Page 64 of Flameborne: Chosen (Emberquell Academy #1)

SOUNDTRACK: Spiral by Tommee Proffit, Sam Tinnesz, and Our Last Night

~ brEN ~

Those fuckers were trying to thwart me again.

I didn’t know how they were getting away with it.

We’d all been told the rules before we took off, and we weren’t allowed to help each other.

It had to be every man—or woman—for themselves.

Yet every time I crossed paths with Faren or Lorr, somehow the other one appeared just in time to stop us competing for the access to the rope.

Both men now held four banners, while I still only had three. I’d been so busy trying to get around these two, I hadn’t had time to watch the others. It was possible they were all on their fifth as well.

I would be the last one in unless there was a miracle.

‘Akhane—’

‘I’ll get you through this, Bren. Don’t worry.’

‘I’m not worried about you, I’m worried I’m going to fuck this up.’

Just seconds before we were given the command to launch, I’d made my final decision—to aim for the furthest rope first and work my way back.

Because the ropes were spread wide around the area, I’d hoped that the time I lost while others slowed to catch their first banners would be regained in having a shorter flight back to the clearing, sweeping through all the ropes on my return.

I’d been the last to make it into the sky, but only by seconds. And I grabbed my first two banners before I even had to think about the other dragons—but by that time, they all had three, and Faren was on the same east-to-west course as me .

Now, for the last two ropes I’d been forced to avert disaster, and slowed. Meanwhile, both Faren and Lorr were ahead of me and flying for their final banners.

I wanted to scream!

‘Stay calm, Little Flame. Focus your heart on victory, not vengeance.’

As Akhane lined up with the next rope I took a breath.

Everyone else had removed their banners from this rope already, so no one was competing for it.

My already racing heart sped faster and I urged Akhane on, but there was no choice but to slow as we grew near, Akhane back flapped and dropped her tail to slow our passage and then virtually hover next to the rope—keeping herself close without tangling it in her wing.

I’d just grabbed the short end of the banner, yanked it out of the slip knot, and was shoving it into the satchel-bag attached to my harness as I turned to look for the final rope.

Three of the Flameborne were already on their way towards the clearing to land. Two were on the other side of the flying area and wouldn’t have time to reach me before the next rope, even if they wanted to.

But Faren was now ahead of me and flying furiously towards the same final rope as me.

I couldn’t see Lorr, which made me nervous, but I urged Akhane to close in on Faren if we could, only easing back to give him room to get his banner.

We weren’t going to beat him to the rope, but once he had his, he had to leave me alone to get mine.

I’d only be seconds behind him, and even if I was last to land, at least I could have completed the task and be eligible to be passed.

That thought hit me, and for a moment I forgot about the men.

We hadn’t been pulled from the Trial. We were eligible. One more banner and we might pass if our evaluation came back high enough.

Holy shit.

My heart was in my throat, and strangely, tears pinched my eyes.

It was only by the grace of God that there was a change in the wind and ahead of me, Faren’s dragon rose on a gust—to reveal Lorr and his dragon, who’d been hidden from our sight by Faren’s dragon.

Lorr was headed straight for me, hunched over his gray dragon’s neck and crowing, one fist in the air. Faren shouted to him as they passed, while I mentally screamed at Akhane to climb and bank so we wouldn’t collide, heart in my throat.

But it was the wrong instinct. I should have told her to dive. Ascending required greater effort and as Akhane immediately tipped her head up to give me what I’d asked, I saw my mistake.

Her momentum slowed as she tried to climb, but it left us in their path longer—and Lorr coming at us a great speed.

His eyes went wide and a curse echoed across the clouds.

“Fucking idiot!”

Then we were on top of them. Lorr’s dragon screamed and took the dive at the last possible second. Akhane shuddered. I gasped worried that we’d collided—but we flew on .

The only sound was my pulse in my ears as I stretched, pressing my entire body weight against her neck, leaning into the turn as Akhane undulated, fighting to rise and twist, rolling to her side to avoid Lorr’s dragon.

‘Hang on, Bren!’

The world tilted. I was gripped by a giant’s hand, grabbing me, pulling me towards earth.

I gripped Akhane’s neck strap so tightly my arms shook and I screamed.

The wind buffeted me from every direction at once, and there was another curse from Lorr.

But every sight, sound, and sensation braided together.

