Page 49 of Swift Wings Shadowed Heart
I shake my head. No. I have to trust Cindergrasp’s corruption. He must have figured out a way to lie about what happened and file a false report. If he hadn’t, he would have faced consequences, right? At least that’s what I’d like to believe. Hopefully, the corruption doesn’t run deeper than that.
Shaking my head, I stand and head for the showers. We’re due at the mess hall at dawn—only three hours from now. There, we’ll get breakfast and further instructions. If I don’t take a shower now, there’s no way I’ll sleep.
* * *
What feelslike only seconds after my shower, I scramble out of bed. I have the vague recollection that the general alarm clanked already. I must have gone back to sleep.Wyrm’s rot!How long has it been?
My dirty uniform lies on the floor. I look through the wardrobe’s open door. Six additional clean uniforms await inside, along with two freshly polished pairs of boots, and two sets of leathers. I snatch a set of the latter and get dressed in record time.
Still buckling my jacket, I exit into an empty corridor.
Shit! I’m really late.
Running down at full pelt, I pass the closed doors of my mates’ quarters. I try to picture the map they gave me after the medics took care of my injuries. It depicted Sky’s Edge layout, but I barely looked at it. I come to a stop at the crossroads of four corridors. I have no idea which way to go. Straight ahead? Left? Right?
As my head whips in all directions, I tie my hair in a knot, then notice someone walking down the corridor to the right. I follow, still running.
A female rider with a pristine tight bun walks ahead. She has red hair and walks ramrod straight.
Wait! Is that…?
My steps slow. Noticing my approach, she glances over her shoulder.
“Phoebe?!” I breathe out in surprise.
A broad smile spreads across her lips. She turns, walks in my direction, and wraps me in a hug. I stand stiffly at first, then return her embrace.
“Phoebe,” I hold her at arms’ length, and inspect her black uniform. Yes, that’s a Skyrider’s uniform for sure. “You… you made it?”
“I did. They recalled me.” Her face must hurt she’s smiling so broadly.
Before I know it, my smile matches hers, a genuine rush of satisfaction rolling over me. I’m happy for her. I’m happy for me. I’ll have a partner through the training. Someone I like, even.
Her smile falls abruptly. “But we should go, or we’ll be late.”
She grabs my hand and rushes down the hall, taking each turn confidently. We laugh like idiots, and I feel lighter than I’ve felt in weeks. As we approach a set of large doors, we slow and compose ourselves. A minute later, we step into a spacious room, lined with long tables and saturated with the rich aroma of bacon and freshly brewed coffee. The familiar aromas put me further at ease. We made it on time.
I glance around and spot Silas and Nate.
“Come on.” I gesture with a nod in their direction.
Phoebe frowns. “Um, I think I’ll sit over there.” She points at an empty table.
“Nonsense. You’re sitting with us. We’re all Skyriders now.”
She doesn’t seem sure about it but follows me anyway. At the Academy, Phoebe associated with a different group of people. None of them even made it to the Rite of Flight. In fact, many were surprised Phoebe made it, though I wasn’t one of them. She likes to fly low, outside of notice, but I made it my goal to know my competition, and I never discounted anyone. I noticed she barely made the cutoffs, performing well enough to remain in the top tier. Sometimes, she dropped a peg or two, but she was never too far down. Then a month before the end of the year, she shot to the fifth rank, securing a spot in the Rite of Flight.
Silas’s gray eyes open wide. “Phoebe?! What are you doing here? Where is Gilbert?” His tone carries a mixture of surprise and something else I can’t put a finger on. Others around the room murmur and point.
“I…” Phoebe is at a loss.
“There’s been a change,” I say. “We’re not supposed to talk about it. The Primes will explain later.” At least that’s what Vaylen said.
“What the fuck?” Silas and Nate wear matching frowns. They are clearly burning with curiosity but manage to keep their questions to themselves.
Silas and Gilbert weren’t exactly friends, but he seems to think Phoebe is weak—a risk to any Clutch and not to mention the Sky Order.
Phoebe stands there, eyes roving over the floor. She wants to flee, but I won’t let her. Wrapping an arm around her back, I guide her to the chair across from Nate’s, while I take my place in front of Silas, who wears a deep frown. With a raised eyebrow, I challenge him to say something. I will make his life a living hell if he does the same for Phoebe. This is a male dominated field, and any woman who’s made it this far has more than proven she’s got what it takes to be a rider.
