39. CHAPTER 39
The indoor stadium classroom was always cold in the mornings, the kind of chill that seeped into your bones while you waited for the professors to begin. I trudged in with the others, still heavy with the ache of yesterday’s training.
I froze completely.
There were already three professors present.
Their robes were pushed up at the sleeves, their hands covered with gloves, and their faces bore serious expressions.
One knelt in the middle of the aisle, scrubbing vigorously at a dark stain on the stone floor.
Another quietly muttered precise words that shimmered faintly before fading into the walls.
For a moment, I found it hard to breathe because I recognized those stains, knew what they concealed, and understood who was involved.
My stomach clenched fiercely. The boy I saw sprawled in the courtyard a day earlier was a stranger to me.
But this one... I knew him too well. The Rider cadet whose sneer echoed in my mind.
The one I had wounded across the Achilles tendon days ago, who limped away cursing my name.
Who directed hatred at me? He was no longer here.
Dead.
The professors worked faster, scattering powders and scrubbing away the last traces. By the time the rest of the class filed in, there would be nothing but a faint metallic tang in the air, the kind that would be explained away with a lie. An “accident.” A “disciplinary removal.”
But I knew better .
My breath came shallow, my palms slick as I forced myself to my seat, forcing my face into something unreadable. Around me, cadets whispered nervously, catching the edges of what happened but not daring to name it.
My bond shivered in my chest, unsettled.
Two shifters, two Infantry, and now a Rider. The message was clear. No branch remained safe. I clenched my fists in my lap, my pulse pounding. Whoever this killer was, they had not only left another body behind. They left it here, where all of us would walk in and see what awaited us.
I couldn’t keep my hands still. I laced my fingers together, unclenched them, and clenched them again.
Every creak of the old seats made me flinch, and every whisper felt like it was aimed straight at me.
Because I had cut his Achilles tendon, everyone remembered it.
He swore he would pay me back for it, spat my name like a bitter curse. Now he was dead.
What if they thought I had a hand in this? What if the professors already suspected? The thought gnawed at me, tightening like a noose.
At the front of the room, the professors finally straightened from their scrub work. The floor was clean now, the stain vanished as though it had never been there. But the smell lingered, metallic and sharp, sticking to the back of my throat.
Professor Melamora cleared her throat, her voice carrying over the restless cadets.
“Due to recent… incidents, the college will be enacting stricter measures.” Her eyes swept the room, daring anyone to challenge her.
“Earlier curfews will be enforced. Chamber inspections will be conducted without notice. We will start by having every wing, every platoon, and every squad conduct morning and evening formations, where every cadet will be accounted for. Morning formation will happen at zero-six hundred, evening formation at eighteen hundred. After evening formation, every cadet will be released to their rooms. The college will be receiving various second lieutenants from outposts to help enforce and monitor the situation.”
A ripple of unease swept through the seating .
Professor Fogg stepped forward, “You will continue your training as scheduled. Fear is a disease, and it will not take root here. You are not children, don’t cower in the shadows.”
“What about winter leave?” A Healer cadet shouted from the middle row.
Professor Pascal turned to face the cadet.
"Winter leave will still happen. This year, no cadet will be allowed to stay on the premises unless they are incapacitated or have explicit permission. We have six days before Winter Solstice and seven days before cadets go home for two weeks. Leadership is still trying to determine if we will be having our annual winter celebration.”
The chamber erupted—gasps, whispers, hands clutched over mouths. The thought of losing even that one bright spot sent shockwaves through the cadets.
But I couldn’t join the chorus. My thoughts churned too fast, too dark.
Winter leave. Inspections. Daily formations. Rules meant to cage us in. None of it would stop the fact that someone was hunting us inside these hellish walls.
***
The tension followed us out of the indoor stadium classroom like a storm cloud.
No one spoke as we filed into Professor Vindex’s lecture hall, twenty-two first-years from the Feather Wing shuffling to their seats with shoulders hunched and eyes flicking nervously to the door.
The air felt brittle, like the faintest spark could shatter it.
