43. Attention!
~ GRACE ~
The whole world spun. Overhead, Kham and Ronen’s dragon flew, wing-tip to wing-tip, but because the net had closed over my head and twisted into a tight mass, I couldn’t see Voski or Ronen clearly, above and in front of me.
My stomach dipped and flipped as I turned in my net cage, one moment staring at blue sky, the next at the ground. And in between, gut churning glimpses of sky, trees, or dragons flying nearby, whirling past as I rolled in the net.
At some point, I realized I was screaming.
I shut my mouth with a snap, but curled my fingers into the netting so tightly my knuckles turned white.
No matter how I moved, the net gave, and my body screamed alarm that I was about to be dropped.
But after a few, panting seconds, my heart thudding in my ears, I was able to calm and think.
The turning of the net slowed, but didn’t stop, while the squad’s dragons screamed and called.
There was the occasional shout from the men as well, but I could barely hear them over the pulsing in my ears—and then an ever-increasing boom… rush… boom.
Suddenly, the earth underneath us fell away to reveal blackened cliffs, white spray of water over dark spires of rock, and churning gray water in between.
The men shouted—laughing when I shrieked as the sight of the ocean underneath us convinced my body that I was being thrown to my death. But soon I swallowed the cries, and though my fingers ached with my grip on the netting, I blinked to clear my gaze.
Ocean below. Sky above. Dragons everywhere.
The men called orders back and forth to each other, words I couldn’t quite discern over the noise in my head, but there was no time to figure it out, because suddenly, the turning of the net reversed, and sped up.
I was rolled in the opposite direction, more quickly. My stomach pressed into my throat as I was lifted closer and closer to the dragons that flew with the corners of the net in their talons.
Then, with a final, swift roll, the netting opened and the net stretched and fluttered into a wide expanse. I crouched at its center, gripping the stiff strands so tightly my fingers ached.
The wind of the dragons’ passage made the net ripple, lifting and falling, pressing me up and dropping me down inches at a time, though the dragons kept it taut enough that I wasn’t enclosed again—which, frankly, would have been better.
This was far more terrifying than flying on dragonback.
Was that the point? Did they want to see me give up?
Taking a deep breath, I jutted out my chin and resolved to stop shivering as one of the men laughed. I swallowed nausea because the net bounced up, then down.
But the air was in my face and whipping at my hair. The dragons flapped and screamed all around me. And the sun glowed brightly above—and rising.
I was flying.
I was flying.
I smiled. My breath was still too quick and fast. My heart still pounded. And that little voice in my head still screamed that I could die in the next heartbeat. Yet…
I flew.
I swallowed hard.
This was the adventure I’d begged God to bring. And as I gained the courage to look around, I saw the ways the men sat their dragons casually—smiling.
Crouching on this net felt a great deal more insecure than flying on Kham ever had, because there was no solid spine below, warmth at my back, or steel arms bracketing me.
But I held onto the net, and soon I had found enough balance to look around—immediately locating Bren, flying on the other side of Ronen’s dragon. She waved when I turned my head.
“You’re doing great!”
My laugh was shaky, but I nodded.
Every time I looked down, past my white-knuckled hands, I saw dark seas and white spray.
The booming of the waves on the cliffs off to our left beckoned me toward death.
The waves rippled and churned, spraying against the teeth-like rocks that jutted out of the ocean near the shore and reminding me of giant fangs.
My courage wanted to fail. My belly quivering, convinced the net would split and I would fall to my death against those rocks, or drown in the rough waters.
How did they expect anyone to do this? My fingers were already numb!
Would they just fly until I fell? Or was this to be a test of my courage and strength?
That thought stopped my mental spiral.
Of course it was a test!
There was a nudge from Koa in my chest, and her sweet voice echoed in my head.
‘I make you safe.’
My heart squeezed. Even though it still beat too quickly, I could breathe again.
Yes. This was a test. And Koa was here, calling to Kham, who flew at my left. And Bren kept smiling and encouraging me, flying beyond Ronen.
This was what it meant to be a Furyknight. To fly. Together. To fly as one. This was what I’d been waiting for. And even if I hadn’t envisioned being strung on a net between two massive dragons, well, I was here.
A memory came back to me of Voski instructing me when we’d been flying.
Be fearless. Take instruction. Do as you’re told. Don’t question. Show willingness to learn…
And I remembered that moment, when he’d asked me if I wanted to die—I definitely didn’t. But I’d thought carefully about his question at the time.
Why had I willingly thrown myself off Kham when he told me? Because I really would rather plummet to my death falling from my dragon’s back, than spend a lifetime in a cold, dusty estate house with a man who considered me little more than a broodmare.
I clenched my jaw at that thought, nodding to myself. I lifted my head and kept my eyes on the dragons in front of us, and the horizon beyond them.
I could do this. I would do this. Whatever these men asked, I would do. Without hesitation. Because the only way to be certain they’d accept me, and train me, and not reject me, was if I did it without complaint or hesitation.
