Page 117 of Black Wing and Shadows
He whistled a shriek again, and the field exploded into movement.
To my left, Sadie leaned low over her golden griffin, Korra, her braid whipping behind her as they launched with a grace that made my stomach twist. Korra’s wings flared in perfect rhythm, their descent so smooth it looked like they were dancing.
Show-off.
Two lanes down, Akira and her yellow-golden dragon, Orix, weren’t as polished. Orix sprang too hard, his wings beating so violently the air around him churned into a miniature storm. Akira’s curses carried all the way across the field as she clung for dear life. They landed with a stumble, Orix bellowing in frustration.
Professor Hildegard’s sharp voice cut in. “Control the launch, Cadet Faraday! You let him do the flying.”
Lorenzo’s red dragon, Syth, was all brute power—launching so high, so fast, the other cadets gasped. For a moment, it looked like perfection. Then Syth plummeted back down like a stone, slamming into the ground hard enough to rattle teeth across the field. Dust plumed around them. Lorenzo staggered on top of the saddle, pale and wheezing.
Micah and his phoenix, Sera, were a story entirely different. The phoenix launched in a burst of searing flame that made the air shimmer, her wings trailing fire. The crowd of cadets oohed as Sera hovered, flames curling harmlessly off her body, Micah grinning like a natural in the saddle. Their descent was flawless, feather-light.
I grit my teeth, determination sharpening in my chest. If he could make it look that easy, so could I.
Farther down, Thora and her dark blue griffin, Sylivia, moved with icy precision. Their vertical was clean, crisp, clinical—perfect lines, no wasted motion. Hildegard gave a single approving nod.
Then Erik mounted his red dragon, Sylari. The beast roared, wings snapping wide as they shot upward with terrifying speed. But halfwaythrough the climb, Sylari did a dramatic dip, like a bucking horse. Erik yelped, sliding sideways in the saddle. Only a desperate grab at the pommel kept him from being flung into the dirt. They slammed down hard, Sylari snarling in fury.
The cadets nearest them scrambled out of the way. Erik’s face was white as chalk, his hands trembling onto the pommel.
“All of you, again!” Hildegard barked, pacing the sidelines with fire in her eyes. “Do not waste your flier’s strength with sloppy form. They will not tolerate it forever.”
Esme’s laugh rippled through me.“Sloppy form,”she said,“I think we looked spectacular.”
“We looked like we were falling to our deaths,”I snapped, adjusting my grip.
Another shrieking whistle came. The field erupted once more.
That time, I forced myself to breathe with Esme’s rhythm, to match her pulse with mine. The launch was smoother—less screaming, more balance. The descent wasn’t perfect, but it was better. My thighs burned, my hands ached, but when we hit the ground, I was still upright, still holding steady. Progress.
Around me, some cadets were improving. Others weren’t. But one truth settled heavy in my chest—this wasn’t just about drills. Hildegard was right. If we couldn’t master this, we wouldn’t survive what came next.
Feather Wing was loud as always, regardless of whether half of us were seconds away from puking our guts out from the verticals.
“Gods, Lorenzo,” Sadie called, yanking off her riding gloves after his third crash landing. “If you hit the ground any harder, they’ll start charging admission.”
“Funny,” Lorenzo wheezed, brushing dirt from his leathers. “I didn’t see you up there doing barrel rolls.”
Korra gave a sharp shriek that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
Akira groaned as Orix flapped too aggressively again, sending dust storms across the line. “I swear he’s trying to dig us both a grave.”
Micah stretched, leaning smugly against Sera’s fiery flank. The phoenix preened, flames shimmering harmlessly across her wings. “Maybe you should ask Sadie for pointers. Korra’s practically a feathered ballerina.”
“Maybe you should choke on your own smoke,” Akira snapped back.
Thora rolled her eyes, tightening Sylivia’s straps with clinical precision. “At least your fliers try. Some of us don’t get the luxury of drama. Isn’t that right, Sylivia?”
The dark blue griffin blinked slowly, like she couldn’t be bothered to dignify the chaos with a response.
Then Erik stomped over, pale and shaken after nearly being bucked into the afterlife by Sylari. “If anyone tells my mother about this,” he said, “I’ll say you pushed me.”
That made everyone laugh. Even me. Which felt strange, considering my hands were still trembling.
Esme’s silver-blue eyes swiveled toward me, her voice rich with smug amusement,“Tell him I’ll happily push him if he needs proof.”
“Don’t tempt me,”I thought back, biting a grin.
