Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
Gray clouds blot out the sun as I sit atop Zephyr, the drizzle dampening my flight leathers in a stark reflection of my mood. All the flight units have mounted in the temporary arena between the magic practice area and the eyril field to await instructions. Last night’s pain retreated, leaving a hollowed chest and a pervasive sense of numbness. That said, I made Olive saddle Zephyr and fetch him from the stable. I have zero interest in ever laying eyes on Sterling Thorne again. She knows something happened between us, but no specifics. If this has proven anything, it’s that the dragoncaller information is dangerous. I refuse to put my friends at risk.
From our position in the middle of the arena, we face five tiers of seating stuffed with strangers from all walks of life. Several of them I tag as nobles, looking regal in their velvets and silks, with their ample jewels sparkling in the sun. Flags bearing the king’s crest and those of Aclaris wiggle in the faint wind.
On the highest tier, Xenon’s thronelike seat dominates the others. Two royal servants dressed in emerald green tunics stand at attention behind him. His jewel-encrusted gold crown and deep scarlet tunic stand out from the rest, as do his broad shoulders, long gray hair, and handsome face. His smooth skin and physique put his firmness on par with a much younger man’s.
Everything about him fills me with dread.
Trumpets announcing the beginning of the trial blare. Spectators shift in their seats, their muffled comments rippling through the crowd. A latecomer—a noble woman in a hooded black cape threaded with silver—follows a royal servant toward the king’s platform.
Once there, she takes the empty seat next to Xenon, lowers the hood, and raises her face.
My heart catches, and I huff out a mirthless laugh.
Besides Sterling, the last person I want to show up smooths her skirts and settles in to watch.
My fucking mother is here.
I search her familiar face, wishing I could peel back her skin and reveal the truth and the lies. I wonder if she’s in league with the king too. If she hates me because I’m Tirenese, and if that’s why she locked me away in the castle for most of my life.
If the king decides I’m not the dragoncaller, I wonder whether she believes she can cage me again.
My stomach churns.
No. I’ll never allow anyone to restrict my newfound freedom. Not without a fight. I’m a warrior now, whether I like it or not, and this new version of me battles for what she wants.
Her gaze scans the crowd and finds me. The smile she offers is fake. Worried.
I wonder what she reads in my eyes.
Commander Bigley and Vice Commander Torno climb the steps to the fifth tier, stopping to flank either side of King Xenon’s throne. Clad in their immaculate dress uniforms with the gold buttons and matching braiding on the shoulders, they remind me of a pair of human-sized bookends with their erect spines and perfectly styled hair. Actually, giant dolls might be a more apt comparison. Gods know their frozen, expressionless faces are every bit as creepy.
I’m relieved when Bigley finally moves, raising his right hand overhead. The excited chatter dies out.
“Fledglings, welcome to your first trial. Today is the day all the blood, sweat, and tears you’ve invested into your training will pay off, where you’ll showcase what you’ve learned.”
Nerves and eagerness radiate from my peers in equal measure, permeating the air with palpable tension. My muscles twitch with a combination of both. Shocking, really. The only eagerness I ever expected to feel was a hunger to finish this trial with all my limbs and sanity intact. And I do feel that, but despite everything, a part of me also wants to prove myself too. To show myself, my mother, Elijah, or any of my doubters that I can hack the program.
“Make no mistake, this trial is meant to test your limits. While your weapons have been blunted for safety, and intentionally causing severe harm to your fellow fledglings is forbidden, accidents can and do happen. Some of you will incur injuries. Potentially life-threatening ones. In past years, we’ve had students who’ve lost fingers, eyes, limbs, incurred third-degree burns, frostbite, broken bones, suffered spinal paralysis, head injuries, and, in very rare cases, death. There are no guarantees that you will finish this trial without bloodshed.”
I rub my arms to dispel the goose bumps pebbling my skin. Gods save us. This guy could really use a primer on inspirational pep talks.
Sensing the rising unease in their riders, many of the alicorns toss their heads and sidestep. A shrill whinny rings out to my left, followed by a pained cry and shouting. Heads swivel toward the source of the drama. A dapple gray alicorn lunges at a golden alicorn. Whites show around the golden alicorn’s eyes as the animal attempts to retreat and—oh, shit—I think the gray one gored him. Blood trickles down its neck from a big round wound.
Vice Commander Torno cuts in. “Fledgling Brixton. Please control your alicorn or remove yourself from the arena. Space yourselves out, everyone, and remain calm. Nerves are running high, and these animals are sensitive to their riders’ emotions. We don’t need to start tallying up the injuries before the trial even begins.”
