CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
T HE REST OF WING ONE is back this morning and I’m not looking forward to training with them again. Right? I didn’t miss them or anything. They’re nothing but power-hungry assholes. Even if they’re nice to look at, my muscles needed the break. Thankfully, Sergeants Featherington and Hemmings just had us sparring with each other and doing basic drills.
Now the real torture begins again.
My squad ambles out to the training yard, and even though the weather is warming slightly, because of how far up in the Dreki Mountains we are, snow still lingers. I don’t mind the cold—love it even. But this warmer weather is a nice break from the frigid temperatures.
Bracken comes to stand beside me. “Hey Ravina. So I know I’ve been pushy and given off the worst impression, but we’re a squad. I really want to be friends, and I know I’ve been a coward when it came to how you were treated in Shalo,” he whispers. “But can we please start over? Gregor, Bren and I are going to the library later. Did you maybe want to join? You can bring the others, too, if they make you more comfortable.” He clears his throat looking nervous.
I glance back at Ember and Melissandre who shrug before turning back to him. My arms cross over my chest as I assess him. “How do I know I won’t regret this? I’m all for squad bonding, but I’m not looking for anything more than friends,” I remind him. We need to play nice. We will be out of here soon, I remind myself.
He places his hand on his chest. “I swear to the fates that unless you give me a sign, all I want is friendship too.”
I nod thoughtfully. “Why are you guys going to the library?” Maybe it would be a good idea to check out the doors to the restricted section and see how we’ll be able to get in there. Because as much as I don’t want to touch my Skuggi magick, having it lash out unexpectedly is worse.
His smile widens, making his pale eyes gleam. “We are going over the different factions to see where we would like to place in The Choosing. I’m partial to being a Gryphon Rider. Have you thought about which one you’re going for yet?”
I shake my head. No, but I do know that whichever is the easiest to survive is the one I’m taking. There’s no way I’m dying here.
“Well, I’m sure we can all figure it out. Does after dinner work?” he asks hesitantly.
“I’ll let you know when I talk to the others,” I respond, and he moves back toward Gregor, giving me a wide smile.
Ember and Melissandre are instantly at my side, peering down at me from their slightly taller heights. “Is everything okay?” the latter asks.
“I think so? We’ve been invited for a squad study session in the library tonight after supper.” I murmur to them. “He also apologized for everything, which is weird. Either way, I think this will give us the excuse we need to check out the library to scope out the restricted section.”
“I’ll let my brother know,” Mel murmurs back, nodding to Ember before heading over to the guys in our little band of misfits.
Ember studies me, but before she can say anything, I put my hand up. “I can handle him if he tries to step out of place. I just want to stick to our plan.”
“And what plan would that be, Cadet Solace?” Craven’s silky smooth voice interrupts.
I whirl towards him, my heart pounding in my chest to see him standing behind me, arms crossed and a suspicious glint to his narrowed eyes. “The plan to go to the library tonight to figure out which faction we want to choose for The Choosing, Sergeant,” I state, snapping to attention.
He hums, watching my face, and I can feel my nerves getting to me.
“Why are you nervous, Cadet? Are you lying about something?” He sniffs dramatically, baring his pointed teeth. “You reek of secrets .”
I fight to get my emotions under control. “No, Sergeant. To be honest, you startled me. What I said was the truth.” And it is, but the intense way he’s staring at me makes me go back over the conversation. There’s nothing there that could incriminate me… is there?
“Hmmph.” He glances at the rest of my squad. “Everyone to the armory. Today we are training with swords.” His eyes dart back to me. “You’re with me today, Solace. Let’s see if you’ve gotten any better at paying attention to your surroundings. ”
I swallow.
Something isn’t right.
I glance up to where Nero is perched, and I can feel his hesitancy to come down and stay close. Ember pulls me to her as we head across the yard to the battlements where the armory is located.
“What was that about?” she asks, being careful not to move her lips and to keep her voice down.
Not wanting to respond or talk about it here, I shake my head in response and plead silently with my eyes. “Later.”
