Page 101 of Swift Wings Shadowed Heart
She looks back over her shoulder.
“Thank you. I’ll always have your back, too.”
We smile, and as she leaves, I know everything is good between us.
42
Rhea
The next morning, we wake up before dawn. Despite the hour, we all look wide awake as we file down the corridor toward the lifts. Our rucksacks are heavy on our backs as our words echo in the tight space.
“I wonder if the other Clutch members will like us.”
“I can’t wait to kick some Screechclaw ass.”
“Fort Ashmire, here we come.”
Every Skyrider is full of excitement, and my friends and I aren’t the exception.
“I dreamed I killed a Screechclaw with my bare hands,” Nate says, making a choking motion with his large hands.
“Right!” Adelaide rolls her eyes. “If you managed to get that close, a Screechclaw would tear you to pieces. Those are razor sharp talons they have, not kids’ gloves.”
“Not if I set the bitch on fire first.” Nate lifts a hand and flames leap from one finger to the other.
Someone shoves him from behind, and he staggers into me. I yelp, ready to snuff his flames with a small Wind Draft, but before they touch me, he forms a fist, and the flames disappear.
“First, you’d have to improve your aim and actually hit something, Nate,” Silas sneers as he pushes through. “But I guess your mediocrity is what drives you to surround yourself with losers. Rhea is just like you and can’t hit a target either.”
The ruckus dies out as everyone switches their attention to us.
What the…?How does he know about my training issues?
Vaylen and Phoebe wouldn’t tell anyone, so that leaves Nate and Adelaide. We discussed my struggles at dinner once. I was frustrated and thought they might be able to offer some advice. I thought I could trust them, but I guess I was wrong. Which of them told him? My gaze slides to Adelaide, but she’s staring at Silas with murder in her eyes.
She’s only mad because Silas gave her away,a part of me thinks, though another part is not so sure. For his part, Nate is red with fury. Phoebe wraps a hand around his large bicep as he starts to move forward.
“He isn’t worth it,” Phoebe says, big green eyes begging Nate not to do anything stupid.
Nate meets her gaze, and his anger seems to melt under her scrutiny. His features slowly unpinching as Phoebe’s gentleness steals his fury.
Silas sneers. “You’re even worse than before. Now you even let women tell you what to do.”
Now calm, Nate’s gaze slides back to meet Silas’s. “We all owe who and what we are to a female. You wouldn’t be here without your mother and wouldn’t be a Skyblaze without Heratrix.By the Goddess, he who disparages females sooner or later pays for it.”
Everyone freezes at the curse, and even the rustle of fabric dies out. The hall is dead still. In the time of Heratrix, females were protected and revered as vessels of fertility. Hurting a woman was punishable by death, and even wishing ill on one was considered a bad omen. Among many, especially the powerful, those beliefs have died, but others—mainly those who trust Heratrix will one day return—passionately believe disrespecting females hangs a curse over your head, a curse that no one can escape no matter how powerful or rich.
“What a superstitious little bitch you are.” Silas shrugs dismissively and walks away, but the stiffness across his shoulders and his deep frown reveal that Nate got to him.
Phoebe’s hand slides down Nate’s arm, then interlaces with his. Nate’s eyes widen in surprise as he turns to look at her. She smiles sweetly, her cheeks turning bright pink and erasing her many freckles. I turn away and keep walking, allowing the moment to be only theirs, a smile of my own stretching my lips. It’s about time one of them made a move.
The lifts don’t move fast enough for my taste, but we finally make it to the surface. There’s a flurry of activity with Claws carrying boxes, saddling dragons and loading supplies onto their backs. Primes shout instructions and Skyriders and Claws alike jump to obey them. In under a half hour, seventeen enormous dragons are loaded and ready to go, Skyriders tethered to them.
From my vantage point atop Zephyros, I look all around. The sky is dotted with a few white clouds, so nothing but a mostly clear horizon stretches in front of us. I turn my gaze toward Cinderhold, wondering what awaits us there. This is what I’ve always wanted, and though I’m full of excitement and curiosity, I must admit there’s a small seed of apprehension stirring inside me. I’m headed to the front lines to fight in a war that has been going on for six hundred years and has killed many Embernians.
I’m not so naive to think I’ll be some sort of invincible heroine, able to escape death while simultaneously dispatching hordes of our enemies. No. I know I may very well be on my way to my own grave, which I guess justifies the apprehension rearing its head inside me. It’s only natural. Nothing to be embarrassed about.
—The winds are changing,Zephyros says inside my mind.
