Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Straining to pick up on the odd hum again, I stand still. But the sound has disappeared. Did I imagine the music? Or was that noise just the wind whistling through the stalks?
Awesome. As if eyril harvesting isn’t daunting enough without my imagination playing tricks on me.
Speeding up, I hurry to rejoin Olive.
In a squat next to an eyril plant, she lifts her face to mine. “You’re just in time. This one’s ready to harvest.”
Crouching beside her, I dig with the spade, careful not to butcher the plant.
In the short time I’ve been at Flighthaven, I’ve grown to cherish Olive’s friendship. I think I can consider her a friend. If my mother knew one of the recruits in my flight unit came from a family of Kamor sympathizers, though, she’d have a stroke. She’s never cared for Kamor and despises Tirene, often telling me tales of the winged brutes who killed my father.
Her stories of Tirenese attacks on our kingdom—and their subsequent atrocities that included slaughtering men, women, and children—gave Leesa and me nightmares when we were younger. Much of what my mother claimed seems more myth than reality, since our race would have died out if the Tirenese had murdered everyone. Her tales about Tirenese dragoncallers are also hard to believe.
How could anyone control a dragon with their mind and convince the beasts to attack others during a war? If that were possible, the Tirenese would have annihilated all their enemies. Yet, here we are.
But as much as I’ve been taught to hate and fear those who are different, deep in my heart, I know that mindset is wrong. Still, I can’t help my loathing of the Tirenese for taking my father from us all those years ago.
Olive taps my shoulder. “I hope it’s a good one.”
I blink. “What?”
“Your daydream.” She chuckles. “I hope whatever you were dreaming about was good.”
“Not dreaming. Just lost in thought.” I hand her the syringe of oil so she can fill the vial in her hand. “Sorry about that.”
“No need to apologize. Just don’t let Narrton see you idle.” She nods at the instructor, who’s now patrolling the field.
“Axton, Holte, quit dragging your feet.” Narrton adds an imperious sniff to his pissy comment. “Pendrick and Rummon have filled a lot more vials.”
“Sorry, sir.” I get back to work, thankful when Narrton returns to his shade tree.
With Nick and Abel nearby now, I can overhear their conversation. Apparently, they’re spending their time telling dick jokes and laughing uproariously.
Olive and I share a good gods glance.
Unfazed by our less-than-encouraging response, Nick launches into another joke. “Did you hear about?—”
“I think you should save the humor for your girlfriend.” Abel brushes off an eyril bulb like he’s been doing it for years. “Wouldn’t want you to wear them out on us.”
“She appreciates my jokes, unlike you three,” Nick snarks. “Among other things.”
Abel clucks his tongue. “Are you sure she isn’t lying to spare your delicate ego?”
Nick’s scowl returns. “I’m sure.”
As Abel continues ribbing Nick about his love life, I address Olive. “Does your family write you often?”
“My parents do.” Her eyes brighten then dull. “I wish my cousins would, though. They live in Kamor. My mom’s side of the family split off several generations ago, and half moved there. I know I’m supposed to despise them, but I can’t. They’re family.”
My heart squeezes. If I were in Olive’s situation and Leesa moved, I’d feel the same way. “I understand.”
She sighs. “I haven’t heard from them in a long time, even though I write. I hope they’re all right.”
“Maybe they’re just busy.”
“I suppose that’s possible.” She grows thoughtful, then shrugs. “Have you gotten any letters from home?”
“Not yet.”
When I straighten to stretch my spine, dizziness spins my head like one of those twisting, path-flattening storms. My legs tremble, and I sink to the dirt to avoid my knees buckling. Stupid weak spells. I keep hoping they’ll vanish as my body grows stronger, but that hasn’t happened yet.
A shadow blots the sun. Something grumbles overhead.
Clouds? A coming storm?
Using my hand to shade my eyes, I glance up and freeze.
An enormous black dragon glides across the sky. Alicorns trail the beast, arranged in groups of four.
I watch, a muted emotion tingling within, pulsing through my veins to my fingertips and toes. Joy…or maybe freedom. As the dragon soars, I can almost picture the sweeping view from the air. Flying over crashing waves…dipping close enough for the spray from those swells to dampen my face…coasting up toward the sun to dry my scales.
No hint of my fear of flying exists as I marvel. Just a yearning in my chest.
“I wonder what it’s like to fly.”
Olive’s voice shakes me from the strange vision. The dragon swoops lower and dips the wing closest to us, revealing a rider with bronze skin and a shock of wavy black hair. Instructor Thorne’s gaze locks on mine. The joyful sensation vanishes, replaced by a shiver of awareness.