She nods and we hurry to catch up with the others.
By the time we’ve signed out our weapons—a weapon that seems far too large for me—we are back in our usual training area.
I place the blade of my sword on the ground, waiting for instruction, when Ember hisses and shakes her head, motioning to her blade in her hand.
“What—”
“Cadet Solace!” Craven snaps. “Why is your blade on the ground? Hand it to Yearwood, drop and give me fifty.” He storms over to me, a look of frustration and anger etched into his chiseled jaw, clenching with every step.
I practically toss the blade to Ember, pommel first, and drop into the muddy snow, beginning my set.
“Can anyone tell me why your blade shouldn’t be on the ground as Cadet Solace has demonstrated?” Craven bellows as he paces in front of me. “No? Your blade is your weapon. Your responsibility. Placing it on the ground is a sure way to ruin and dull your blade. The only time I should ever see a blade on the ground is if you’re dead or dying! If you must, pommel goes into the ground, blade goes up, or it’s in its sheath. Every time I see a blade on the ground, I’m going to assume you’re weak and pathetic like Cadet Solace over here. Fifty push ups every single time. And just to make it clear, every day off you have for the next month will be spent in the armory, polishing and caring for these blades. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Sergeant,” my squad replies.
“I didn’t hear all of you!” Verlice yells somewhere to my left.
“Yes, Sergeant!” We all yell and I nearly face-plant into the snow as my concentration wavers.
Fucking fates.
Craven continues to pace in front of me, and our area of the training yard grows eerily quiet as they wait for me to finish. Suddenly a boot shoves down on my back and I’m thrust into the wet, muddy snow.
“You can’t even seem to do push ups right. Start over. The rest of you pair up. Sergeant Driscol, take over the lesson for me while I deal with this,” he snaps, removing his boot from my back.
I hear the familiar grunt of the giant, wrathful male, and I can’t help but think of how rough and enchanting his voice sounded the other night. No, what the hell are you doing Rav, these males are the enemy , I remind myself as I push back onto my hands, beginning my set again.
This time, as much as it pains my already battered muscles, I keep my form straight and slowly work through my set, fighting through the cramps in my arms that threaten to make me buckle under the pain. But pain is nothing new—I can work with it. If I can survive iron-tipped whips that have scarred my body, iron shackles that have left thick scarring around my wrists and ankles, then measly push-ups and a male with an ego that’s bigger than his dragon is nothing.
Slow and steady pays off when I finish the push-ups and rise to my feet, brushing my wet hands along my tunic.
Craven thrusts my sword at me. “Let’s see what you got,” is all he says as he draws his weapon: a beautiful crafted silver blade, one I don’t get to admire before I barely have time to block his slash.
When our swords clash together, the metal painfully reverberates up my arms, but I grit my teeth and with pure willpower, I manage to avoid dropping the blade again. Each strike seems to get more forceful. I would say it’s like a dance, but I’m barely hanging on, tripping over my feet as he presses me harder and harder. His face twists into a sneer, something akin to frustration blaring like a battle trumpet behind his golden eyes.
Finally his sword slashes out, twisting as our blades clash together, and mine flies out of my hand, landing carelessly in the mud. The piercing cold metal of his blade stings as he holds it against my neck, one arm wrapped around my back so I can’t escape as he leans down and gets in my face. My chest heaves with every breath I struggle to take in as my heart rate attempts to calm itself, but it’s futile with Craven so close. He leans in, his breath brushing against my ear as he speaks.
“I don’t get why the fates would grant you all this power and a familiar. You’re just a feeble female. A female who’s keeping secrets.” He pulls back just far enough so I can see the suspicion in his nearly glowing golden orbs. “We know,” he hisses. “Don’t you think it’s better to just come out and say it?”
My blood freezes and I lock down my emotions like I did whenever I was chained to that damn post in the center of Shalo village square. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sergeant. I’m here to train to be accepted into the ranks of the Damorleia army.” Fuck. No. Don’t think about it now. Just deny everything. What the hell does he know? My nostrils flare slightly as I try to scent anything that could give away what he’s talking about, but the only thing there is anger.
