to see us all alive—the professor responsible for preparing us for such a deadly day—must be a tiresome burden to bear.
The squads around me break up, some heading directly into the woods while others hang back to say goodbye to their friends.
“Want to go in together?” Cianna asks, tying up her blond curls behind her head as she turns toward me. Out of everyone in our squad, she’s the one I get along with best.
“We’re supposed to go in by ourselves.” I ignore the impulse to give in to the fear that has me in a choke hold. It would be nice, comforting even, to have a friend out there, but dragons prefer to see if a rider can stand on their own.
“I heard some of the squads in Fourth Wing are planning a team approach.” She glances to the right, where Fourth Wing seems to be forming smaller groups.
“Only the ones who like to push the boundaries of the rules.” Aura glances sideways at me. “I bet you’re glad you didn’t get put into Xaden Riorson’s squad. Rumor is that guy’s got it out for you.”
“Just because Dain’s dad is General Sorrengail’s aide,” Cianna says, like that somehow makes it better. “And…you know. He helped her hunt down Fen Riorson for execution.”
“Bet he’d love to challenge you.” Aura cocks her head to the side and studies me.
“Yeah, well, his dad killed my best friend’s older brother during that pointless rebellion, so trust me, the feeling’s mutual.
” I’ve been checking around dark corners for Xaden Riorson from the moment I crossed the parapet.
First, because the arrogant asshole wields shadows of all things, and second, because his desire for my death isn’t exactly a secret, though he hasn’t come after me.
Thank gods Violet is headed into the Scribe Quadrant next year, because Riorson would probably break every rule in the Codex to kill her.
I just need to hope Riorson isn’t going to use Threshing as an excuse to kill me.
“Cadet Aetos!” Dad’s voice booms from behind us, and I lock my jaw to keep from visibly cringing.
I love my father. He’s the epitome of what a rider should be: loyal, steadfast, and regimented. He’s everything I want to be in a few years, and making him proud is my first and foremost objective in the quadrant. But how the hell am I supposed to stand on my own if he doesn’t stop hovering?
“Daddy’s calling.” Aura smirks and my face heats. “Maybe his dragon could bond you, too, and then you’d always be together!” Her shrill laugh grates on my last nerve as she walks off toward the trees.
“Good luck.” Cianna smacks me on the shoulder and smiles reassuringly. “See you on the flight field.”
“You too.” I take a deep breath, prepare myself for the list of how I’ve undoubtably disappointed him recently, then turn to face my fate.
Dad waits with his arms folded about fifteen feet away at the base of the hill, which means there’s a good chance he’s heard everything we just said.
He has an uncanny ability to hear everything I don’t want him to and nothing I need him to.
Then again, he hasn’t listened to anything I’ve had to say since Mom took off while we were stationed in Luceras.
Considering Dad swears it was because Mom inferred he wasn’t capable of protecting her with the Tyrs rebelling, I give him a little grace for smothering me.
But he has to stop. The other cadets are noticing, and not only does it embarrass the shit out of me, it might hurt my chances at entering leadership.
“Dad.” I lift my hand in greeting, then head his way.
“Dad?” He quirks an eyebrow.
“Sir,” I quickly correct.
Already disappointing him and the conversation hasn’t even started yet.
“I’d think you’d be happier to see me, Dain,” he lectures once I close the distance between us.
“I saw you last week. When you sat in on Battle Brief. Exactly five chairs down from me.” I cross my arms in front of my chest, more than aware of our resemblance.
We have the same brown eyes, same build, same brown hair, and even the same mannerisms. Maybe that’s why Mom left me behind, because I’m a reminder of him.
That doesn’t explain why she stopped writing to me last year, though.
I have a feeling that has to do with my decision to volunteer for the Riders Quadrant, but I might never know what really happened, and that kills me.
“I was evaluating Devera’s teaching methods.” He waves his hand as if he can brush off every instance that he’s butted in over the last few months.
“Right.” I scratch the scruff growing on my jawline and lift my brows at him. “And you needed to see Kaori right after my class the week before that, and you had to ask Emetterio a question during one of my challenges—”
“Most cadets are completely cut off from their family. I’d hoped you’d be grateful I’ve found ways to be present in your life during your first year.” He bristles and color rises along his collar, a sure sign that I’ve struck a nerve. “All within the rules, of course.”
