Page 30 of Flameborne: Chosen (Emberquell Academy #1)

~ brEN ~

Hands over my head—which meant closer to the ground—I gripped the thick leather, desperately trying to lever myself back up onto the net. My knees and half my thighs were still safely on the net, but if I hadn’t had my toe hooked into the twine, I would have fallen.

Panic made me scramble, and for a few seconds I heard nothing but my own panting and the strange, squeaking cries breaking in my throat.

‘You’re safe, Bren. I won’t let you fall. Assess and overcome. Think!’ Akhane’s voice in my head was tight, but calm.

I tried again to push myself back and up, but once again was stuck. In order to pull myself back onto the net, I needed to reach back with one hand. But it felt like if I let go of the strap with one hand, my body would be too heavy and I’d lose my grip with the other.

I was stuck. I was fucking stuck!

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to curse the God who’d toyed with me, giving me that glimpse of beautiful freedom up here when I could never, ever be strong enough to do this. And I wanted to curse the day I met Ruin and the Furyknights became real and…

And I had to get my ass back on that net.

Akhane flew below me, positioned to catch me if I fell.

The shadows of other dragons rose and fell over me and her, all of them watching while I tempted death.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I registered that voices bounced off the air around me, but I couldn’t hear anything except my own breathing.

Unless I figured out a way to get back up backwards , I would die .

‘No, Bren,’ Akhane sighed. ‘I won’t allow it.’

I tried one last time to push myself up by my grip on the thick strap, but all I managed was to twist it sideways and make myself squawk. But then as the leather twisted, I lost my grip with my right hand and felt my weight shift.

I screamed as I slipped further—but then stopped.

The toe of my boot was hooked in the netting, and it caught me. Adrenaline flooded my system, but after blinking a few times, at least I could think.

I was hanging from the net with a twisted leather strap, and although I was still at risk of falling, I could feel the toe of my boot caught in the net, offering some leverage.

I examined the leather in front of me—too thick and heavy to be easily lifted, but too flat to offer any traction.

But when it twisted under my efforts, I was reminded of how Ruin would sneak into our hayloft by looping the swing rope around his leg to offer resistance.

There was no way I could support my entire bodyweight that way, the leather was too stiff.

Now that I knew I could use my foot to keep myself from slipping further, I could reach back to pull myself up.

But I needed to bring the strap with me somehow, otherwise I’d just end up in this predicament again.

Swallowing hard, and forcing myself to pull my toe up to give it better traction in the net, I prayed my foot wouldn’t slip, threw one arm back to grasp the edge of the net.

Then, when that stinging grip felt as solid as I could make it, I let go of the leather strap with the other hand, looped my arm around it so it lay all the way around my arm and elbow, then grasped it again.

With my elbow slightly bent, I could give myself some leverage to push back.

And as my weight shifted back into the net, I could draw the strap with me.

There was a nervous moment when I had my stomach back on the net, but needed to take my foot out of the net to move my body back further—and I feared the weight of the strap would pull me back over the edge.

But wriggling and gasping, finally, I made it to my knees on the net, and drew the strap up, hand over hand.

It wasn’t until I’d gotten all the way to the end—a good fifteen feet—and found that clip that I heard the cheering.

Startled, I looked up. The men whooped and clapped from their dragon’s backs, cheering my name. Some of the dragons even called.

My hands shook terribly, and my shoulder hurt from hanging onto the strap at a strange angle, but finally, I reached that metal clip, pulled my belt wide and slipped the clip over to latch on it.

When it snapped into place, closing around my belt, I let my hands drop and gripped the edge of the net, almost crying with relief.

I’d done it. I’d actually done it.

‘Well done, Little Flame! Very well done!’ Akhane cried in my head .

“Sir?” I called hoarsely to Ronen, “May I sit now?”

I was still on all fours, gripping the edge of the net. I knew he wanted me on my feet, but my body was limp, my limbs heavy. I wasn’t sure I could even get to my feet, let alone balance here at the edge.

But then, amid the cheers of the other men, Ronen called. “Flameborne, cast off .”

Everyone went silent.

I frowned. “I… what?”

“The command is cast off, Flameborne. Release your hold, and jump.”

“No,” I breathed, too quietly for any of them to have heard me over the wind, but I felt Akhane tense in the bond.

‘Bren—’

“Flameborne, attend. In the life of every Furyknight, there are three things on which we must rely: the Creator, our dragons, and our equipment. Our equipment must be properly cared for, and secured. If it is not, we will die. Your equipment today has been properly maintained by your brothers, and secured to our dragons. And now you will learn why we uphold the fastidious standards that you are about to be taught. Stand, Flameborne. Pray. And cast off.”

It felt as if this torment would never end. As if no matter how much I endured, how much fear I faced, how far I pushed myself and my body, that there would always be one more terror. One more pain.

Was that the trial? Were they waiting to see how long it took to break me?

I’d made the mistake of submitting to a Furyknight once before, and paid the price.

‘Bren, no,’ Akhane urged me. ‘This is training. Your Wing Captain teaches you. Trust him. And me. The equipment will keep you. But even if it doesn’t, I’ll catch you. Please. Don’t give up now!’

I hovered there on the edge of mutiny, on the edge of screaming, of telling them all exactly where they could go and what they could do with their training. But then I saw Akhane lift her head and turn it to meet my eye. And that fathomless gaze reached into my soul.

My dragon.

My Pair.

The bond hummed with reassurance and admiration.

Ronen gave another command that I didn’t hear.

I stared at my dragon, met her gaze, and pleaded with her. ‘Please don’t let me go. I have no one else, Akhane. No one.’

Pain sang from her heart to mine—an embrace, empathy, and grief at my words.

‘I’m here for you, Bren. Always. Now… jump.’

And with a scream that was equal parts rage and terror, I did.