Page 64 of Swift Wings Shadowed Heart
To the side, two hounds lie on plush cushions, their coats gleaming as if they’ve just been brushed. They lift their heads to watch us, before settling back down.
King Craven Stonefall sits at the end of the long room, the focal point of this carefully constructed scene. A young Claw, looking utterly mortified, kneels on the floor, struggling with a pair of new hunting boots. Behind the King, ten guards stand at attention, all men of high rank, far above a Claw. They watch us closely, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. Ten guards? He could have a hundred, and it would still be a pathetic force against two bonded Skyriders, even if one is untrained. It speaks volumes about his paranoia.
Vaylen and I stop a respectable distance from the King, waiting for him to acknowledge our presence. He continues to watch the struggling Claw with a furrowed brow, seemingly oblivious to our arrival. It’s a transparent act though, another layer to the performance he’s so carefully orchestrating in this room. Finally, after a deliberate pause and a dismissive wave at the Claw, his shifty gray eyes flick upward, as if only just now registering our existence. The Claw walks away backward, his head bowed deeply.
“Ah,” the King drawls, his gaze settling on Vaylen with thinly veiled contempt. “Vaylen. You’ve brought... it.”
It? What am I? A new cloak for his collection?
His gaze flicks to me, raking me up and down with those cunning eyes of his, acting as if I’m mud on his new boots. My skin crawls.
“This is the new bonded rider?” he asks, his tone dripping with disdain.
“Yes, Your Majesty. This is Skysinger Rhealyn Wyndward. She has bonded Zephyros. She’s this year’s top graduate from Aerie Academy.”
The King sneers as if this means nothing—not to someone of royal blood passed down a millennia-old lineage.
He stands, stamps his boots, and gestures to the Claw, who hurries back with a short leather jacket. The Claw holds it, and King Craven stuffs his painfully thin arms into the sleeves.
“Very well,” the King says, “We will have an official announcement at some point.” He rolls his shoulders, settling into the jacket, then walks off, snapping his fingers at the dogs. They jump from their cushions and follow him out the door. The guards follow, marching in unison and never looking at us.
Vaylen and I stand there until we can’t hear their heels striking the floor anymore. We exchange a glance, then leave Eastwatch Manor as quickly as we arrived.
I fume the entire way back. The bastard made us waste hours for his petty game of superiority. What a ridiculous, pompous weasel. What did he think he would accomplish with that act? Make us fall to his feet in adoration? Idiotic, because if I didn’t dislike him before, I surely dislike him now. A smarter man would treat us with decency and keep us on his side.
When we arrive back at Sky’s Edge and get out of the carriage, dragons swirl above us, my mates training, getting ahead of me.
“He didn’t even say congratulations,” I tell Vaylen.
He says nothing in reply, but his expression makes up for the lack of response. He looks angry, and I suspect that if he didn’t have a rule that prohibited him making Craven Stonefall a topic for conversation, he would have a few choice words for the jerk.
Instead, he says, “Come on. We have work to do.”
30
Rhea
Despite the time wasted, I get a chance to ride Zephyros and practice Tethering. To my satisfaction, I find that Vaylen was right and creating and controlling my own Tethers, limiting myself to two, turns out to be as natural as breathing—for the most part. For what is left of the day, we soar through the sky, first freely, then following Vaylen’s lead in complex maneuvers. My quick overview of all the signals and patterns helps me perform to perfection. Not for a moment does it appear as if I’ve missed two days of intense instructions. When my memory falters, Zephyros whispers the necessary cues into my mind, allowing me to remain in perfect synchronicity with Vaylen and Phoebe, banking left and right, diving, ascending, spiraling, feeling pure exhilaration pumping in my veins.
When we finish, my arms and legs feel like rubber. Though I tried to relax and rely on my Tethers while flying, it seems I remained tense most of the time. I imagine it will take some getting used to being a Skyrider, a creature of land and sky.
“Impressive work from both of you,” Vaylen says when we dismount, four hours after we first took to the sky. “You’re free for a shower and a meal. At fourteen hundred, there will be a meeting in the main briefing room. Don’t be late.”
He turns and leaves, his gaze lingering on me a little too long. Fortunately, Phoebe doesn’t notice. She’s too busy writing things down. It seems her annotation habit is back.
“Did Vaylen approve that?” I point at the booklet.
She gasps. “Don’t call him that.”
“Why not? That’s his name, isn’t it?” I hide my mistake behind nonchalance.
“You know why. It’s disrespectful. You’ll get in trouble if he hears you.”
“Bah!” I put an arm around her and guide her toward the lifts. “We were something up there, weren’t we?” My eyes and brows point skyward.
She forgets her grievance and lights up with a smile. “We were. Trueno is the best.”
“No, Zephyros is the best.”
