54. You Can Do It
~ GRACE ~
“The queen wants to attend Grace’s flight assessment,” Donavyn said casually.
It was a few days after I’d stumbled on Voski, naked in his stable, and I’d barely seen him, except for some training. But now, both Ronen and Donavyn had shown up at this afternoon’s training session.
“As long as she doesn’t interfere, I can’t see why we should discourage her. She’s attended them before,” Ronen replied.
I was so thrilled, I turned my head to look at the men over my shoulder, to see if they were serious, and promptly tripped over the dangling harness in my arms and tumbled to the ground, only barely managing to avoid eating dirt and grass.
“Oh dear, I haven’t forgotten those days,” Bren said with a laugh, reaching down to offer me a hand, then, when I was on my feet, helping me untangle the harness. “I know it feels impossible right now, but it’s not. Just keep going.”
I nodded, but my cheeks felt hot, and I desperately wanted to look at Donavyn and Ronen, to see if they thought I was an idiot.
They were already talking about my flight assessment? It was the first step to becoming a Furyknight, the first test. Before I could begin the real training for the Furyknight trials, I had to be assessed as capable and strong enough to fly on my own, without supervision.
I had to harness my dragon without help, mount her, take off without falling, fly with others in formation, follow individual instructions for flight maneuvers, then land, dismount, and remove the harness—all without help or instruction.
Apart from learning knife-throwing skills, these were the only things my squad would currently teach me. Because, they said, no Furyknight should ever be forced to share their dragon. Until I could fly alone, the rest could wait.
Bren and my squad brothers had been generous with their time this week, spending hours teaching me how to harness and mount.
But even though I had managed to get Koa harnessed a couple of times, and I’d even mounted slowly, and taken off a couple of times without falling, I still fell almost every time we landed—and sometimes when we took off, if my training buddy didn’t hold me in.
It was so frustrating!
Now, I couldn’t even walk carrying a harness? And in front of my squad captain and the general?
My cheeks flamed.
“Don’t worry about it!” Bren hushed to me, as I carried the untangled harness to Koa’s side. “You’re doing great—much better and quicker than I did!”
She’d told me how long it had taken her to have her flight assessment, and I assumed I’d take as long.
Though apparently all those years of crawling in and out of windows and climbing walls and trellises was a great foundation.
Bren swore that even though I was shorter, I was stronger than she’d been when she started.
I didn’t know if she was being kind. But I kept working. Every day. I was determined to give them no reason to deny me.
This was the first time I’d heard someone speak about my assessment, though. And it was Donavyn?
I stood at Koa’s side, Bren a few feet behind me, along with Gil, and Jhoare on Koa’s other side. Gil assured me that if I fell off while mounting, one of them would be there to break my fall.
I wasn’t sure he was joking.
I took a deep breath, looked down at the harness in my hands and spread my feet to shoulder-width apart.
This was the most difficult part of the harnessing—throwing it high enough, and with the correct arc, to get the straps up and over Koa’s shoulder and neck, without throwing it so far that it slid off the other side.
I was still learning the knack.
I took a deep breath, sank down, then on the exhale, threw the harness in a high, wide swing, praying that I wouldn’t embarrass myself again in front of Donavyn.
I almost clapped when the straps dropped, with a slap, to Koa’s withers. She chirped. She’d been nervous the first few times we did this, but she was growing more calm every day. Except with my brothers. Sometimes if they moved quickly, she would snap her head to look at them, or dance aside.
We were working on that.
‘It’s very important to impress the general,’ I told her through the link as I hurried around, buckling straps, testing them, and trying to remember to do each step in the right order. ‘So if you can stand really still when I try to mount…’
‘I will hold you.’
I smiled to myself. She meant she’d be still and be a help to me. She was using words more and more—and I loved it. I also loved the way she used them. Because she’d show me images at the same time, so I was learning better what she meant when words failed her, too.
Right now, she meant that she wanted to help, and I could trust her to be good.
I smiled.
I had learned my dragon had a playful streak, and liked to tease. I wouldn’t put it past her to be difficult if she thought it was funny.
