Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
ARA
“Something is up with you, Gray,” Calix voices. We sit in the library where I do my best to make up for everything I missed in Professor Myrsky’s class.
I roll my eyes at him. “Really? You too? Isn’t it enough that Mariel badgers me all the time?”
“Hey, I’m concerned for you,” Mariel speaks up. She and Calix pore over a big map, while she does her best to drill the most important landmarks into Calix’s head. Judging by his sighs, I’m not sure it’s working.
Okay, maybe I’m a little on edge. Our flight is on the first patrol since Tynan’s men know their route and schedule …
because I handed it to them. What if I misjudged?
What if they ambush them? What if one of them gets killed because of me?
What if Tate… I shove the doubts back into their dark box and bury it in the depths of my mind, only it refuses to stay put.
The flames in the two lamps sitting on the table flicker in reaction to my nerves, creating dancing shadows around the books, notes, and maps spread over the table. The eyes of my friends land on me again.
“What?” I ask.
“The tension radiating from you is bad enough to give me a headache,” Calix mutters. “I’m tempted, you know.”
“If you tamper with my emotions, I’ll smother you in your sleep,” I warn, but there is no heat behind my words.
“Same goes for me,” Mariel chimes in, and Calix grins wickedly.
“You mean all I need is my gift to get both of you in my bed?” he says in mock wonder and gasps when Mariel nearly sends him to the floor by throwing her shoulder into his side and tipping his chair at the same time.
I dissolve into giggles, and the smug grin on Calix’s face tells me he succeeded in his mission. I shake my head at him.
“Let’s go out tonight,” he suggests, and Mariel nods enthusiastically. “Since you bailed on us right after Picking, we didn’t even celebrate that we’re riders now. And if I’m not allowed to improve your mood, maybe alcohol will.” He grins at me.
I don’t feel like celebrating. I look at my friends, ready to decline, but at their pleading looks, I catch myself nodding instead.
Since our flight left this morning, we only have classes and training with the other first years for the next few days, so basically, we are on a break compared to what Tate is putting us through. Maybe celebrating is in order.
It’s already late by the time we leave the library, and even though I copied Calix’s and Mariel’s notes, I don’t feel like I know more than before. It’s frustrating.
That same evening, we put Calix's suggestion into action. Heading to a tavern flanked by Calix and Mariel and accompanied by the rest of our old flight is a strange feeling. When we step up to the gate, I nearly expect someone to stop us, but of course, no one does.
We sign out and head into the center of Telos. Mariel and Calix grew up here and know exactly where they want to go.
“Do you mind if my cousin joins us?” I ask when we pass into the merchant quarter, reminding me of the last time I was out for a drink.
I haven’t seen Sloan since the encounter with my brother, and I’m sure she would enjoy the company despite her aversion to fighting.
The others don’t mind, so we make a small detour to her house. The butler’s face when our full flight shows up at the door is priceless.
“Holy mist, your family is loaded,” Mariel says, eyeing the atrium of my uncle’s house, and I’m reminded that not all of us have a wealthy background.
I eye the open room with its intricate pillars and variety of plants.
The leaves of the trees rustle in a gentle breeze, accompanying the burble of the fountain, which dominates the center of the room.
Just like in the garden, the fountain depicts Ura, who is emptying her amphora into the basin.
“I grew up at an outpost,” I remind her. “But yes, my family is well off, I guess.”
“You can say that again,” Calix murmurs, his eyes trailing the mosaics decorating the floor and the abundance of magical lights illuminating the space now that the sun is setting.
A squeal announces Sloan, who flies down the stairs to the side and hugs me.
“You did not have to compensate for showing up alone the last times.” Sloan chuckles, her eyes wandering over the other riders. I make introductions, and then we are on our way again.
Sloan’s gaze sweeps over the guys around us repeatedly while walking between Mariel and me.
“Like what you see?” I tease.
“Maybe I do understand now why you joined that academy after all,” she says, winking at me. “Even though you had a nice view from your window at home, too.”
