46. CHAPTER 46
Our downtime before dinner turned out to be actual downtime, except we weren’t allowed to venture beyond the courtyard. Even though my father had cleared everyone, we were still being watched unless it was lights out. Tables had been brought in so we could sit and talk.
Lili, Alex, Eleanor, and the other Platoon Leaders walked into the courtyard, drawing everyone’s attention. “All Flight Guides, come with us,” Eleanor announced.
Michalova, Laderra, Aeltharion, and I—along with the others from Dragon Wing and Eagle Wing—stood and moved toward them, exchanging quick glances. We followed them into Dining Hall One, where the rest of cadet leadership already sat. Scullin and Kamban were present as well.
“Thanks for coming in,” Kamban said. “Everyone in this room has been read in and is aware of what will occur when cadets arrive back. Cadets are due on January fifth. Everyone here returns on the third. We’ll go over perimeter details to ensure every cadet is vetted.”
Scullin stepped up beside him. “Does everyone understand? Questions?”
Silence stretched a few heartbeats.
“Alright then,” Scullin said. “Rider cadets and Drusearon cadet leaders report to Captain Vindex’s room. The rest of you—the only train coming through tomorrow arrives at zero-nine hundred. Don’t miss it. Dismissed.”
We filed out to the courtyard where cadets clustered at tables or stood in groups. Corson strode in front of us .
“Riders, listen up—we’re going to Vindex’s classroom. It’s time to discuss flight plans—”
“I thought we were doing that after dinner?” a Rider from another wing cut in.
“We were,” Corson said, “but we have time now. Dinner is in an hour. After you eat, pack and be ready to leave at zero-six hundred.” He motioned to the Alpha side, and we headed in.
All eighty-nine of us—sixty-five first-years, twelve Rider cadet leaders, and twelve Drusearon cadet leaders—packed into Professor Vindex’s classroom.
It was large, but with all of us, it felt full.
A wall-sized map of Yebel hung at the front.
My gaze drifted, as it always did, to Winterhand Stronghold—then slid northeast to Ashwynd, where Zane’s family lived, where the duke of the Veil of Vultures lived.
Professor Hildegard stood poised at the front.
Of course, he was helping organize. Flying was his domain.
“We’re breaking this into sections by destination province.
Once your plan is set, you can head to the dining facility.
” He turned to the map and tapped Veskonia, the southeastern province.
“If you’re going to Central or West Veskonia, eastern Esten, or Fort Dasyn, come forward. ”
Eighteen cadets stepped up. He held out a quill pen. “Circle your destination unless you’re bound for Dasyn.”
Three were from Feather Wing—two of those to Dasyn—seven from Dragon Wing, five from Eagle Wing.
One by one, they marked villages. Six were going to Dasyn.
Most others aimed for border towns, which made sense.
Veskonia had more Shapeshifters, and deep Veskonia could be less welcoming to other Fae.
Kalona, a coastal fort with a Shapeshifter majority, remained heavily guarded, and nearby towns were friendlier.
The beaches were spectacular. It had always been one of my favorites to visit.
Hildegard worked their routes, pairing them into travel groups—some splitting only near the end.
He reminded everyone that forts, outposts, and encampments had Riders or Drusearons on air patrol and had already expanded their patrol zones to support returning cadets—standard for leave periods.
Once they had their orders, they filed out. Seventy-one of us remained.
Hildegard circled a finger over the map. “Northern Veskonia and south-central Eastvwyth?”
Fifteen cadets stepped forward—only one Drusearon.
Michalova and Lorenzo were part of this group.
Two would go to Coastal Camp Echo, including Robert.
If I could be a fly on the wall when he got home…
it had come out that his “Rider father” wasn’t his father.
That affair explained why the tincture didn’t work for him.
The rest of the villages were scattered across the region.
The lone Drusearon headed for Mid-Eastvwyth.
Hildegard reviewed their plans and gave a sharp reminder not to fly directly over the fliers’ vale—no need to stir tempers.
“Next up, western Esten or Cliana?” he called.
Fifteen stood—eight to Cliana, seven to Esten. It was oddly grounding to see where classmates actually called home. Many still had at least one parent in uniform, forever moving. Micah circled Whisper Outpost on the Esten/Cliana border.
Lili and Alex marked Zion Outpost, the same as my father this rotation—another border post. Three cadets were bound for Lakish Outpost on the coast, with a planned stop at Zion.
“If you’re going to Glonia—or any towns between the college and Glonia—step up,” he said to the forty-one still seated. Nineteen moved, leaving twenty-two for the Veil of Vultures.
