Page 119 of Black Wing and Shadows
No one dared move. The griffins crouched low, feathers slicked tight, like they respected him enough to listen.
Hildegard crossed his arms. “If you thought today was hard, enlighten yourself of the notion now. This was nothing but a warm-up. Tomorrow, we add maneuvers—dives, banks, and speed runs. Your fliers will push you harder. Some of you will eat dirt. I don’t care. You either keep up or you don’t belong here.”
Sadie muttered something under her breath that made Akira snicker. Hildegard’s head snapped their way like a hawk, and both of them went stiff.
“You think this is a joke?” Hildegard’s voice was like steel grinding against stone. “Every second in the saddle is a test. Fail, and you’re not just humiliated—you’re dead. Or worse, your flier is.”
Silence pressed heavily on us. Micah’s smug grin faltered.
Then Hildegard straightened, his expression unreadable. “Dismissed. Eat. Rest. Tomorrow, you’ll need it.”
I exhaled, realizing I was holding my breath.
Esme’s low rumble of laughter filled the back of my mind,“he likes me.”
“He terrifies me,”I thought back.
“Both can be true,”Esme said, her eyes gleaming as she stretched her wings,“wait until tomorrow. I haven’t even started having fun yet.”
By the time Professor Hildegard barked ‘dismissed’ my legs were jelly. The trek to the dining hall felt longer than any march, every step reminding me of muscles I didn’t know I had.
Esme peeled off toward the cliffs, her voice smug in my head.“Eat well, little Rider. Tomorrow I’ll shake it out of you again.”
“Can she hear herself?” I muttered, earning a curious glance from Sadie.
Feather Wing claimed the tables near the back of the mess. Trays clattered, boots scraped, and the smell of roasted meat and stale bread thickened the air. Most of us slumped into seats like corpses-in-waiting.
Sadie dropped her tray with a loud clank. “If I survive this week, someone owes me a medal. Or at least boots that don’t smell like griffin sweat.”
“That’s optimistic,” Akira groaned, collapsing beside her. “Orix nearly rolled me straight into the dirt. Pretty sure my left arm’s longer than my right now.”
“Good thing you didn’t have my dragon,” Lorenzo muttered, pushing food around his tray. “Syth would’ve launched you into the stratosphere just for the entertainment value.”
“Correction,” Erik said, still pale from Sylari’s antics. “He would’ve launched me into the stratosphere. Then eat you for dessert.”
That earned a round of tired laughter, the kind cadets use when they were too sore to manage anything louder.
Micah leaned back, balancing his spoon across his fingers like it was a weapon. “Honestly, you lot make it sound worse than it is. Sera and I could’ve gone another ten rounds.”
“Because she carried you,” Thora cut in, her voice sharp as her griffin’s talons. “We all saw it. She practically gift-wrapped that landing while you sat there grinning like a prince.”
Micah’s grin only widened. “And didn’t it look flawless?”
Akira chucked a crust of bread at his head. He caught it mid-air, popped it in his mouth, and winked.
For a moment, it almost felt normal. Almost.
Then the whispers started.
“…wasn’t just an accident. You know it wasn’t.”
“…fourth one dead, now fifth…”
“…professors can scrub stone, but they can’t scrub the truth.”
The laughter died off. Trays scraped quietly.
Sadie lowered her voice, glancing down the length of the table. “Word is, the one they found this morning wasn’t the first Rider. Making it two, now. Two Riders died in a week.”
