Page 69 of Phixmery

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

“TODAY'S THE DAY, RAV! Wake up!” Nero shouts down the bond, causing me to jolt up, searching the room in alert.

“A little less excitement please. It’s too early for that,” I yawn, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.

He glides down off his perch, landing on the bed beside me. “But Rav, after today we leave. We’re free from here.”

“Once we escape,” I say dryly. The past week we’ve been formulating a plan. Rozen has decided to go for the Dragon Rider's faction, while Melissandre and Lennox are opting for gryphons. Ember is choosing the Berserkers and little ol’ me is going for Infantry, rumored to be the easiest to pass with the least amounts of deaths. I’m confident that we’re all making it through today. I refuse to think otherwise. Losing any of them… Well, we aren’t thinking that way.

He clucks. “Semantics.”

I know Gregor and Bren are joining Lennox and Mel, and I’ve been avoiding thinking or even dealing with Bracken. Everyone, excluding the two males, have been giving him the cold shoulder, but thankfully he hasn’t approached me since last week after I lost my composure and almost exposed everything. Although it doesn’t stop the way he smiles at me, like he’s come up with a plan to fix everything. It gives me the creeps.

Carefully, I pack away my meager belongings, leaving the uniforms and first year gear hanging in the cupboard, before taking the necessary clothing to bring downstairs to get changed. Most change here, unbothered by the others in the room, but I never have, always opting to run down the stairs, which is exactly what I do again today, with Ember and Melissandre joining me.

Before I know it I’m back in the room and the squad chambers look exactly how I remember them when we arrived: fresh bedding made and ready for new recruits, all personal artifacts packed away, empty, bare. We were told to pack all our personal items because after today, we’re either dead or moving to the West Tower to begin our second year. But the six of us won’t be coming back.

I made sure last night to grab my stash of food from the area below the castle, which the five of us split between our packs, and Lennox managed to scrounge up some weapons that won’t be missed from the armory. Nothing too fancy, just a few blades that are easily concealed within our packs.

With a glance over at Lennox, he nods. This is our moment to get our packs hidden away in the stairwell of the tunnel leading under the castle. Mel and I are going to make a cubby and hide them within the stone wall to grab during our escape tonight. The plan is to leave through the tunnels and use Rozen’s dragon and the gryphons to aid us. Hopefully we’ll be long gone before anyone notices we’re missing. But not before I grab what’s behind that cursed door—the source of that evil magick.

We follow the crowd of first years into the grand hall until Roz and I wrap an illusion around our group, making it seem like we were never there in the first place as we rush over to the officers’ quarters.

We wait, plastered against the wall, as a couple lingering officers amble past, most likely preparing for what’s to come after breakfast. When they pass, we slip behind the door and gather in the ancient stairwell.

“Okay ladies, this is all on you,” Lennox chirps, nodding at his sister and me.

We place our hands on the wall convincing the stone to carve out a place wide enough to hold our packs. The moment we pull our hands away, we all toss them in before hiding them behind a thin layer of stone: thin enough that with a strong enough hit, the wall will shatter and anyone of us could get through it.

“Perfect. You all remember the plan?” I ask as nerves begin to set in.

Rozen grins, wrapping his arm around Ember’s shoulder. “After we finish the trials, Ember, Rav and I will come back here, gather our stuff and grab the creepy dark thing below the castle and then head down into the dragons’ den through the lower tunnels, where I will take them for the ride of their lives—” She elbows him in the ribs, which causes him to grin harder after gasping for air. “The Twins will sneak out to the stables to get their gryphons, and we will all meet up at the base of the northern part of the Dreki Mountains, where we will ride hard and fast as far from here as we can get—to the northwestern part of the Gratandi Mountains—where we will come up with our next plan.”

“Exactly. Okay, before we head to the dining hall, I just want to thank you all for not letting me pull away and for keeping my secrets.” Guilt threatens to smother me for not telling them the rest, but it’s better that way—forgotten in the past where it belongs. Like most of my memories. “You all better get out of today alive or so help me I’ll come after the fates just to ream you out.”

They chuckle, and even Ember cracks a smile at that one.

“That means you too, Ravina. Go kick some Infantry butt,” Melissandre sings as she pulls us in for a quick hug.

Nodding to Rozen, we pull the Szellemi magick over us. “Let’s get back before we’re missed.”

Nero holds his head against my temple. “Everything is going to be fine,” he soothes my frazzled nerves.

And I can only hope he’s right.

THE LAST TIME the first years were standing in the courtyard like this was during the second trial, and today is much like then. Tension and anticipation are bittersweet as they saturate the mountain air.

My squad stands at attention, the fourth group in line from the front as we await Major General Rune’s orders. This was supposed to have started immediately after breakfast, but there seems to be some sort of delay.

Even Wing One seems tense at the turn of events. My gaze keeps pulling to them, specifically the three males, and they keep watching me. It’s nerve-wracking, like they seeme. I don’t know what changed. Maybe Jesper—Sergeant Verlice—told them about my scars, and the attack. Maybe they pity me. Craven especially has never thought highly of me. ‘Weak. Pathetic.’ They will never know the strength I truly have hidden under my skin. None of them will. So I watch back, knowing it doesn’t matter, because after today, I’ll never see them again.

Suddenly Rune’s voice carries out over the company of soldiers waiting. “Today marks a very special day: the day you’re given your final trial to earn your place within the Damorleian ranks.” He pauses, his gaze swiveling around the crowd. “Today we are honored by having the Lords of Damorleia join us for the first time since Phixmery began recruiting for the war against Vathia!”

At that moment, three imposing males stride out of the castle’s front doors, and instantly I can see the likeness to each of their sons. Lord Verlice has the same tone of dark, silky skin, but where his son has laugh lines and gorgeous green eyes, this face is cruel. His pale blue eyes are hard and calculating as they scan us.

Killian’s father is even easier to pick out, if not for the same towering burly size as his son, then for the eerily matching red gaze and braids of dark hair. One would say they’re a spitting image of each other; if not for the scars littering his son’s face, they could pass as twins.

And finally, Lord Craven. His black, void-like eyes are set on his son, seething in disappointment. The long, pale brown strands of his hair wash out his already pale features, and it’s then I realize that my Sergeant most certainly has received his heart-stopping looks from his mother. His domineering personality makes sense though, if this is who raised him.

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