So, I would. Because it would be better to die trying, than to run back to the life I was trapped in before.
“…Grace!”
I blinked. To my right, Ronen’s brows were high in a question. He’d been shouting at me.
“I beg your pardon! I was distracted.”
One of the men flying close cackled a laugh at that, and several of the others hooted or called teasing comments.
I wasn’t sure what was funny, but I could feel Voski’s unamused gaze on the back of my head.
My eyes, already watering from the stiff wind, wanted to tear up.
But I swallowed it back and fixed my gaze on Ronen.
“Squad, alert!” he barked, glaring, and the men stopped laughing and talking, and suddenly the sky was quiet except for the wind thundering past my ears.
Ronen waited a moment, glaring at the others, then he turned to look past me. “You ready for maneuvers, Voski?”
Voski must have nodded, because I heard nothing, but Ronen raised his voice again. “Huddle up! Come on, we’re showing our new sister how this is done.”
The men whooped and waved their fists, but the dragons all moved to fly close together in front of us, some above, and others lower than the net.
I swallowed to wet my throat which was dried both by fear and the strong wind. But as soon as the dragons all took position and the men and Bren turned to look at Ronen, he nodded.
“Flameborne, salute!”
I waited a moment to see what they’d do—but then Bren turned to look at me over her shoulder and widened her eyes, making a shoo-motion with one hand.
“I—oh! Me!” I squeaked. I yanked one hand up to my chest, clapping that arm between my breasts—but with the shift of my weight on the billowing net, and the wind, my body was caught and I tipped sideways.
The net moved—rising and falling with my movement, so the attempt to lift a foot to catch my sideways momentum was a failure.
I tipped to my side and almost lost my grip on the net, which set my heart thundering again.
There was a short shout to my left and a pang in my chest, but I clung with aching fingers to the net and a moment later, I did as Voski had told me when I had a fall.
Take a moment. Assess.
So, I did. My fingers burned from being scraped on the net, and my shoulder was sore from the twist of my weight against that grip, but I was safe. The net rose and fell with the dragon’s flapping, but other than that, I was secure. I thought.
‘Be calm. You do well.’
Sending a quick thrust of gratitude at Koa, I grabbed for the net again. “I’ll get it!” I called to Ronen. “Just a moment!” I awkwardly spread my feet on segments of the net that were further apart to brace my weight more securely, then clasped the fist to my chest and shouted, “Sir! Yes, sir!”
A smattering of applause surprised me, and I looked up to find Bren pumping her fist, and some of the men clapping. I heard Voski’s voice among the rest and turned to look. He stared, brows high, his face pale. But he nodded, then tipped his head to Ronen.
I hurriedly looked at Ronen for the next instruction.
Ronen’s brows were high too, but his lips twisted like he fought laughter. He didn’t tease, even though I must have looked very silly, falling like that.
“Flameborne, Attention.”
I frowned. Attention? That meant to stand? I opened my mouth to ask, but Ronen obviously anticipated the question.
“Get to your feet. Release your grip on the net, and stand straight. You will not receive another order until it’s done.”
I nodded. There were more claps from some of the men, and Koa called to me.
“Put one foot a little forward of the other, Grace!” Bren called.
Ronen shot her a look, but didn’t reprimand her.
‘Koa, tell her dragon that I said I’m grateful. Please?’
A warm rush reached me from my dragon, but I’d already turned my focus to the attempt to get to my feet.
The net strands wobbled underneath me, and my toes pushed through the holes. I ended up having to place the strand in the ledge of the boot sole between my heel and the ball of my foot—but then every time I tried to let go of the net, I’d tip forward or back, arms pinwheeling.
It took enough tries to find the position of my feet on the net that would allow me to actually straighten without overbalancing, that my cheeks heated.
But finally, with stance wide, and one foot two strands ahead of the other, as Bren had suggested, I lifted both hands almost as high as my knees, and managed to keep my feet.
I grinned. I was panting, which made no sense. I had barely moved. Yet my heart thudded in my ribs and my breath was heavy.
It took long moments, and I winced as they all waited, but finally, I straightened and stayed balanced. And even though my arms pinwheeled now and again, I was at least upright.
I looked up, keeping my eyes on the horizon line, which helped.
“Hey look, Harle—she did it first time! And she didn’t shit herself!”
“Shut the fuck up, Einar! I’ve told you—”
Laughter rose in deep guffaws. Bren clapped for me, and whistled, and several of the men hooted or called my name.
I couldn’t look aside to figure out what Voski thought because it felt like I’d lose my balance if I turned my head.
But Koa screamed, and Kham answered. And it was an incredible feeling, standing as we flew.
Even with the wobbling, being upright and achieving it alone, the world was mine.
‘Koa, is this what it’s like to fly together?’
‘More,’ she sent, followed immediately by a jolt of frustrated disquiet that I had recognized meant she didn’t know the words she wanted. There was a hesitation, then she called and Kham answered. ‘Better,’ she sent with some relief. ‘It will be better.’
I smiled. ‘I can’t wait.’