Page 63 of Flameborne: Chosen (Emberquell Academy #1)

“The dragons do the Choosing, Your Majesty,” I said bluntly, and in normal volume so the King wouldn’t think I was trying to speak to her privately.

“I have no control over which hearts and minds they select. They claim the Creator guides their decisions. I couldn’t possibly interfere with a Divine appointment. ”

She blinked, but Diaan wasn’t easily swayed—or offended. She only nodded her head once, graciously, and gave me a small smile. “Well, it sounds as if I may need to take it up with the Creator then?”

“That would be my advice,” I said and turned towards Alexi to gently break her grip on my arm. Again.

I shouldn’t have moved, but the Queen was making me sweat, so I strode to the side of the platform to join the King and encourage him to return to the center, even offering him my spy glasses so he could watch the Flameborne close up as they were run through their paces on every side of us.

But then they were called to ground again. Part of the testing was to see the pairs both land and take off on challenging landscapes.

Gunnar and I wouldn’t follow for this portion of the testing—the Pairs were flown to various areas.

There was no way to observe all five at once.

They had to land on rocky slopes, in the middle of a forest with only a small clearing with very little room to relaunch, land in water and relaunch, and then after all that, they’d be instructed to fly high into the sky—high enough for the dragonhide leathers to be necessary to keep the Flameborne from freezing.

And only up there, in that frigid chill, would they be told to cast off, then remount their dragons during flight—a move not all of them would successfully complete.

Ronen assured me they’d practiced all these maneuvers with Bren. And though she was slower in some phases—like remounting in the air—he didn’t anticipate that she’d fail.

It was the Banner Seize we were worried about.

Once the dragons had flown out of sight, I knew they’d be gone half an hour or more, then landing below us to drink and eat before the Banner Seize.

“This would be an excellent time to go to ground if you’d like to see the Pairs up close,” I told Alexi. “They’ll all be down in the launch hollow in half an hour, drinking and eating before they fly the final phase.”

“Oh, no, we can wait,” he said, waving me off. “Don’t worry about us, Donavyn. We can entertain ourselves until they return to flight. I want to be close to the action when it begins.”

I nodded immediately but inside my guts churned.

I desperately didn’t want to be stuck here on the platform for the Banner Seize.

It was the most critical part of the Trial because it tested each pair’s connection and decisions.

Until now, everything they’d done was by order—which often tested their courage.

But if they made it through those first two phases, the Banner Seize would reveal how they thought.

And how they handled themselves when they were given freedom. It was incredibly revealing.

How they approached the problems and challenges of the game was usually the first glimpse we had of a Flameborne’s future Sigil—Flyer, Fang, or Flame.

And though final decisions wouldn’t be made until they’d completed all three Trials, after twenty years in the Furyknights, and nearly ten of those commanding, it was always fascinating to me to see if I could anticipate where a Flameborne would fit.

But short of physical danger to the royals or one of my charges, I couldn’t deny the King his request. I did find a reason to shift Alexi to stand next to his wife though.

At least I would watch the Banner Seize without her claws on my arm.

An hour later, I’d forgotten everything to do with the Queen. She and the King were just as riveted as me, watching the Flameborne and their dragons navigating this barely-controlled chaos.

We’d already had two near-collisions, though I was glad that this time at least, Bren hadn’t been one of them.

But though I hadn’t mentioned it to the royals, I was growing more and more concerned by some of the behavior I was seeing. And more and more suspicious.

Our platform dangled to the south and just barely below the level of play.

While Gunnar and the other assessors flew their dragons in a wide circle to keep the boundaries of the flight area clear, and to give them an easier view of the Flameborne in their maneuvers, I was at the same level as the Flameborne.

And catching details I might not have if I’d been above with the others.

Because when you were above flying dragons in the air with nothing nearby to give perspective, it was nearly impossible to accurately measure depth.

But here, on their level, I had different riders, ropes, and dragons to help me see.

And it was becoming clear— they’re trying to sabotage her.

There were three rules: Flameborne must only take their own banners from a rope. They couldn’t guard a rope—once they took their banner from it, they had to move on to the next. And they couldn’t assist each other. They must grasp their banners through their own efforts, not anyone else’s.

It was rare for squads to have more than one Flameborne at the same time. But it did happen. And in those cases, we flew separate games, or at different times to ensure no Flameborne entered the sky with allies—and that no squad bond was eroded by the inevitable competition.