“Anyone bound for the far north—Winterhand Stronghold or beyond?” he asked the Glonia group.
Four raised hands. “Rejoin the Veil group—you’ll travel with them.” Thora and Akira were two of those. They returned to us with two from Eagle Wing.
He ran the Glonia plans quickly—six to villages beyond the mountains.
Several to Fort Nemlina in central Glonia, the third largest post on the continent.
One to Hallowford, a large city south of the river on the mountainside.
Hildegard shifted that cadet to our Veil group—it made more sense for the route .
Finally, our turn. Sixteen Riders and eleven Drusearons—including Zane—gathered at the front. The Veil of Vultures sprawled across most of Yebel’s north. Some of us would fly east, others west. Zane and I would go to Ashwynd, a large city north of Winterhand Stronghold on the far western side.
“This is the largest cohort—maybe I should have started with the Veil,” Hildegard said with a quick chuckle. “We’ve got four to Winterhand and one to Hallowford. Who else is headed west, toward Ashwynd?”
Remus, Oliver, Eli, Sadie, Landon, Nikolai, Arya, Zane, me, and four more raised hands together. A surprising concentration of leadership.
“Two, four, six, eight, ten, twelve, fourteen, sixteen, eighteen—eighteen of you,” he counted. “That’s a lot of bodies in one path.”
“Staggered departures, like years past?” Nikolai Corson asked. As a fourth-year, he’d done this before.
“Yes,” Hildegard said, rubbing his jaw. “Normally, the week prior, everyone submits destinations and preferred companions. We pair groups of two to five with timed departures. Given the circumstances, we’re condensing on the fly.”
He pointed to the four going to Winterhand and the Hallowford Rider. “You five will fly together, stop in Hallowford, then the four continue on. Depart at zero-five-thirty. Winterhand’s air-patrol will extend almost to Hallowford. If you run into trouble, your fliers will call for assistance.”
He scanned the remaining thirteen of us. “Let’s do Mooring, Haladega, Corson, Devins, Bosmini, and Blackcreek.”
“Respectfully, sir, Blackcreek and I will remain together,” Zane said before Hildegard could name the second group.
Hildegard narrowed his eyes, forehead creasing.
“You can switch me with Mooring,” Zane continued, “which keeps the same balance—four Riders and two Drusearons. And one group doesn’t need three Wing Commanders. Too many cooks in the kitchen.”
“Reason?” Hildegard asked, still glaring at him like he was a thorn in his side .
“She’s my partner, and we’re going to the same location. If you have further questions, direct them to General Blackcreek.” Zane’s tone carried so much authority it made my heart skip. He met Hildegard’s stare head-on, daring him to push back.
“Alright. Then we’ll do Braegon, Haladega, Corson, Devins, Bosmini, and Blackcreek. Haladega and Corson will be in charge as Wing Commanders.”
He went on to explain that the remaining seven would form the second group. Ours would depart at zero-five-forty-five, theirs at zero-six-hundred. We were to follow the river north to the town of Blackmere and rest there. Once the second group arrived, we would continue east.
There was a vale between Winterhand Stronghold and Ashwynd where our fliers would stay when not in use. We were discouraged from flying beyond transit, though.
Esme grumbled down the bond, “Pshhh. We’ll be exploring.”
I smiled faintly.
Hildegard assured us patrol coverage would be strong in the region. He also gave return plans, since many of us were expected back early. We'd fly home in slightly different groups.
One cadet voiced what I was wondering. “Why not put us in the groups we’ll be returning with?”
“That’s a fair question,” Hildegard said.
“Among you, thirteen, there are four Wing Commanders—two Riders, two Drusearons. Then, there is an Executive Officer, three Platoon Leaders, and one first-Flight Guide. That makes nine returning early. Which leaves four first-year Riders. If we grouped strictly by return schedule, those four would fly there alone. I’d rather their first real journey home include experienced leaders. ”
It made sense. None of us wanted new Riders flying solo if it could be helped. There would be plenty of cadets already traveling alone.
Our group was dismissed, leaving the last cohort to go over their plans. My stomach rumbled. Food and sleep—those were the only things I wanted before tomorrow’s long flight.
Zane walked behind me, his hand light at the small of my back. The gentle touch grounded me. I hadn’t realized how tense I was until I finally exhaled. He rubbed up and down my spine, sensing it. Gods, he was the best.
***
Dining Hall Two was already full when we slipped inside, noise rattling the rafters. With most of the campus emptied, Riders claimed the space like wolves with a carcass—loud, restless, ravenous.