Page 8 of Flameborne: Fury (Emberquell Academy #2)

~ brEN ~

With flying leathers laid out on my dresser and a bag in the corner next to the door, I winced into the pocked mirror I found in a tack room and moved into my little room and tugged a comb through my wet hair, then braided it quickly.

Nerves flickered in my stomach, but I stuffed them down.

The stables were eerily quiet—there was a royal event tonight. All the officers had gone to it, and many of the Academy servants had been assigned duties in the Palace for the week because so many nobles and powerful allies were visiting.

My brothers had all gone straight to bed after dinner because they had a midnight shift on patrol. I was looking forward to the day when I could rely on work as a distraction to keep my mind off uncomfortable topics.

I caught sight of my hair in the mirror, and was inexplicably reminded of the moment Donavyn had traced a tendril away from my face and—

Grimacing, I turned away. But then my eyes fell on the bag near the door, and my nerves pinched again.

Akhane’s low groan sounded in the stable in response. I sent her a soothing thought and tried again to stifle my nerves, but it wasn’t working.

I had a hunch.

Or maybe it wasn’t a hunch, but a knowing.

I shivered as I crawled into bed, remembering that day after my second trial and that cursed kiss…

Except for Ronen and Voski, my brothers were a little worse for the wear.

We’d had dinner together after they returned from shift.

They all slumped in their chairs, or leaned their temples on their knuckles, eyes puffy and faces a touch pale.

The others glared at Voski because, Gil explained, Voski didn’t suffer hangovers.

Ronen was bright, but tired. He claimed he hadn’t had much to drink the night before because he’d had an early meeting that morning and knew he’d need to be clear headed.

They all ate like horses—which made me think of Jhoare and that made me giggle.

But soon the tired conversation of my brothers turned to my ranking and the third Trial.

To a man, they claimed the third trial was both the hardest, and the most enjoyable.

“You’ll be sent on a mission,” Ronen said around a mouthful of food. “Alone. No one else will know what you’re doing, or why—and you can’t tell anyone. It’s expected that you treat the orders as you would any others in war. You drop everything and go.”

“Go where?”

“Wherever you’ve been told. It’s that simple.”

I frowned. “What if I have questions?”

Ronen shrugged. “Make your best judgment, adapt as you go. It’s an opportunity to show how you think and what you can handle without assistance.”

“Keep a bag packed at all times,” Gil said, pointing at me with his knife. “And I mean, all times. Refresh rations every day. Including waterskins.”

“Waterskins and rations—the mission is overnight?”

“Usually,” Ronen said as he stabbed a green bean with his fork.

I swallowed the roil of nerves that rose in my stomach at that thought. “Will other Flameborne have the same orders?”

“Nope. Never. Your mission is selected for you and your dragon. No one else.”

“My stealth trial was a bitch,” Voski growled from the other side of the table. “I’m convinced they wanted to push hard enough to see if I’d give up. So, don’t give up,” he said darkly, returning to his meal.

That sounded ominous.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Harle said with a dim smile. He had dark circles under his eyes and eyed his food warily. “But you do need to make sure you don’t ask for help. Or miss anything. Whatever they tell you to do, do all of it. Even if it seems silly or unnecessary.”

“Can we ask our dragons?”

“You can, but they won’t instruct you, only answer questions that show you already have a plan,” Gil said. “And they’ll only do what you ask them to, even if you’re incorrect.”

Ronen nodded. “Your dragon will know the mission is coming before you do. They always know. They won’t tell you, but they don’t like keeping secrets, so they might act strange.”

Jhoare had walked to the stable with me after the meal that night and warned me not to ask my dragon what they knew. “They hate lying. It offends them. They’ll do it if they have to, but you’re better off just to assume it’s time and get ready.”

I’d packed a bag that night and left it next to the door ever since.

That conversation was a week ago. I’d assumed there would be a month between trials again. But Akhane had been acting restless for the past three days, so I guessed it was close.

Akhane gave a soft groan again, and I reassured her. But the straw stirred. Kgosi must be curling up with her. He’d been soothing her a lot, as well. I felt terrible that she suffered because of me.

‘Don’t worry, Akhane,’ I sent her as I rolled onto my side, closed my eyes, and tried to convince my mind not to conjure images of Donavyn with dark, hungry eyes. ‘No matter what happens, it’ll all be over soon!’

‘Sleep well, Little Flame,’ she sighed.

‘Goodnight, Akhane.’

I briefly considered going out to the stable and sleeping with her, but must have drifted off before I’d finished making the decision.

I woke when it was still dark, to Akhane’s voice in my head and a breeze drifting through the crack in my door.

‘Wake up, Little Flame. A messenger is here for you,’ Akhane sent, her voice a little too high, but less tight than it had been the day before.

I frowned. A messenger? In the middle of the night? Then I gasped.

It was happening. ‘It must be the Trial orders. Tell Kgosi to let him through!’

I leaped out of bed and ran straight to the bag at the door, throwing it on the bed and picking up the flight leathers I always left out. I couldn’t dress until the messenger was gone, but I’d leave everything ready on the bed and—

“Flameborne, Second Rank, Kearney?” The voice was dark, sullen, and very recognizable.

I froze as the door creaked open to reveal Faren, in servants’ clothing, his arms folded and mouth turned down in a frown. He extended a hand and I flinched. Without thought I yanked the knife from the sheath on my leathers and brought it up—

Faren jerked back and put both his hands up in surrender. “What the fuck? It’s a fucking piece of paper. Trust me, I’m not going to touch you, Kearney. God,” he added sullenly.

I stared at him, my heart thumping in my ears—then caught sight of the folded piece of parchment paper pinned between his fingers.