He lifts one dark eyebrow, a question in his eyes. Wait. Does he know it’s me under the mask and protective gear?
Before I can do anything stupid, like wave or stick out my tongue, he guides the dragon higher until they become a small dot in the distance, the alicorns following in their wake.
By the time we finish filling our quota of vials, my back aches, my quads burn, and sweat dampens my entire body. We deposit our vials and gear and trudge toward the mess hall for dinner.
Fatigue quiets me as I fork roasted potatoes and rosemary-seasoned fish into my mouth. My weak spell in the field reminds me that I need to solve the mystery of Leesa’s whereabouts sooner rather than later. If my body gives out, they’ll ship me off to Forthaven or somewhere potentially less desirable, and I’ll lose my chance. I need to flip through Leesa’s notebooks. I still want to search Elijah’s room, too, but need a plan. It won’t go well for me if I’m caught. Thinking of Elijah makes me remember his buddy’s strange comment about Leesa and wings.
Beside me, Abel trades good-natured barbs with Nick. Theo sits with them, tossing in his two cents every now and then. When Elijah saunters in he stops mid-sentence and hisses. “That dirty bastard.”
Olive’s head pops up. “Who? Where?”
“Durand. That fucker stole my clean tunic again.”
Snorting, I watch Elijah stroll toward the food, relieved by his lack of attention. “How can you tell? All our uniforms look the same.”
Theo tosses his fork down with a huff. “Look at how tight it is. If he busts that tunic at the seams, I’m gonna be pissed. Worst roommate ever.”
“You and Elijah are roommates?”
“Yup. Lucky me.” Theo mimes stabbing himself with a dagger. “I go out of my way to spend my free time anywhere but here. I can only tolerate him in small doses.”
An idea sparks. “So, if I were to say that I wanted to search his room for evidence of Leesa’s disappearance, you’d be willing to help?”
Nick’s brow furrows. He exchanges a glance with Abel. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Entering another student’s room without permission violates?—”
“I’d love to help,” Theo cuts in, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Nothing would please my petty little heart more than pulling one over on that shithead.”
I side-eye him. “And you want to help me find my sister.”
He waves a hand. “Oh, of course. That goes without saying. Just tell me when and how, and I’ll be there.”
“Thanks. You’re the best.”
Theo grins, a faint hint of pink coloring his cheeks.
Ignoring Nick’s frown, I address the table. “Does anyone know why there are rumors claiming Leesa ran off with a Tirenese soldier? Someone made a dirty comment about how she had a thing for wings, and I couldn’t tell if it was just the product of a pathetic mind or if something prompted it.”
Abel shakes his head. “Sorry, no idea. I’d chalk it up to the pathetic mind.”
Nick grunts, obviously still unhappy with my plan to search Elijah’s room.
In agreeing with Abel, Theo and Olive squash that hope like a trodden grape.
“It’s because of that book she was obsessively reading the last week she was here.” Helene plops onto the bench beside Theo. All five of us stare. “What? I can’t help it if the lot of you are as observant as blind gophers with punctured eardrums.”
Theo’s eyebrows raise. “That was oddly specific. Also, you can’t blame us for being shocked when you constantly whine about how your roommates are beneath your notice. No offense, Olive.”
Unperturbed, Olive finishes chewing a bite of roll and shrugs. “None taken. I know that underneath that tough exterior, Helene really wants to be my best friend.”
“In your dreams,” is what I think Helene mutters, but I don’t care. I lean over the table, excitement bubbling beneath my skin.
“Which book?”
Helene heaves a loud sigh, as if bothered by my question. “The one about Tirene, obviously. There were illustrations, and Mark caught her looking at one of a Tirenese man with his wings extended.”
The bubbling sensation expands, leading to a jitter I try to expel by jiggling my leg. Tirenese. Why would Leesa be so engrossed in a book about the Tirenese? At home, Mother and I used to tease her that, for someone who wanted to be a dragonrider so badly, she had little interest in reading about other countries or studying maps. I suppose one of her classes might be responsible for triggering her interest, but part of me is convinced this is a clue.
“Any chance you know the title?”
Helene rolls her eyes and dabs her mouth with her napkin. “Why, so you can get labeled as a Tirene lover too? Not that I care,” she tacks on with haste, as if worried I might misinterpret. “And I’m not in charge of remembering all the titles people borrow from the library. It was something about the ancient history of Tirene and their legends. Now, leave me alone.”
Surprised she shared as much as she did, I happily oblige, refraining from pointing out that no one forced her to sit with us while jumping to my feet. “See you back at the room, Olive. Goodnight, everyone else.”
I hustle outside, hoping I can get to the library before the doors close.