Page 116 of Black Wing and Shadows
Professor Hildegard stood at the edge of the field, his white braid snapping in the wind, with arms crossed over his chest. Dressed in riding leathers, his posture conveyed strict discipline.
“Wings in formation!” he barked the instant he saw us. “Simple drills today. Nothing fancy, yet. You’ll be using generic fitted saddles until Professor Yan completes your custom sets. Your task is simple—practice launches and basic maneuvers. Nothing more.”
Several cadets exchanged nervous glances.
Hildegard’s sharp eyes narrowed. “If you can’t manage a clean takeoff with the simplest of equipment, you don’t belong here, and your fliers chose poorly. Consider today your first step in proving you’re worthy of the wings you bonded.”
Assistants brought out racks of plain leather saddles, rough and utilitarian compared to the elegant ones I’d seen in the upper wings. Myhands itched at the sight. Fitting one of those onto Esme felt like dressing her in rags.
Esme rumbled in my head, amusement coloring her tone.“Oh, I cannot wait to throw you off in front of everyone.”
I nearly choked.“What?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all,”she sang, our mental bond pulsing with her laughter.
Professor Hildegard’s whistle snapped the cohort to attention. “Pair with your flier. Saddle them. Mount cleanly. We’ll start with vertical launches—straight up, straight down. If you cannot manage that, you will sit the rest of the day.”
My stomach flipped. The moment I’d been waiting for since I got there. Unlike most of these cadets, Kim’s mother flew with me often. Reminding me that Esme and I needed to have that conversation about Kim being her mother.
The saddles were heavier than they looked, the stiff leather awkward in my arms as I wrestled one free from the rack. It smelled faintly of oil and smoke, nothing like the sleek, supple gear the second- and third-years used. Generic, functional, ugly.
Esme crouched low as I approached, her tail swishing with ill-hidden amusement.“This looks ridiculous,”she drawled, lowering her head to eye the saddle,“did someone stitch this together from scraps?”
“Don’t start,” I said, fumbling with the girth straps as I hauled it onto her back. “I can barely keep my hands steady.”
“I could throw you off just by shrugging.”
My fingers slipped on the buckle. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Her silver eyes gleamed, and she didn’t bother to deny it.
Around me, the field was alive with noise—cadets grunting as they heaved saddles into place, fliers rumbling or snapping at each other, Professor Hildegard’s sharp voice cutting across the chaos like a whip. “Tighten those girths! If I can see daylight between strap and hide, you’ll be eating dirt in ten seconds!”
She straightened her leg, giving me a ramp to climb up and mount onto the saddle, a nice advantage to having a dragon. Although some dragons forced theirRiders to climb up them. My legs pressed too far apart, the leather creaking under my weight. Esme shifted deliberately, just enough to make me grab at the pommel with a yelp.
Her laughter rippled through my chest.“Oh, this will be fun.”
“Cadet Blackcreek!” Hildegard’s voice snapped across the field. “Eyes forward, back straight, hands off the horn. You cling like that, and you’ll never learn balance.”
Heat flushed my cheeks. I straightened up, letting go of the pommel. My stomach twisted with the sudden realization of how high I was—and we hadn’t moved.
“Feather Wing!” Hildegard whistled. “Vertical launch. Straight up. Straight down. Clean and controlled. On my mark… three, two, one—launch!”
Esme clenched her muscles and jumped. The ground sped away in a dizzying blur, and the rush of air hit me so forcefully that I lost my breath. My stomach churned, and every instinct told me I wasn’t supposed to be that high or moving that fast. I doubted Kim had ever launched herself that forcefully.
“Hold on,”Esme purred.“Or don’t. I’ll catch you. Eventually.”
I locked my jaw and forced my hands to stay at my sides, away from the pommel. My thighs burned as I crushed the saddle between them. The wind roared past, my pulse hammering so hard it felt like it might crack my ribs.
Esme rolled her wings, and we dropped. My stomach lurched into my throat. Breath tore out of me in a ragged gasp. Gods, we were falling—plunging like a stone. Every instinct screamed at me to grab the pommel, to claw for control that wasn’t mine. Hold steady. Don’t panic.She knows what she’s doing. She knows what she’s doing.I repeated it, but the words rattled thin against the terror flooding my chest.
Straight down. The ground rushed toward us, too fast, too close. My scream tore loose before I could stop it.
At the last possible second, Esme flared her wings and landed with bone-jarring force. My teeth rattled, my body trembling.
But I was still in the saddle. Still alive.
Professor Hildegard’s voice cracked across the field. “Better than I expected, Blackcreek. Worse than I wanted. Again!”