The Banner Seize had to be a selfish endeavor.

Flameborne were instructed to form their strategies alone, and to do their best to be the first and fastest to collect all their banners.

While the timing wouldn’t effect the ultimate evaluation, how they approached grabbing their banners would.

Any Flameborne that pulled all five banners was eligible to be passed.

There were no squadmates among this group, so all eight Flameborne flew the same game—the largest number we’d allow to test simultaneously, because there were only five targets.

And that meant there were always two or three banners approached simultaneously.

But because none of them were allied, it was an equal measure of each Pair, how they competed against the others.

The ropes were far enough apart that no dragons could intentionally interfere with another aiming for a different target. But when dragons both aimed for the same rope, it became a battle of confidence and strength—or gut-twisting flying—to see who’d turn the other off their path .

But here, at the same level as the playing area, I saw a pattern that concerned me.

So far, Bren had captured two of her banners and was aiming for a third. And this was the second time in the twenty minutes that two of the same opposing Flameborne had happened to connect—forming a larger barrier for her to cross to reach her rope.

The first time, the Flameborne named Faren, the one Bren had almost hit when she rolled in the assessment, was racing her for a rope—and in the final stretch, when the dragons were wingtip-to-wingtip and someone would be forced to give way if they couldn’t draw ahead, another Flameborne, Lorr, had dropped into Bren’s line, giving her two problems and only seconds to avoid them.

With no straight shot to the rope, she’d been forced to wheel down and away to avoid both of the others. She’d wisely changed course and ascended back to the rope from ahead of it, to change her trajectory and presumably, shift targets to avoid another race with Faren to the next one.

When it happened, I had a bad feeling, but these unlucky moments occurred when there were so many dragons on the field.

But now I watched her take aim for the third rope with Lorr, the other rider who’d been involved in that assessment debacle, racing to it from the other side to challenge her head-on.

Yet, before either of them reached it, there was a scream as Faren dropped in from above to take his banner then intentionally turned into Bren’s path, despite the fact that of the two banners he had yet to collect, the closer lay in the direction of Lorr.

The royals crowded against me, cheering the dragons on, the Queen in particular greatly thrilled by Faren’s unexpected appearance. But now my hackles were up.

When Bren turned Akhane’s course and Lorr looked over his shoulder and wheeled in her direction, I knew.

‘Keg—’ My dragon, frustrated and grumbling, had been reduced to hovering above with the dragons holding our platform.

‘I saw it too.’

‘That dragon screamed. He didn’t like the maneuver. Can you speak to him?’

‘I don’t like to interfere between dragon and rider. It can be unsafe for both and affect the bond.’

I grimaced. ‘What if you don’t single them out—I can talk to the riders later. You fly in, remind them all that you’re here and—'

‘If I fly into the playing field, the dragons will all submit to me—which will create confusion for their riders and interfere with those who’ve done no wrong.’

Forgetting my companions for a moment, I swore under my breath. The King frowned, but the Queen tittered into her hand as I turned to address them.

“My apologies, Your Majesties,” I muttered. “But it seems we have— ”

There was a shout, and another scream. I’d taken my eyes off the dragons so didn’t see exactly what occurred, only registered that it was Bren and Akhane twisting to avoid the sweep of another dragon—Bren clearly unstable and Akhane screaming as she took a dive.

A high, furious curse pierced the thin air.

As Akhane leveled out and Bren pulled herself back into her seat, she glared and pointed at Lorr’s dragon flapping furiously, bugling, while Faren whipped past and snapped his fourth banner from the rope where Bren had been aiming moments earlier. And I knew.

Pure, hot rage coursed through my chest, but I snapped a lid on it.

‘Kgosi—'

‘On my way.’

“Forgive me, Majesties, but this requires my presence,” I muttered.

They both turned to me, brows high and questions in their eyes, but there was no time. “If I don’t return, stay at the center, grasp the straps when the horn is blown to keep yourself steady for the descent. Have no fear, the dragons will lower you safely.”

“But, what are you—” Diaan began.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, I’ll explain later.

” I hurriedly saluted the King, who nodded once, shocked, then I turned and ran to the edge of the platform, leaped to the railing, and dove off just as Kgosi swooped up from underneath and caught me so smoothly, I barely felt the impact.

I grasped his neckstrap with one hand, and clipped in with the other, muttering curses as he arrowed straight for the playing area, his anger matching mine.