At Mariel’s questioning look, I explain. “Sloan enjoyed watching the men train while visiting during the summer—shirtless.” Sloan’s cheeks pinken, and I laugh.
“Oh, if you like that, maybe you should come over some time.” Calix leans between Mariel and Sloan from behind, treating her to his dazzling smile. “We are the real deal.” He winks at her, and Sloan’s color deepens. Mariel swats at him.
“Listening in on conversations is rude,” she chastises.
“I’m sorry, Blue, but how else am I supposed to stay up to date on what my favorite flight members are up to?” Since Calix still calls me Gray, he dubbed Mariel Blue. It seems red had been too obvious for his taste.
“You only say that because the rest are mostly men,” Mariel accuses jokingly, and Calix laughs, pulling her into his side.
“Now you wound me.”
I smile at my two best friends joking around.
“Are you happy?” Sloan asks. I look at her, startled.
“Of course I’m happy. Why would you ask that?”
She eyes me for a moment. “There is something different about you, darker.” She shrugs. “Are Jared and Tate coming, too?”
I look away, pretending to watch Mariel and Calix. Her question reminds me of the night she met them, and that they are out there, possibly with a target on their backs. Shit.
“No, they’re on patrol.” My voice sounds off, and I’m grateful when she doesn’t prod.
We end up at the same place Sloan and I were last time, and Calix’s reasoning that they have the best beer in Telos explains a lot.
My mind goes back to the night I ran into Tate, to the tantalizing, delicious temptation of hiding in his arms. A shiver runs through my body, followed by sadness. Gods, what would I give to go back to that moment?
More memories follow. How he accused me of spying, while holding me captive against a wall (the irony is not lost on me), him attacking Lorcan, and how he kept me close and above water after flinging us off a cliff.
His anger, then concern in front of the fire, and our kiss in the dark library.
The moments in his bedroom, when Foley nearly caught us.
He hadn’t known who I was for any of it.
The all-too-convenient knock on my door, allowing me to eavesdrop on him and Frederick, comes to mind.
Doubt worms its way into my chest. What if…
No. I stop my spiraling thoughts.
I heard him. She means nothing to me. I used her for her connections.
She is nothing but a willing body in my bed.
He’d said that, and ever since then, I can't get those damn words out of my head.
So what if the physical attraction was real?
What if someone arranged for me to overhear them?
He still said that. And if I've learned anything from growing up among men, it's that just because they want you doesn’t mean they love you.
Arriving in a group with eight trained and armed men has the benefit that we are left alone.
Despite Sloan’s objection to violence, she blends in seamlessly and seems to have a good time. I tell her as much when we make our way to the toilets.
“Your friends are great,” she agrees, looking at me, and I grab her shoulder to keep her from running into a man coming the other way.
“I’m sorry,” she stammers, looking up at him, but he only grins.
“There are worse things than a beautiful woman running into you,” he counters smoothly. “May I ask your name, darling?” His voice is gravelly, rough.
“Sloan,” she breathes, holding his gaze.
“Sloan.” He savors the name while repeating it. My eyes narrow. He’s good-looking with thick brown hair and startling green eyes and impeccably dressed—a man used to Sloan’s circles. But something about him whispers of danger.
I squeeze Sloan’s hand.
“Oh, and this is my cousin Ara.” She introduces me, like she only now remembers I’m still next to her. The stranger’s eyes land on me and run over my skyrider uniform before smiling.
“The Phoenix rider,” he states, and the hairs on my neck stand on end.
How does he know that? “Everyone in Telos talks about you,” he continues, like he read my mind.
“A very interesting family.” He smiles at my cousin, who promptly blushes.
“May we run into each other again.” He winks at Sloan, then tips his head at me and passes us.
“He was strange.”
“He was charming and so well-mannered.” Sloan nearly sighs. I shake my head at her.
“That was a predator in disguise if I ever saw one,” I tell her.