The blade presses father into my neck, and I hold back the hiss—not iron, but it still hurts.
He bares his teeth at me. “It’s rude to scent your superiors, Princess,” he snaps.
I can’t help the widening of my eyes at the moniker, it hitting a little too close to home. His words take up a whole new meaning. Does he actually know my secret? The one I haven’t spoken out loud since that fateful, disastrous night? No, it can’t be; it must be a coincidence.
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Maybe if you weren’t so close, Sergeant Craven, the pungent smell of your ego wouldn’t be so invasive.”
His eyes heat with anger as he shoves me back, and I barely catch my balance and stop myself from landing on my ass. He swings the pommel of his weapon towards my temple but I manage to dodge it—barely.
He growls, taking a step towards me before storming away towards the rest of his wing who are helping the others train. I stand there, staring wide-eyed at his broad shoulders as they retreat with the confidence only a warrior can muster. What in all of Damorleia just happened? I think I need to speak with the others and put a stop to our secret training for now, especially if Wing One might be onto us. It’s safer that way, at least until we can get information we need from the library.
EMBER TRAILS ALONG beside Nero and me, with Mel on my other side as we enter the library. Rozen and Lennox move behind us like quiet sentries. Those two weren’t impressed that Bracken invited us to come do some research for The Choosing, but after Em and Mel talked them down and made it clear that there’s a plan, they reluctantly climbed on board. Ever since he followed us down under the castle and even with his clinginess, they’ve disliked him… strongly.
I don’t blame them. He makes me uncomfortable, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Plus, this gives us the front that we are actually working together as a squad, and while we are there, Roz and Mel are going to sneak away to check out the door to the restricted section, to see if it would even be possible to get in without the assistance of the librarian.
Luckily we don’t need to search too long for the rest of our squad. Bracken has secured a table near the front of the library, but still nestled between two towering shelves, stacked with scrolls. It seems that they arrived not too long ago, as they have no scrolls or texts laying about on the table.
“You made it,” Bracken says with a smile, tapping the chair beside him.
I give him a hesitant smile back, greeting Gregor and Bren. “Shouldn’t we look for what we need first before sitting?”
His smile dims. “I thought we all could chat and get to know each other a bit more before studying. I already know what I plan on doing anyway. I just want to see if they have anything that could help me pass the trial.”
Ember sighs with annoyance next to me.
My hand reaches up to pet Nero’s silky feathers, my muscles straining with the movement. “I think I just want to study and get an early night. Training this morning was brutal and I’m exhausted,” I state, which isn’t a lie; I am exhausted and sore. My arms pinch with pain whenever I lift them above my shoulders.
He shrugs, standing. “Well, let’s get to it then. That way we can make sure you’re well rested for tomorrow.” His face softens and I look away.
Melissandre practically rolls her eyes before turning to me. “Roz and I are going to search over there to see if we can find anything.” She nods her head in the direction of the restricted section, deeper within the stacks of knowledge.
Roz whispers something to Lennox and nods at me before following Mel away from our group. Ember silently asks with her eyes if I’m okay, and with a twitch of my brow I mutely respond.
“I’m going to ask the librarian for help,” I murmur, stepping away from everyone and moving towards the front desk, which is where I saw her when we first came in.
Nero caws softly. “ I don’t like him. ”
I sigh, my shoulders dropping slightly. “ I don’t either, but we need to keep up appearances, and if we are always excluding them, someone is bound to take notice. Plus he’s harmless. A little persistent, but harmless. Plus I think he feels guilty for not standing up for me in Shalo ,” I murmur. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me. It’s obvious he didn’t want to be outcasted with me, but maybe that’s why he’s trying so hard now.
Nero’s wings flutter and ruffle. “ He should feel guilty. You went through hell living in that backwards village. Who willingly uses iron on their own people? They couldn’t even shackle you without putting gloves on first. And you did every task they asked of you without much complaint. I just— ”
“ I know Nero, ” I state, not wanting to go down memory lane of the horrors I lived through in that place.