“What is it?” I asked him sharply.

He rolled his eyes. “I was sent to give you your mission,” he spat.

I eyed, him warily, all my alarm bells ringing. “Why would they send you? Of all the messengers—”

“Because they’re humbling me,” he sneered.

“Whoever delivers final trial orders has to bless your mission. They said it’ll build my character, or some shit.

Look, I don’t want to do this anymore than you do, but we both have jobs to do now.

So, can you please take this and let me bless you so I can go back to sleep? ”

I was suspicious, but the dragons were awake and alert. And I was surprised to find that when I approached Faren, even though I was in my nightgown, it occurred to me that I outranked him. I could give him an order and he’d have to follow it.

The petty part of me wanted to make him go clean scatpits, or something.

But if they were sending him here to humble him, I didn’t want them deciding they needed to do the same thing to me.

When I reached the door, I kept the knife at my side with one hand and snatched the paper from his fingers with the other.

“Thank you,” I said through my teeth.

He gave me a flat look, then reached for me.

I startled and brought the knife back up, but he sighed. “I’m supposed to bless you,” he muttered. “I have to put my hand on your head.”

I didn’t want him to touch me, but at least I was the one with a knife. So, I kept the blade visible and dropped my arms, nodding at him to do his job.

He planted that big hand on my hair and muttered. ‘May your mission go as it is assigned, and may your future be clear,’ he mumbled, then yanked his hand back like there were bugs in my hair.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the stable, both dragons snorting plumes of smoke in his wake, then turning to look at me.

‘He’s gone,’ Akhane said. ‘His steps continue down the aisle.’

‘Thank you. I’m going to dress. Do you need to drink or eat before we go?’

‘What are your orders?’

‘You don’t know?’ I asked, shocked.

‘No, Bren. We’re warned that it’s coming, but we aren’t given foreknowledge. This is a test for you and me to work together. Without help.’

‘Well, now it’s here, so you can stop feeling worried, okay? We’ll leave in a few minutes.’

With shaking hands I lit the lantern in the corner and broke the royal wax seal on the paper, opening it quickly. It fluttered in my trembling fingers so I could barely read the scrawl. But I scanned it once, frowned, then put it on the bed and read it again while I dressed.

~

Enemies encamp to the north, outside our borders.

Find the camp. Gather intelligence to assist us in defending against them. Then return with the news as quickly as possible.

~

North? Where? Outside the borders? That was hours of flying!

I tried desperately to remember all the details my brothers had taught me was to be gathered if there were suspicious people or activities identified on patrol.

Once I was dressed, I threw the parchment and more charcoal into the bag in case I needed to write anything down, hefted the bag over my shoulder, and marched out into the stable.

Akhane was already on her feet, blowing smoke and steam. She was obviously worried. I could feel her tension, so I did my best to keep myself calm.

As I harnessed her, it felt surreal. I swallowed hard. This was it. This was my final test. If I passed, I’d be a pinned Furyknight. If I failed, I’d be a servant with a wasted dragon for the rest of my life.

No fucking pressure.

Akhane farewelled Kgosi, then followed me out the door and down the aisle to the western wing, towards the exit to the launch hollow. I walked out of the building knowing that the next time I walked in, there’d be no more chances. I’d either be a Furyknight, or not.

My body hummed with energy.

Night was heavy over the woods around the Academy, but the sky was barely lightening over the sea. It was still over an hour before dawn. By the time the sun rose, we’d be flying over unfamiliar terrain.

I swallowed hard, filing through all I’d learned so far, praying I wouldn’t forget anything important.

North is beyond the Palace. To stay on course from the launch hollow, fly straight towards the dueling peaks of Tanagar that can be seen in the distance once you’re higher than the tree canopy.

The dark, damp air outside brought a chill with it that I only felt where my skin was bare. There would be rain later. I checked the hood hanging behind my shoulders, making sure it wasn’t twisted or tucked in the neck of my leathers.

As we moved out of the shelter of the massive stable buildings, a stiff wind whipped up, howling between Akhane’s legs so that she danced, tossing her head when we reached the launch hollow and started down the sloped sides of that bowl in the earth.

I looked up, but there was nothing to see except stars and the tops of the trees whipping, though the wind was weaker once we dropped into the launch hollow.

‘Is it dangerous, Akhane? Will it affect your launch?’

‘Don’t fret, Little Flame,’ she said, though her mouth was open like she tasted the wind. ‘Life is dangerous. We have been called. We must answer.’

I frowned. But when we reached the floor of the launch hollow, despite her tension, Akhane stood rock-solid while I pulled myself up the mounting strap—harder to do with the large bag slung over my back—slipped into my seat, and buckled my bag and bedroll to the harness straps.

Akhane tossed her head again as I stared at the sky and wondered if this was a test. Were they waiting to see if I’d make a foolish decision and fly into a storm without question? Or, was it an ominous sign of some kind? God trying to defeat me?

But, no. Ronen had said to treat this trial like war.

His voice, remembered from one of my first classroom sessions, echoed to remind me .

“…when we’re at war, you can’t afford to consider the weather unless it will risk the life of yourself, other Furyknights, or their dragons.

Darkness can be a shroud, and the wind will help or hinder your speed.

But the only storm you avoid is lightning in the sky. Otherwise, you fly.”

I took a deep breath and reached for my dragon in the bond. While she was still agitated, she wasn’t afraid. I’d feel that.

Whatever you’re asked to do, just go. Do it.

I checked my straps one last time, clipped into the safety, then gripped the neck strap hard and took a deep breath.

“Let’s go, Akhane,” I said. “Let’s do this!” I smiled when she immediately surged into a run.