“Of course.” Shit. Guilt settles in my stomach like lead, and I immediately regret saying anything. Naturally he’s overprotective. We’re the only family each other has. I couldn’t imagine sending my only child into the quadrant, knowing there’s an overwhelming chance I’d never see them again.
“I just…” His eyes soften. “I just wanted to lay eyes on you.”
My shoulders dip. “I’m glad to see you—”
“Second Wing,” he interrupts with a wistful tone, eyeing the patch on my shoulder. “You’ll be a great wingleader for Second Wing, just like I was in my day.”
No pressure or anything. “I’ll do my best—”
“What’s going on there?” His brow knits as he looks past me, and I glance over my shoulder to see what has him riled.
Xaden Riorson’s cousin—another first-year—is talking to a few cadets with rebellion relics at the edge of the forest. Most of them are in Fourth Wing, but Imogen Cardulo is one of ours.
“Oh. Bodhi Durran’s probably giving a pep talk to some of the marked ones.” I turn back toward my father.
His eyes narrow. “There are four of them.”
“Yes. I think there are fifteen marked ones this year, divided pretty evenly among the wings.” Their presence was a major point of contention the first couple of months, given what their parents put our kingdom through, but most personal issues have been settled on the mat per quadrant tradition.
“We have three in Second Wing, including Cardulo, and they’re all split between sections and squads, so it’s not like they’re violating Addendum—”
“For right now.” Color rises to the top of his neck as he glares in their direction. “They know the Code of Conduct changed this year and they can’t gather in groups of three, let alone four.”
“They’re not gathered, Dad.” I tilt my head and lean in to his line of sight. “No more than if formation had just broken or if they ran into each other in the academic wing.”
“Does he do that often?” He lowers his hands to his sides and his fists clench. “Give pep talks?”
“Sometimes, I guess.” Other times I’ve seen the second-years coaching them.
“I wouldn’t really know, considering they’re not in my wing.
But I understand why they stick together when they can.
Some of the cadets don’t think they should be here, and I’ve heard a lot of them are nervous the dragons will kill them—”
“They weren’t supposed to live last year,” he hisses in a whisper.
My jaw all but unhinges. “You don’t mean that.”
“And now two of them are already squad leaders. As second-years. It’s…unfathomable.” His face is fully flushed now, and he’s practically shaking.
“The dragons vouched for them. Their intentions. Their loyalty,” I say softly. “We never question dragons, right?” It goes against everything he’s taught me.
He grasps my shoulders and stares into my eyes with an intensity that makes him look like a stranger. “You don’t know the things I do, son. They might look like innocent kids being punished for their parents’ transgressions, but they’re not.”
“Are you serious?” I search his eyes, but he has no reason to lie to me.
His fingertips dig painfully into my shoulders. “I can’t tell you because it’s classified, but you can’t trust them. Not any of them, but especially not Riorson.”
“Dad, if they’re committing crimes, then bring them up on charges—”
“I don’t have enough proof. Yet. That’s why I need you.” His grip eases. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but I love you, and I need you to be on guard. I need you to…”
“To what?” My brows scrunch. How can he possibly expect me to act on something when he doesn’t even have all the facts?
“Tell me if they break the Codex.” He smooths his hands over my shoulders, then pats me like I’m a child. “You can do that for me, right?”
I shake my head. “If they break the Codex, they’ll be handled by the chain of command as the Codex and the Code of Conduct dictate,” I argue.
“Those are the rules, and you’ve always taught me that the way to make you proud—the way to survive this place—is to follow the Codex to the letter, because the dragons established the rules and their word is law. ”
“Yes, of course.” He nods. “You trust me, don’t you, Dain?”
Talk about a gut punch.
“Of course I do, Dad.” I wince. “Sir.”
“Then trust me now.” He looks away. When his gaze returns to mine, it’s softened, and he looks like my dad again. “I’m also worried Riorson will challenge you.” His face falls.
My back stiffens. “I’ve won every challenge but one—”
“And he’s never lost on the mat. Not once.” Dad swallows and gently squeezes the tops of my arms. “Do you remember what I told you about how he got those scars on his back?”