Page 7 of Black Wing and Shadows
“Griffins,” he shot out.
“Shit,” we all said at once. I knew three types of creatures served in the Rider’s branch. Dragons were most prominent, but griffins and firebirds also flew among them, though I knew far less about those. Griffins carried the head of an eagle, the body of a lion, and wings that spread wide. Most stood seven to nine feet tall at the hindquarters. Unlike dragonsand firebirds, they didn’t breathe fire, which gave me some comfort. They could, however, manipulate the weather, as well as being extremely fast and having a beak that would snap your head off.
We all made it over the wall and took a look around. Four griffins stood there, two on each side, all four of them making chuffing sounds at us. Between them was another extra-large, muddy pit with two ropes spread out about five feet apart, spanning the pit. I wasn’t familiar with this either. Shit.
Callum confidently led our squad, immediately stepping onto the rope with purpose. He leaned forward, gripping one side firmly while balancing on his ankles on the other, inching steadily forward. The air grew frigid as sleet began to cascade down, intensifying the challenge.
I studied each griffin carefully, while I waited. One was solid black, while the other had black feathers faded into shimmering gold. The third was light brown, and the last was a deep, dark blue. Interesting. I had only seen shades of black, brown, and golden griffins before, but I hadn’t spent much time around them, following my dad from fort to outpost. This was going to suck, but I had no choice but to keep going.
I climbed up and imitated Callum, my bones aching as if they might crack from shivering. My hands felt raw from all the wall and rope climbing. I sensed my body stretched to its limit, balancing between two ropes as I shimmied across, gripping as tightly as I could. I reached the midway point, took deep breaths, and tried to stay grounded.
Moving one arm over, then the other, I shifted my ankles over, falling into a rhythm. But when I tried to move my left arm again, it slipped. My right arm slipped, too. I tumbled into the cold, icy mud below. It hit like solid ground, and damn, that hurt.
“Damn it!” I screamed out.
“What did you tell me earlier? Take a breath and refocus.”
I inhaled deeply, climbing out of the mud on the other side to start over. Instantly, the sleet turned to rain, and the sun rose.
BOOM!
Lightning and rain with the sun. Nice touch there, griffins.
I climbed back onto the ropes and made another attempt. My arms and ankles were screaming from rubbing on the ropes.I would do this. I was doing this. I had this.I repeated these three lines to myself over and over as I kept going. I crossed over and stood with Callum as we waited for the rest of our squad.
“So what branch are you planning to join?” I asked him.
He let out a little sigh and low laugh all at once, which made me raise one of my eyebrows at him.
“Are you going to keep it a secret?”
He sighed again. “It’s just that the day you walked into our platoon, you saw some of the Drusearons and your eyes nearly bugged out of your head—”
I cut him off, “are you Drusearon?”
“No… I am a Shapeshifter,” he said with his voice low.
I stepped back and observed Callum. He was handsome, standing at six feet two with golden-brown skin and jet-black hair tousled from the challenges. A deep scar ran across his right cheek, matching his stubble. His eyes shined vibrant green streaked with light brown, contrasting against his dark hair.
“Oh, okay, no problems there.”
“Wait, so you’re telling me that a Drusearon gives you worry, but someone that can transform into a wolf doesn’t startle you?”
“Well, when you put it that way…” I let out a sigh. “Can you transform now? Orrrrr?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he countered.
The last of our squad made it over the ropes. We made our way to the next wall.
“Please don’t be a firebird, please don’t be a firebird, please don’t be a firebird,” I chanted to myself quietly.
I decided not to be the first one across the wooden wall this time, because I didn’t want to see any more surprises. Beau decided to go first this time, and within a couple of minutes, he yelled over, “we’re done!”
I went over the wall, and about twenty feet forward, a female Historian sat at a table, writing down our time and completion as a squad of ten. She motioned us forward to the large squad across the field.
After all the squads in our platoon finished, Pascal stood in front of us and told us that our squad was the only squad that finished as a group, but we were the slowest. For the next four days, we would be running this obstacle course in the same squads. With eleven squads, the slowest eight to finish as a group would be rucking up Watch Tower Two, down the hall, and back down Watch Tower Three.
I looked towards our squad in a“we have to get faster”look. Callum nodded at me, like he knew what I was saying. He dismissed us for dinner—wait, what the fuck? We skipped right over lunch. Did this mean we would skip lunch the whole week? Damn, that fucking sucks.