“You are overly dramatic.” She dismisses my words, and I leave it at that. We won’t see him ever again, so why burst her bubble if she enjoyed the encounter?
The following morning is sunny, and I do my best to keep my mood bright as well.
Today, we will practice flight maneuvers, and I’m excited for that.
I walk down the path toward the coop that houses our birds, with Calix and Mariel next to me.
A tree we pass is in full bloom, humming with insects as they move from flower to flower, the air sweet with their scent. A light breeze tickles my face.
“Your cousin is nice,” Calix comments, making Mariel roll her eyes.
“She’s not into men fighting for their living,” I tell him.
“What?” Both look at me now.
“Weapons, fighting, war, and all that are not her thing. So save your breath. She will never go for someone who is into ‘killing and be killed’ like she words it.”
“But men who can handle a sword are hot,” Mariel utters incredulously.
“Aw, thanks, I think you’re hot too.” Calix grins at her and chuckles when Mariel shoves him.
“Get over yourself, I didn’t mean you specifically.”
“Oh, come on, I know you love me.”
“Of course we love you,” I tell him to stop the ensuing argument. “And we know better than to land in your bed, so you’re stuck with us.” I pat his cheek, and Mariel cackles at his expression. “And I assure you that is a compliment, because my taste in men is seriously flawed,” I add.
“I knew it!” Mariel cries. “Something happened while you were gone, didn’t it? Details,” she demands. “I still owe you a life, and I’m happy to claim one instead.”
“Seriously, you’d better give us a name,” Calix warns, and warmth fills my chest. Who needs men if you have friends like mine?
Even though they continue badgering me, I don’t give them a name or details, of course. That would make the situation only worse.
Half an hour later, we have our birds harnessed and ready in front of the coop. Solaris tempered his flames and is once more mostly black.
I ordered a custom harness from the metal gifted who crafts all the weapons for my family, but for now, I have to make do with enchanted leather, and I’m not going to test how long it will withstand him in full flame. Especially not while practicing flight maneuvers.
“Okay, we set up targets over there.” Sanders points at a row of targets out in the open field, removed from the buildings. “I want you to lead a coordinated attack. That means swooping in, loosening your arrows on command, keep going, turn, and again. Who wants to lead the first round?”
Some hands raise.
“You should spend some time observing the riders in charge over the next days. Every flight will pick a decurion next week. Some of you have joined active flights already. But the rest of you will also start operating like it.” He pauses.
“So putting effort into mastering your gift and becoming one with your bird, as well as getting used to forming an entity with your flight, is advisable.”
His words create a buzz.
“Concentrate,” Sanders snaps. “I didn’t tell you that to distract, but to motivate you.” We all fall silent. “Ilario will take charge first, and remember, arrows only. I don’t want anyone using his gift here until all of you are solid in controlling it, understood?”
We nod, but his words still run through my mind once we are up in the air. I’m far from controlling my gift, even on the ground, and the flight games are creeping closer.
Our first sweep is chaotic, and arrows striking a target are more chance than anything else. On the third go, at least the release is synchronized. Hitting a target mid-flight is something else entirely.
“I think we have to practice that,” I tell Solaris, and he agrees. After three attacks, Sanders has us land and goes over our mistakes and strengths, and then we go again and again, with someone else taking the lead on every round.
We empty more than two quivers each, and I feel my arms and every other muscle in my body by the time we walk along the targets and pick up the stray arrows.
“It definitely looks easier than it is,” I grumble, and Mariel agrees.
“Are you excited for the flight games?” she asks.
“The way I’m handling this”—I indicate the target next to us—“and my gift, more trepidation than excitement.”
She scoffs. “You’ll do great. You are the Phoenix rider.”
“At the moment, it’s more likely I’ll set our whole flight aflame.”
She waves me off. “You’ll get the hang of it. When is your next training with Kyronos?”
“Once they’re back, I guess.”
“How’s it going?” she asks, and I just shrug, trying very hard not to think of all the hours I’ll be spending alone with him.