Chapter Eleven #2
“Nothing?” he asked, standing braced before me.
The wide-legged stance invited the eye. I determinedly did not give in.
“Strange, because I could have sworn that you claimed I was pushing ‘him’ too hard. By which I take it you are questioning my training regime for Fin Segast. Is that right, Flight Sergeant Segast?”
I dragged my lip into my mouth to stop myself from responding.
“As Flight Captain of this outpost, I have the final say on what happens in this fortress. I have been training Riders for many years. Are you questioning my abilities, Flight Sergeant?”
This time I shot to my feet. “This has nothing to do with my rank, or yours. Fin’s still a kid. You can’t push him like an initiate at a college.”
Now we were eye to eye I could see that calculation in his expression, that hardness. The bastard didn’t care, and that boiled my blood.
“Fin is fifteen, he needs to channel his energies into something, you can’t keep pulling him or yourself out of every social situation in this place. The Fortress isn’t that big.”
“I’m his father, not you.”
He reared. “That you have made perfectly clear.”
I couldn’t have felt colder if Salvadora had breathed ice on me.
“Get out of here, Flight Sergeant. Before you lose that rank.”
* * *
My gut churned and threatened rebellion.
Fin had, over breakfast, reminded me that I had promised he could have a formation flying lesson on a clear day.
The promise had been rashly made based on the idea that in Unkea, misty was usually considered a clear day.
Unfortunately, that day had dawned clear and bright and blue-skied everywhere.
What cloud there was light and fluffy and as scary as Dora’s paw down feathers.
My arguments that Fin didn’t have a dragon to fly lasted all of a heartbeat when Flight Captain Shi pointed out that he could ride Salvadora, with him and Wingmate Gahunia.
Gahunia was another Rider who had come to Unkea a year or two before. He was younger than me and someone I trusted. Yet the idea of staying on the landing platform while the others flew sent pain along my jaw.
I’d had to put my eyes to the table not to snap at Shi even as my chest tightened. Yes, Ang Shi was a good teacher, a great leader. But Fin was my son.
That argument about his pushing Fin had been months ago.
I’d done everything I could to avoid a repeat of it.
I’d basically avoided interaction with any and all of the men stationed here, and reduced Fin’s contact as much as I could.
But he wasn’t a baby, I couldn’t confine him to his room.
So I functioned as a Flight Sergeant, as a member of the Fortress community, but I was only functioning.
I felt nothing. I could not afford to feel.
Any emotion threatened to swamp me, and if Ang Shi took against me, he could have Fin and I kicked out, not of Unkea, because where did you go from the pit of the service?
No he’d have me kicked out of the service entirely, and then where would I go?
Being a Rider was the only thing I knew.
That day, between my pleading son and my commanding officer making everything oh so easy for him, there was little I could do to hold them back.
Fin had nearly burst with pride when he’d walked up to the platform with the others.
I was incinerating within my own skin. Had I been sick, I would have spewed nothing but ashes.
The skies were clear and blue, and I watched with either the naked eye or with a telescope as the three of them soared in the air. I could hear Fin with Salvadora, I could hear Salvadora’s responses to the other dragons. It sounded like they were having fun out there while I was stuck here.
Then they were too far gone. Out to sea, beyond the horizon. I didn’t care that it was only three miles. All there was out there was ocean. If Fin made a mistake, if he fell —
No, I was being foolish. Fin wouldn’t make that kind of mistake. Dora wouldn’t let him. Besides, if he fell, assuming she didn’t catch him, Gahunia rode a purple, Hemi Kaelan, they could dive into the sea and rescue Fin.
I retched at the idea of Fin falling into the sea.
Suddenly the trio reappeared and headed directly for the landing platform. They flew well in formation, Ang Shi at the front, Gahunia and Fin behind. Salvadora wasn’t in entirely the correct position, and I wasn’t sure if that was down to her or Fin, I was only glad that Fin was okay.
This time when they came in, Fin and Salvadora slowed properly and touched down gently. Salvadora looked over Lord Aurexian’s shoulder and past Hemi Kaelan.
He was great.
It was good to know.
The way Dora snapped her head to Lord Aurexian as he leapt from the platform suggested a negative comment, but I’d find out what that meant later.
Hemi followed them and the three riders were left in the middle of the empty platform.
I wouldn’t interrupt the discussion. I had to respect the training, but it was hard to hold back.
Flight Captain Ang Shi had his say, Gahunia and Fin both saluted, then Shi turned towards me. He was removing his flight cap and unbuttoning his coat.
“The boy did well,” Shi told me. “For a first formation flight, very well.”
It was so annoying, Shi didn’t have a hair out of place. Always so perfectly well-turned out. Did he even know how to be a mess? Did he even suspect how much of a mess he was making me?
The problem was that made me turn away and I realised that Gahunia still had his hand on Fin’s shoulder. It could just be camaraderie or mentorship, but it looked just a little too friendly to me. The two of them were laughing together as they headed towards us. Towards me.
“You’ll be a great Ride—” Gahunia glanced over, caught my dark eye, “—er.”
I glowered at Gahunia until at last he lost that grin and took his hand off my son.
Once they were inside, I moved to follow, but Shi grabbed my shoulder, pushed me against the wall of the fortress.
“No.”
My glower refocused on Shi. “What?”
“I haven’t forgotten Eustace. I will not allow you to make that same mistake again.”
“But Gahunia—”
“But nothing,” Shi cut me off. “Gahunia was being friendly.”
“Too friendly.”
“By whose judgement?”
“Mine.”
“Then reassess.” The warning was stark and cold. “Because unless Fin objects, you’ve no reason to.”
“Fin’s a child.”
“Fin is fifteen. He’s taller and stronger than the majority of men here. If he feels threatened, he’s more than capable of looking after himself. You can’t keep holding him back.”
That cut. “I am not holding him back.”
“Sullivan, you didn’t even want him to fly this morning. The more he flies now, the easier he’ll find the Rider’s college.”
I knew he was right. “It’s my call. He’s my boy.”
Shi took a breath and spoke calmly. “He will not remain a child forever, and you cannot make him.”
“And what would you make him?” I snarled back then sneered. “Just like the rest of you?”
Shi reared back, his eyes hard, lips pressed into a flat line. He pulled his hand away from me like it burned, then turned on his heel and marched inside.