Page 23 of The Stone Initiation
“Both.” He shakes his head. “I always find this part distasteful, don’t you?”
It doesn’t matter what I think. This is how it is. These are the rules. “We all had to take the test. The first of many.”
These potentials have no idea what they’re in for. What happens at the academy stays at the academy. It’s the only way to ensure the tests and trials aren’t compromised. The only way to ensure that anyone who passes and climbs the ranks deserves to be there.
We perch on the ledge, low down where the ravine takes a turn. From this vantage we can watch the trial take place and count the number of gargoyles that fall. The terror hawks will retreat in an hour or so. They’ll need to rest their wings, but until then, the gargoyles will have to fight to get to the other side.
Flight is a vital part of our role as guardians. Aerial combat is essential. Which brings my thoughts to the half human, tiny and fragile, still on the starting ledge. Two gargoyles remain with her. What are they planning?
“She won’t make it across,” Orix says. “Shame. She has spine. I wonder who sired her?”
“It’ll be on her application.”
“It isn’t. I checked. It saysfather unknown.”
“Bastard, whoever it is.” I have no time for absent fathers. For males who don’t take responsibility for their spawn, hybrid or not. She’s one of us, even if she doesn’t belong in the guard.
The way she stood up to the Mason boy was both stupid and admirable. He could break her easily. Hurt her easily.
My anklet heats.
No. I’m imagining it.
This is a stressful time.
Wait, what were they doing?
The female gargoyle grabs hold of the halfblood.
“Well, what do you know.” Orix chuckles gruffly as the trio dropped off the ledge and dive into the water.
My breath catches.
She’s in the water. The fool is in the fucking water.
“Smart move for the gargoyles,” Orix says. “Not so much for the halfblood.”
I can’t move. I can’t breathe, and the heat from my anklet stings my skin. Where is she?
She surfaces a moment later, and the rush of relief leaves me dizzy. Move you fool. Swim.
She does so with strong, sure, strokes, working with the current, not against it. Smart woman.
A shadowy fin slices through the waves toward the swimming trio, and my chest tightens. Come on. Faster. You can do it.
“She’s a strong swimmer,” Orix observes. “Faster than the other two.” He crouches on the ledge, gripping stone with his feet and leaning forward to watch the race.
The race, not between halfblood and gargoyle, but between halfblood and raptor fish.
If she’s bitten, she’s as good as dead. There is no cure for their venom.
She goes under briefly, and my anklet burns my skin. I bite back a hiss.
“Serath?” Orix asks. “What is it?”
The raptor is almost on her now. “Dammit, woman can’t you go faster?”
“Serath? Hey!” Orix says.
