Page 27 of Flameborne: Chosen (Emberquell Academy #1)

~ brEN ~

By the time the roar of the crowd of Furyknights was overtaken by the roar of my pulse in my skin and the wind from the dragon’s wings, I stopped screaming.

I crouched on feet and hands, panting, wobbling as the net moved under me. I was tipped forward and being dragged like waterskin catching air behind the two dragons holding the corners of the net in their talons that were feet long.

The two that had picked me up flew close, the corners of the net twisting together as my weight caused it to turn in the air so that one moment I saw sky, and the next a dizzying view of the ground. The very distant ground.

‘Little Flame, take a breath… Little Flame… Bren!’ Akhane spoke in my head with increasing urgency, but I couldn’t answer her. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think beyond chittering terror . I had been taken. It had all been a ruse.

A female Furyknight? Of course not—why had I been so easily swayed? So quickly convinced? There were no women here. Of course they didn’t Choose women.

These were men already aligned in a society. They were warriors. Furyknights. These men had already proven they were deceptive, why had I forgotten? Why had I believed?

“Head east. That way if she falls, it’s over the ocean,” the Wing Captain called over the rushing wind and the whomph of the dragon’s wings.

Horror and dread rippled down my spine .

This was a game to them. I was nothing but a game. Prey. Why hadn’t I remembered? Why had I let myself be swayed? They had asked if I had family, if anyone would miss me. Why had I said no?!

A scream lodged in my throat as the net twisted again and my stomach spun alarmingly. Yet it wasn’t the plunge to the ground that my mind conjured, but images of this group of men, this group that had greeted me as brothers but would kill me.

Or worse.

Oh God, I was going to be sick.

‘Bren, you’re not in danger! The Squad will protect you. This is training—do not fear. Who taught you such things?’

I tried to reach out for Akhane.

Akhane.

My dragon.

My female dragon. I could feel her. She had saved me. I could feel her heart. She had no nefarious plans for me.

‘Bren, open your eyes. Don’t miss the treasure of the skies!’

I hadn’t realized I’d squeezed my eyes closed until she spoke. But when I opened them we were so high up the Dragonmount cliffs seemed like sand dunes. And the quickly fading Academy buildings like children’s toys.

I sucked in a shocked breath and tried to grab for something—anything—but the netting around me swayed and gave under my hands, spinning faster and threatening to send my ham and cheese roll back up.

I tried again to find something solid on which to hold. But there was nothing. Nothing but strands of thin twine, woven in blocks. My fingers clawed through, my skin puckering in squares where it pressed hard. But these threads were all that stood between me and certain death.

As the net turned again, I made the mistake of looking down and cried out. My heart slamming in my chest.

We were so high it seemed we might reach the stars.

‘Please, Bren. Find your breath. Live. These men have never lost a Flameborne. I will not allow you to come to harm. Lift your head. This is a memory you will cherish.’

“H-how?” I stuttered. The wind was frigid, and my clothes were thin. No leather jacket as the men wore. No dragon gloves, no hide on my arms or over my head. I was already freezing and the dragons were still climbing.

How long did they want me to scream as I plummeted to my death?

Unable to get any kind of meaningful grip on the thin strands of the net, I wrapped my arms around myself for warmth, and in an attempt to balance my center of gravity and stop spinning. But pulling my arms tight only made it worse. I threw my hands back out to grip the net and shivered.

I wanted to weep. I wanted to scream. I wanted out of this fucking net.

And then I heard laughter.

“She’s almost as pale as you were, Einar! ”

“At least I didn’t shit myself.”

“That was not shit!”

“It’s been four years, Harle, no one believes you brought fudge in your pocket.”

“I told you, the Mistress of Kitchens—”

“Squad, alert!”

I flinched as the leader, riding the blue-green dragon that almost matched the sea, barked at the rest of them flying above and below us.

‘Ronen. His name is Ronen. He’s a good man.’

‘They brought me here to die.’

‘No, Bren,’ Akhane chided. ‘They brought you here to learn.’

Learn what? That men were cruel, sadistic bastards? I’d already had more than one lesson in that. And Furyknights the worst among them.

How had I let myself be enamored with these men? How had I—

“You ready, Gil?” Ronen called across to the dragon flying wing-tip to wing-tip with his own, the one whose talons held the other ends of the net.

“Ready!”

“Squad, Disperse! Lieutenant, sweep and level!”