Vindex stood at the front, his black robes spotless and crisp, his brown hair neatly tied back in a severe knot. If these deaths rattled him, he showed no sign of it. He looked down his sharp nose at us as if daring anyone to break rank.
“Eyes front,” he barked, and the mutters died instantly .
“You all have bonded to a flier, which means you will start channeling anytime,” he began, pacing the dais. “Some of you have been preparing diligently. Others—” his gaze swept the room, lingering long enough to make stomachs drop, “seem to think channeling isn’t a big deal. It is.”
The word cracked like a whip.
“Getting your unique ability is part of bonding with a flier. It is a unique power that ties you and your flier together. If your power doesn’t manifest in the next week, it could manifest at home.
Over the next week, we will be hammering down on what that could look like, what that could mean for you, what that could mean for your family. ”
A nervous murmur rippled through the room.
Vindex slammed his hand down on the lectern, silencing it. “Control. Precision. Restraint. These are what would keep you alive. You will train harder, focus longer, and sacrifice more in the coming week. You will master the ability, or the ability will master you.”
My chest tightened sharply. The shimmering energy inside me roused anxiously, as if it had heard the warning and disliked it. I pressed my palms firmly against my knees to ground myself.
Vindex’s gaze swept the hall once more, sharp as a blade.
“Do not mistake my words for threats. They are truths. Most of you have simple magic, like lighting candles, amplifying your voices, shutting doors, feeling magic, creating wards, creating small wind paths, making small water ripples, or imbuing runes, to name a handful. Some of you didn’t have any magic until you bonded. ”
Vindex went on to remind us of information we learned in the beginning but may have forgotten, “Fliers have the unique ability to control the flow of power to you, which means they can seize the power flow if they sense you will burn out. Fliers are fickle creatures, and some of them don’t like when their Riders are being used or are out of control.
Do not mistake this and believe that your flier will stop you from burning out, especially in the first year of your bond.
Fliers can be cruel in a way. They test your powers, patience, and control. ”
The bond mark on my chest ached in response. I felt Esme tingle at our bond, something I was still getting used to. “I would not let you burn out for the fun of it. I might let you fall off me for the fun of it.” Followed by laughter.
She. What.
“That’s not nice.”
“I will catch you, offffff courseeeee, after I let you think I won’t.”
“Well, you just told me your plans… sooooooo.”
“Shit.”
“For the next week, while you are still here, lectures for the newly bonded Riders are changing,” Vindex announced.
The class shifted nervously, some of them not prepared for this news. Luckily for me, Lili had already told me that right after bonding, our schedules would be changing, focusing on our magical abilities and flying.
He continued, “You will continue to have your typical first class—current events, that will not change. That is where you are given the most update information concerning happenings around the—”
“Like the murders?” a Rider from second squad interrupted.
Vindex rotated on his heels, making this awful noise come from his boots as they scraped the stone floor.
“I know that what happened is alarming, Cadet Vidacovik, and we professors and the leadership are alarmed. Since neither I nor most professors know much more than you all, we will not be spending class time pondering all the what ifs.”
He walked back to the front of the class and turned around.
“Each wing will be staying together, in the same cohort, for the following week. There will be no days off for the weekend. This means there will essentially be three cohorts that will be rotating. As I said earlier, everyone will report to the stadium classroom first. For your wing, the second hour will be with me. The third and fourth hours will be on the flight field, with Professor Hildegard. All three wings will have lunch together. Your fifth hour class will be with Professor Duft, which is your wielding teacher, so new to you all. Your sixth hour will be Professor Bhatta, to finesse your knowledge on the flier you’ve bonded with.
Seventh- and Eighth-hour courses will be with Professor Yan, who is also new to you.
She is our amazing, magical leather worker.
You will spend that time working on saddles for your fliers. ”
“After which, it will be dinner, mandatory formation, then all cadets are required to report to their chambers for the night. Are there any questions?”
Everyone just stared at him, almost afraid to say anything, to ask anything. All in shock by the parameters he just laid.