Page 103 of Swift Wings Shadowed Heart
I slow down and elbow her on the side. “It’s notthatbad. It’s just other Skysingers like us.”
“You don’t really believe that.” She shakes her head. “I wouldn’t compare myself to the likes of Dakar Cloudwalker and the Airglide Twins.”
“Wow, you really know how to rain on someone’s parade.”
That gets a small smile out of her, which is the most I can hope for.
Five Skysingers break ranks first and walk toward Vaylen. They salute him first, then shake hands and thump his back.
“’bout time you got back and stopped messin’ ‘round with some snot-nosed brats?” a tall, lean man with black hair tied into a messy knot atop his head says. Two red loops pierce his ears, and his light brown skin suggests he’s from the Neverending Flats region where desert people dwell. The jacket of his leathers has short sleeves that display well-toned muscles and intricate tattoos that look like the air currents in the Skysinger emblem. His uniform doesn’t look standard in the least. I guess once you earn yourself a name, you can break some of the rules, like Vaylen wearing no goggles. He gives Phoebe and me a once over, looking unimpressed.
“That’s Dakar Cloudwalker,” Phoebe whispers in my ear.
I puff up my chest, doing my best not to be intimidated, but this man is a legend. He’s Vaylen’s senior by at least ten years and has been in many battles and earned enough acolytes to be a household name. The rumor is that he was offered the High Prime position but turned it down.
Surreptitiously, I scan the others, turning my mother’s ring around and around. There are three women and another man. Two of the women are identical. The Airglide Twins. Each wears her brown hair in a single thick braid that spills down her back. Leather chokers circle their throats, studded with emeralds that match their green eyes. They are the King’s cousins, daughters of his only aunt. They stand nonchalantly, arms crossed. Even their expressions of indifference toward Phoebe and me are identical.
I don’t recognize the second man, but there is no doubt the woman with the confidence of a lion and the mass of dirty blond hair to match is Eleonora Nightsong. She’s tall, with legs as long as dragon’s horns. She might not be a legend like Dakar or related to the King like the Twins, but her name already graces the lips of many people in Embernia.
I can’t help but feel small. At the Academy, I was someone—one of the legends. For the next few years, they’ll be telling stories about me, at least until the first-year students graduate or perhaps longer. Here… I’m nobody, and I hate to admit I don’t like the feeling.
Immediately, I feel as if I should prove myself, and more than ever, the fact that I haven’t mastered all offensive maneuvers makes me feelless than.
Eleonora leans in to tell Vaylen something. He laughs heartily, which I’ve never witnessed. Jealousy burns in my throat like heartburn from a bad meal.
Goddess! Really?!
I’ve never been the jealous type, and feeling out of place was something I’d stop doing a long time ago, but the well-learned inadequacy of my younger years returns in force, same as the hatred I stoked into ever-burning embers.
I thought I was different from Phoebe, but it turns out I’ve been lying to myself. I feel small and shy as she always seems to be.
43
Rhea
The barracks end the illusion of privacy we had in Sky’s Edge, and we’re back to sleeping in a long, narrow room with side-to-side beds. My space is separated from Phoebe’s on the left and Adelaide on the right by barely four feet, the same arrangement as in the Academy with the same standard furniture.
We take the time Commander Voltguard gave us to organize the trunks at the foot of our beds and change out of our leathers.
“I can’t believe I’ll be training with Joseph Longstream!” Adelaide exclaims as she turns her leathers inside out to clean them.
Phoebe sits at the edge of her bed, wiping her boots with a damp cloth. “It’s surreal, isn’t it? I’ve read about many of these people in the news sheets since before I entered the Academy.”
I busy myself, kneeling by my trunk and rearranging my already tidy undergarments. I listen to the conversation with animosity. I’m still mad at Adelaide for telling Silas about my training struggles.
“Dakar Cloudwalker is something to look at.” Adelaide wiggles her eyebrows. “Do you think he has a girlfriend?”
Phoebe giggles.
Abandoning her leathers on the floor, Adelaide throws herself on the bed. “One of my Clutch mates mentioned a tavern back in town, down the hill. He said all new Skyriders are invited tonight to celebrate our arrival and, of course, getting our wings.”
“A tavern?!” Phoebe asks. “The night before we head to Hearthdale?”
It sounds unlikely to me too.
Adelaide rolls to her side and rests her head on a bent arm. “We asked the same thing, but he said the tavern closes at ten and Sky Order members are only allowed to order one beer.” She sounds disappointed. “Apparently, the Commander is so serious about this rule that neither the tavern workers nor the soldiers dare break it. He warned me to do the same unless I want to spend a week in the hole.”
“Goddess!” Phoebe finishes one boot and starts with the other. “It hardly sounds worth going and risking punishment.”