Stopping in front of the librarian’s desk, she glances up at me. Her face lights up as she takes in Nero, such a change from the first day I met her. “Good evening Cadet, what can I help you with? Hello Nero,” she smiles, dipping her head slightly at him.
He chirps back, pleased that she acknowledged him.
“I’m looking for any information you may have on The Choosing. I’m trying to decide which faction to go for,” I explain quickly, knowing that they wouldn’t have any information on what the actual trial would be. Plus I know from experience that the more specific I can be, the better she’ll be able to assist me.
She hums, tapping the feathered quill she’s holding against her mouth. “Try aisles eight and nine. There should be something about factions there. Unfortunately as you know, no information regarding The Choosing gets recorded. It’s tradition to go into it blind, but I’m sure whatever you choose, you’ll be fine. Good luck,” she whispers, before going back to whatever she was working on.
Well, that was a bust, but to be expected. I move back towards the others, heading towards rows eight and nine, and when I pass the others, they follow me. It doesn’t take long to grab a handful of texts each before silently moving back to the table. Mel and Roz still aren’t back yet, so I can only hope that they’ve made some headway with the door.
I settle into the uncomfortable wooden chair and get to reading. Ember and Lennox snag the seats next to me, and I breathe a small sigh of relief that I don’t need to sit next to Bracken. Everything my eyes scan is common knowledge that we’ve already learned in Battle Strategy. I’m still not sure what I want to do. Obviously being a rider is out—I’d be noticed everywhere I went once I leave here. Archery also isn’t my cup of herbs. So at least I know I won’t be choosing Magick Artillery for The Choosing. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I prefer hand-to-hand combat, even swords over anything long distance. I’m nowhere near skilled enough in fighting or bulky enough to be a Berserker. Which leaves Infantry. Cannon fodder, essentially—it seems like the most basic faction I can choose, which hopefully means an easy in.
With that settled, I gather up my scrolls and texts, placing them on a nearby cart before I go and scour for some more information on Infantry.
“ Incoming ,” Nero announces and I whip around to see Bracken strolling towards me.
He stops about two feet away and leans against the shelves. “Hey, we haven’t really got to talk much, so I figured I would check in and see how you’re doing.”
I force a smile to my face, trying my best to remain friendly, hoping Roz and Mel finish soon so we can leave since I’m pretty sure I’m set on which faction I’m choosing. “I’m good, just doing some more research on Infantry,” I tell him.
He raises a pale brow. “Why Infantry? I think you’re wasting your potential there. I’ve changed my mind and I’m going to give dragon riding a go,” he announces. “You should do it with me. We can watch each other’s backs. How amazing would it be to ride one of those beasts?” he whispers with awe, leaning towards me.
“I think I’m going to stick with Infantry, but thank you. I wish you luck with the dragons,” I mutter.
He moves towards me, boxing me in against the shelf, and Nero caws angrily but Bracken steps back before he loses an eye and hands me a scroll. “In case you change your mind.” The roll of parchment is labeled in elegant black letters that read ‘History of dragons’.
I shove it back at him. “Thank you but no thanks. If we are going to do this friendship thing, you need to respect my boundaries.”
He takes a step back, raising his hands with his calloused palms facing me. “Boundaries will be respected, unless it’s for your own good. You were sheltered so much in Shalo, you wouldn’t know better in some situations. But don’t worry, I have your back.” He winks and strides away.
Anger bubbles up in my chest. The audacity that bastard has. How dare he assume he knows what’s best for me.
“ Please, let me fuck up his face ,” Nero begs, his plumage puffed up with his own anger that's bouncing back and forth through our bond.
“ If he tries something like that again, you don’t even need to ask, ” I mutter. I’m not letting these men walk all over me again. This isn’t Shalo, and I’m not hiding as a helpless null anymore. I have magick and a familiar. If anyone knows what’s best for me, it’s me. “ Come on, let’s go find the others. I think I’m done with squad bonding for the day. Hopefully Melissandre and Rozen found something that can help. ”