As I chance a glance at the king, every hair on my body bristles. King Xenon’s watching me. Whatever I do, I need to ensure my dragoncaller abilities remain hidden.
Once the alicorns calm down, Bigley continues. “The trial will challenge each of you and test a range of skills, including flying prowess, map navigation, weaponry talents, magic while flying, critical thinking, decision-making under pressure, use of teamwork, and other various skills. For this year’s trial, each flight unit will be given a map. Using that map, you’ll navigate to the next map, and the next one, with the final one leading you to a box. Your mission is to recover that box and bring it to the finish line.”
Behind me, one fledgling whispers to another. “That doesn’t sound so terrible yet.”
‘Yet’ being the key word. If they believe the powers-that-be made things easy on us, they’re even more na?ve than I once was.
“You will encounter perils and obstacles along the way. Each member of the flight unit will receive a single weapon of choice. All weapons will be dulled and doused in a special transferable dye, and each team will be assigned a unique color. While returning to the finish line with the box is the biggest criteria in determining the success of a team’s mission, dye marks on both flyers and their mounts will be tallied at the end of the trial and taken into consideration for assessment purposes. Instructors and volunteers out on the course will carry weapons as well. Their assigned color is red, and they can and will attack.” Bigley cracks a tiny smile. “For those of you who’ve been a pain in the ass during classes, you’d better pray for a forgiving instructor. Otherwise, this is the perfect opportunity for them to take revenge.”
Several fledglings laugh. Bigley waits for quiet to descend before he resumes speaking. “In addition, some instructors will view the trial from various locations and share feedback about what they witness, good or bad. Does everyone understand?”
Elijah’s hand shoots up.
Bigley dips his chin in Elijah’s direction. “Fledgling Durand?”
“Can a flight unit get extra points for stealing boxes from other teams?”
“Yes. Each team can acquire the boxes however they see fit, and only the unit who crosses the finish line with the item will get credit.”
Well, that sucks.
The evil grin spreading across Elijah’s punch-worthy face sets my teeth on edge. Of course he’s the one to ask that question. Abel and I trade glances, our train of thought requiring no words.
We need to steer clear of Elijah’s unit.
“If there are no further questions, we’ll take a quick break while volunteers pass out maps and weapons and reconvene in fifteen.”
Bigley turns to converse with Torno. Voices rise as fledglings share their thoughts on the trial. The noise level swells so high, people resort to shouting. I’m yelling at Olive when a familiar shrill whistle assaults my ears.
I wince. The alicorns look pained. All the ruckus shuts off like magic.
Kinneck drops his fingers from his mouth. “All right, people, listen up. When you hear your name called, please go to that volunteer to collect your first map and your weapons.”
A man in the back starts by calling for the members of Theo’s flight unit and another one with people I don’t know very well. Our navigation instructor calls Elijah and Helene’s team.
Resnick is up next. “Fledgling Axton.”
We pick our weapons—I choose a bow and arrow, Olive picks throwing stars, Abel goes with a dagger, and Nick a sword—and learn that our dye color is turquoise. Lucky for us. Another team got vomit green.
We’re given five minutes to study the hand-drawn, freshly inked map. Instead of well-known geographic locations or obvious markers, like the mess hall, most of the illustrated points of interest are foreign.
Abel scratches his neck. “They sure don’t want to make this easy on us, do they?”
Olive rotates the map sideways. “Easy? Of course not. What’s the fun in that?”
“Your definition of fun must be different than mine,” Nick mutters.
“It could be worse.”
An incredulous Nick gapes at Olive. ‘How?”
She lifts a shoulder. “We could be completing this trial while flying blindfolded during a huge lightning storm while under attack from actual enemies.”
Abel chuckles. “Fair enough. Although, with Elijah’s crew out there, I think we’ve got the enemy part covered.”
While they confer, I continue to study the map. “I bet they created a lot of those geographical markers specifically for the trial, which means we don’t have a chance of locating them until we’re up in the air. To start, we need to focus on the couple we do recognize and use those to orient ourselves.”
Abel nudges me. “Smart. I knew I liked you for a reason.”
Kinneck whistles again and orders us to reassemble by unit near the starting line. My stress climbs. So far, no one has paid me any undue attention. I hope it stays that way, but I’m scared it won’t. Not after what I heard the king say last night.
King Xenon rises from his throne. “Fledglings, I wish you all the best of luck. The trial begins…now!”