The shadows of the squad dragons high above swept sharply away as the two dragons tight on either side and above me, carrying the net, eased apart.

At first, I was relieved when the dragons pulled further away, their talons not quite so threatening and the length of twisted net shortening which meant I swayed less.

But then the spinning grew faster, and faster. I screamed and clawed my fingers through the net holes, praying that I wouldn’t die. But I was spinning faster because the further the two dragons holding the net were pulling apart and as less slack ran between them the twists were forced to unravel.

They were pulling the net open. A mile in the sky. With me in it!

‘Akhane!’

‘Breathe, Bren.’

‘They’re going to kill me!’

‘I won’t allow you to fall—you know I won’t!’

The world whipped up and down, shadow then sun, shadow then sun, one moment I was on my back, the next on all fours.

Until suddenly the net no longer pressed my hair, or my back, and suddenly I was thrown up, weightless, clinging to nothing—until I was jerked back to center, the skin on my fingers screaming as I almost lost my grip completely.

There was more laughter, and jeers, but I couldn’t catch the words because the dragons were further away now and the wind of our passage rushed past my ears.

When my stomach was no longer in my throat and it became clear I was still alive, I found myself crouched on all fours on a rippling stretch of net. Quick glances to left and right confirmed my worst suspicions .

The dragons who’d swept me up had spread out, talons at front and back hooked into the corners of the net, and now that they’d pulled apart, I was perched on it. Unsecured.

‘Akhane! Akhane! Please!’

‘You are well, Bren. Breathe. Just breathe. And look. Your brothers cheer for you.’

Was she insane? All I heard were crazed whoops and jeers as the men raised arms and shook fists in the air.

The wind, fierce and unrelenting, pushed tears from my eyes, and on every down-flap of the dragon’s wings, my braids rippled against my back. If my fingers hadn’t been hooked in the netting, I would have been blown straight off the back and plunged to my death.

“Squad, huddle!” Ronen barked again. I couldn’t look at him, I was terrified to move my eyes from the point where my reddened hands clung. But the shadows of the dragons overhead drifted across the net, and I could once again make out the words of the men teasing each other.

“Flameborne, salute!”

I blinked. Was he talking to me?

“Flameborne Kearney, salute!”

“I’m holding on for my fucking life!” I screamed.

“Harle—show her how it’s done.”

There was a muttered curse. But a moment later, a beautiful blue bull dragon with purple crests and wingtips eased into view below the net. And on his back, one of the men pushed up on his hands and got his feet under him so he crouched on his dragon in a position similar to my hold on the net.

He craned his head up and back to look for me, winked, then looked straight ahead, raised one hand, then dropped it to clap across his chest in an exaggerated salute.

“And he didn’t even shit himself!”

“Shut up, Jhoare!”

“Both of you shut up, this isn’t a joyride,” Ronen growled. Then from the corner of my eye I saw him turn to look at me. “Flameborne Kearney, raise your right hand, then bring it to your chest in salute. We will not move on in the formations until it’s done.”

“You’re crazy!”

There were chuckles I could hear even over the wind, but I felt the heat of Ronen’s gaze from my right.

“The order has been given. Squad, do not break ranks until it is complete!” he barked.

I was numb from cold, shaking from fear, and he wanted me to salute?

‘The Flameborne’s first flight is a trial. An introduction to flight before you have built your strength for riding,’ Akhane said softly. ‘Honor your Wing Captain, Bren. Follow the order.’

I wanted to cry, but clearly these men were insane and wouldn’t stop until I’d done it .

Praying that the Creator wouldn’t see fit to pitch me into the ocean, I slowly eased my grip on the net with one hand. At first it wasn’t so bad—but when I raised my arm as Harle had demonstrated, the pull of the wind almost yanked me loose.

With a squeal and a wobble, I slapped my arm back to my chest, then grabbed for the net again, praying for mercy.

A great round of whoops and whistles sang through the sky above and below.

“She did it first time!”

“Jealous, Harle?”

“God, you guys won’t ever let me forget that, will you?”

“A mark of the Furyknight is humility, brother. Consider yourself humbled.”

“His dragon, Kyan, is humbled, anyway.”

“Enough!” Ronen barked. “You’re supposed to be examples to your new squadmate!”

Everyone quieted after that and a moment later, Ronen called across to me again.

“Flameborne, Attention!”

I froze. Attention? That was when they stood straight and didn’t move. He couldn’t mean—