I didn’t know which way was up, or have any thought beyond not colliding with that dragon.

Then, just as it seemed that giant would tear me from Akhane’s back, she turned again and this time I was pressed flat into her body as she corrected to keep me in my seat.

Moments later I blinked and the world returned to its normal speed.

We were flying, Lorr nowhere to be seen, Faren just wheeling away from the rope that was now to my left and slightly below us.

Akhane panted, but flew on.

I blinked again. ‘Akhane, are you—’

‘Concentrate, Bren! We’re almost there!’

I sucked in a deep breath and nodded quickly, shifting my grip on her neck strap and pulling myself hard against her, eyes on Faren until he was well out of our path and flying back towards the clearing.

We had a clear path! We were going to make it!

My heart thudded in my ears as Akhane raised her head and slowed, dropping her tail again and back-flapping as we drew level with the trailing rope, waving in the wind. I bit my lip and stopped breathing, scanning it for the last banner, my heart pounding mercilessly in my ears. Then I blinked.

And blinked again.

Scanned the rope—but Akhane was already level and…

“It’s not here!”

For a split second I was certain I’d gotten it wrong. Pointed her at the wrong rope and—

“Fly on!” I squeaked at Akhane, who rumbled, but let her forelegs drop and opened her wings wide and still to let the rope trail over them as she wheeled away, panting. I turned in my seat, looking over both shoulders, head spinning, near tears.

Where was it? How had I missed it? Would it take too long to go back and…

But I could see the ropes dangling, even the furthest one. And even with the ripple in the wind, even from a distance it was clear. None of them had a banner still attached.

I leaned over Akhane’s neck to look down—had we knocked one off in our approach that was so erratic ?

But I couldn’t see anything.

My stomach dropped to my toes and I bit my lip.

“It’s not there.”

Akhane let out a scream and I gripped the strap harder.

They had to have taken it. Both Lorr and Faren had both been at that rope before me. One of them had to have taken it.

‘Bren—’

‘They’ve done it, Akhane. They succeeded. I can’t finish the task. I don’t qualify. Even if my flying was evaluated high enough, they’ve done it. They finished me.’

Tears pricked my eyes, but I made myself blink them back as I grit my teeth.

I should have known. I should have fucking known.

Furyknights were not heroes. They were just men with amazing jobs. My brothers were good men, but not flawless.

Furyknights couldn’t be trusted. I’d already learned that.

Why had I been so willing to believe that it could be different?

‘No, Bren—’

But then it hit me. Maybe this wasn’t even about Faren or Lorr or any other man not wanting me to be a Furyknight. Maybe they knew something I didn’t.

Maybe I never should have been here at all. But they didn’t want to admit they couldn’t train me. Or maybe I was some kind of entertainment for the King.

The King and Queen were here, watching. I’d been so nervous and so proud, but I hadn’t let myself think—

“Bren! Bren! Get down, now! Land!”

The deep voice called from off to my right, but so much closer than I expected. I jerked my head to find Donavyn, strong and sure, flying Kgosi just a dragon’s length away.

For a moment my heart rose—he was here. He would help. We could do this.

But his eyes were piercing and expression stern. He shouted words I didn’t catch, gesturing below. Faltering, I looked down. We were about to pass over the clearing. I’d overshot because I was so busy thinking. God, I couldn’t do anything right.

“I’m sorry!” I blurted. “I thought I could do it!”

Donavyn’s expression hardened and shame coated me. I turned away and gave Akhane the instruction to spiral to the landing so at least it looked like I’d intended to position us this way.

Akhane was still panting, but so was I. My heart pounded like it would burst through my chest.

But the sad, cold truth turned into an icy stone in my stomach. A strange, floating sensation washed over me, and sound echoed, as if I heard everything down the length of a tunnel.

Like I wasn’t here .

Maybe I never had been. Maybe that was the point. But it didn’t change the fact that we’d lost. Whether they sabotaged us, or were just making sure I knew I was never supposed to be here, it didn’t matter. I hadn’t qualified.

I would never be a Furyknight.

“Poor Akhane,” I breathed, looking down on my dragon, leaning onto her neck and hugging her as best I could while still sitting. “My poor, beautiful Akhane you…”

I trailed off as I caught sight of a dark slash on her left shoulder, above and below which the beautiful light, the flickering glowing coals of a fire under her scales, had turned dead. And her black blood seeped from it like a smoky veil.