I just prayed it was an urge she kept to moments between us, or when we weren’t in training.
A few moments later, I had the harness in place, and the buckles checked. I turned to face Ronen and Donavyn. “I’m ready, sirs!” I called as I’d been instructed.
Donavyn nodded, while Ronen trotted over to check my buckles and placement, nodding to himself as he went. “Good. You’re getting it,” he said with a smile. “Now, show me your mount.”
I didn’t hesitate, but ran to Koa’s side, grasping the strap and taking as much momentum in the run up as I could so that I was already a few feet up her leg before I had to start the extremely difficult climb, hand over hand, up the strap.
I was very slow. But Voski’s tip about locking the strap behind my hip to stand for a few seconds and give my arms a rest was a good one.
I managed to reach her withers, hook an elbow over, and clamber up after only a couple of failed attempts to throw my leg over.
I prayed the men didn’t notice when I almost lost my grip and tumbled back to the ground.
My brothers were sympathetic when that happened—and I was getting plenty of practice lying in place and assessing my body for injury. But I felt silly every time.
Once I was in my seat, Ronen formally asked if he could mount Koa. Koa chirped at the same time I nodded. Then he threw himself up the mounting strap without apparent effort—I was so envious of my brothers’ ease—sliding into place behind me as we’d done a dozen times now.
“So, walk me through it before you tell Koa to move,” he said quietly. “What are the steps?”
“Clip into the safety strap. Loop the mounting strap so it won’t dangle around her legs. Make sure I’m centered on her spine. Grip the neck straps with opposing hand positions, then pull up, as hard as I can, and loosen my hips to sink down against her when she starts to move.”
“Very good. Go ahead.”
One by one, I did as I’d described, and then when Ronen urged me to keep going, I told Koa to move, careful to remind myself to do it with words, through the link.
I’d thoughtlessly dug my heels into her sides more than once, because I was so used to horses. I was still apologizing about it.
Ronen rode with me, to help catch me if I fell.
I was only allowed to fly—on Koa, or on my brothers’ dragons—if someone else was with me.
But I’d stuck the take-off enough times now, that he didn’t put his arms around me.
He sat casually behind me, riding her launch without holding onto anything, which was astounding to me.
I’d be a real Furyknight the day I could do that.
There was always a point, just before Koa’s most powerful down-flap to raise us off the ground, that her pace became powerful—and bounced me off her spine.
I was growing stronger and getting better about pulling myself into her back. But I still fell about a third of the time if my trainer didn’t hold me down.
I was glad, with Donavyn standing at the edge of the launch hollow, that I didn’t fall this time. Though my seat slid sideways a little, I stayed upright.
“Very well done, Grace,” Ronen said behind me. “Now, wheel in a figure eight, then take her back down.”
Flying was easy by comparison. I couldn’t wait until I was cleared to fly alone and could practice standing on her back, and casting off, without others there to watch.
I’d seen the brothers doing tricks like that, and it reminded me of the things I’d always done with my horses—even riding them at a canter while I stood on their backs. But it had taken years of riding horses before my balance was good enough for that. I prayed I’d move more quickly with Koa.
She definitely had a much broader back to stand on.
I asked Koa to wheel left in a full circle, then turn and circle right.
Then we positioned to land and Koa began the difficult back-flap that would slow her descent and allow her back feet to hit the ground first—which was extremely jarring. That was the point I usually fell. If I could ride out that moment of impact, I stayed on for the landing.
My nerves trilled as we descended, Ronen quietly reminding me to pull up, but lean back, loosening my hips—where the launch was a forward tilt, the landing had to be ridden leaning back, otherwise I’d pitch off over her shoulder the moment she braced feet on the ground.
I knew, because I’d been stupid enough to try it.
I prayed the whole way down this time, begging God to let me give a good impression in front of Donavyn.
“Did he really say the queen wants to come to my assessment?” I blurted to Ronen, just before we landed.
“He did. But let’s focus on this landing before we talk about it.”
“Of course. I just—”
Koa’s back arched as she gave those powerful downflaps, dropping her hind end and swinging her tail to keep her body positioned correctly.
Moments later, the first bone-jarring thud, then the second when her front feet hit the ground.
I’d had to fight the instinct to brace my arms on her for the landing, because it felt like I wanted to stop myself hitting her back too hard.
But all my brothers and Bren assured me—pulling up on the straps and keeping contact with her back would be far more comfortable than breaking an arm or dislocating a shoulder when my elbow was locked and she hit the ground too hard.
I did bounce, but luckily, Koa’s back feet almost overstepped her front and she took a quick forward leap, that pressed her back up to my seat, so I didn’t lose position.
Then we galloped along the base of the launch hollow, and even though I bounced a little on her strides, I kept my seat.
I was thrilled, beaming at Bren, as Koa came to a stop near the other end of the launch hollow, and my brothers rushed forward, cheering.
I did it.
I did it!
“Well done!” Ronen said, clapping a hand to my arm. “I didn’t hold you, Grace. You’re getting there. You practice a few more days and you’ll be sticking your seat every time.”
I hoped he was right.
I trembled as I waited for him to dismount, then leaned over Koa’s neck, pulling my legs down so I was bent over her withers, took hold of the mounting strap, right at the top, and let my bodyweight slide down, so I could brace my feet against her shoulder.
There was a tricky moment, just when my weight got to the extension of my arms, that I sometimes lost my grip and didn’t plant my feet properly. I’d taken some painful falls already.
But not today.
Today, I grinned like Gil when he was annoying Voski, as I made my slow, but steady way down Koa’s side until there were only a couple of feet left and I could drop to the grass.
“You did it!” Bren rushed forward and hugged me, and the men clapped and whooped. Koa tossed her head and whistled, and I felt like I’d already passed the assessment.
There was still so far to go. But I could do this. I knew I could!
Then, as I worked on getting Koa unharnessed again—because that was the exercise, start to finish—Donavyn approached and he and Ronen stood nearby, discussing my assessment, while I worked.
“Kgosi says Koa needs to spend as much time with the herd as possible—it’s the only way she’ll learn the unity and connect with them all to find the trust.”
Ronen grimaced. “It’s tricky when she’s got a new matebond, and a Flameborne to train with. We really can’t have her flying off for hours during the day—Grace needs to work with her.”
“I know,” Donavyn agreed. “But that’s why I think we push hard in her training for the next assessment. Once they can fly alone, she can go with Koa. They can both be working and strengthening at the same time.”
My heart began to pound. How soon would this happen? And the queen would attend? What if I lost my nerve? Or did something stupid?
“I’ll put her on daily rotations with the squad—including Bren, who’s helping her a great deal. Even if each of us only spends an hour, she’ll get plenty of practice. We’ll get her ready.”
“For next week’s flight?” Donavyn asked.
My heart flipped in my chest. “I can do it!” I gasped, rushing out from between Koa’s legs where I’d been unbuckling a leg strap. “I’ll work. I’ll be strong enough. I can do it.”
Donavyn looked at me, one side of his mouth tipped up like he was amused, but his eyes keen. “I believe you, Grace,” he said quietly. “But it’s not only your willingness that will determine your success. There’s a certain level of finesse required.”
I nodded quickly. “I’ll keep working. I’ll find a way. They’re helping me—and I can practice the harness and mounting alone right? Just no flying?”
“Yes,” Donavyn said and Ronen grinned. “Yes, you can do that.”
“Thank you. I’ll get it!”
Donavyn looked at Ronen, who shrugged. “I believe her.”
“I do as well.”
“Then put her in,” Ronen said. “We’ll make sure she’s ready.”
When Donavyn nodded, Bren hugged me again.
‘Did you hear that, Koa? If we pass next week, we can ride alone—we can fly whenever we want!’
‘I am happy for that!’ Koa returned. ‘Very happy.’
‘I am too,’ I said, then hurried back to finish unharnessing her, so I could practice the whole thing again. ‘We’ll have to work hard, but we can do it.’
‘Yes, Firebird. We can.’