Page 36 of Malcroix Bones Academy (Bones and Shadow #1)

“Very good, Miss Shadow,” Quicksilver boomed approvingly.

I glanced in his direction, alarmed, but he’d already turned away.

“Miss Nordburg!” he shouted next. “Your wings are upside down! Ask your primal to fix that for you! You’ll need to detach them entirely, then re-attach them the other way!”

I watched as a badger-shaped streak of light ran around her in a circle, looking concerned and stressed as it manipulated the magical golden threads between its paws.

Slowly, the wings began to detach from the witch’s back.

Once the badger had them free, it began to turn them counterclockwise in the air.

It was maybe another fifteen minutes before everyone had a pair of wings attached firmly to their shoulders and backs.

I glanced at Miranda, who now wore her new pair of silver wings. As she was three or four inches shorter than me, her wings dragged the ground, even though they were smaller than the pair I’d picked out.

I was still looking out over all the different colored feathers, when Quicksilver finished helping a small, Thai-looking witch with long black hair attach her lavender-colored wings, and straightened to survey our group.

“All right,” he said. “I need six of you up here. That’s the largest number myself and Ms. Keene can monitor safely.

” He motioned towards his assistant, a stern-looking student teacher with pink hair and deep black eyes.

“Listen for your name,” Quicksilver continued loudly.

“I’m taking you in order of how quickly you successfully attached your wings.

Mr. Doucester, Miss Fenrix, Mr. Strangemore, Miss Liu, Mr. Pinscher, and Miss Shadow. Step forward.”

I felt all the blood drain from my face.

No. I couldn’t have been one of the first six? That wasn’t possible.

Quicksilver was already motioning us over as he walked in the direction of the opening in the tower wall. My hands clenched, but my legs moved mechanically to follow. I had a deeply bad feeling about where all of this was heading.

That feeling was quickly confirmed.

“The best way to get over your fear of heights,” Quicksilver boomed out, to include all of those watching.

“…And to learn to trust your own magic and the magic of the wings, is to dive straight in.” He grinned around at the class.

“Literally, in this case. We find it’s better if you don’t have much time to psych yourself out.

Don’t worry, Ms. Keene and I won’t let anyone crash too badly.

She’ll be monitoring three of you, and I’ll take the other three. ”

I was not reassured.

The wind whipped harder as I approached The Eyrie’s edge.

The sun was burning through the morning mist, but the wind remained cold, and the height didn’t look any less terrifying than it had when I first noticed how small the river looked from up here.

“You’ll be fine,” a voice with a Irish accent assured me.

I turned my head, and found a strange mage watching me.

“Don’t worry,” he said, smiling. “Most of us going this first time are already licensed. Two of us are on The Skulls… the Malcroix Skyhunt team. We won’t let you fall. Quicksilver won’t let you fall, either. Anyhow, just connect with your primal, it’ll?”

“All right, Mr. Strangemore,” Quicksilver said, coming up to the mage’s other side. “Score a date on your own time. I’ll be giving the instructions here.”

The mage with the violet eyes flushed scarlet.

I pretended not to notice.

I also stopped looking over the stone ledge. I glanced to my right instead, and saw a young witch, who must be either Fenrix or Liu, as the third in our party with Quicksilver. Liu, I guessed, watched Quicksilver expectantly, her expression alert.

Quicksilver’s voice grew a little less biting as he glanced around at the three of us.

“He’s not wrong, though, Miss Shadow,” he said.

“The other flyers here all have some experience.” He gave the mage, Strangemore, an exasperated look.

“But the point of this exercise is to show you two things. One, overthinking will generally not help you in most flying situations. Things happen too quickly in the air. Instinct, focus, and magic are the key here. You’re better off letting your magic act of its own accord, while paying attention to your environment and remaining calm.

Incidentally, you’ll be trained in this mindset in Offensive and Defensive Magic, as well.

“Two,” he continued, holding up his index finger and thumb.

“How you do use your mind in the air still greatly matters. You don’t think about the mechanics of flying, but where you want to go, and what your intentions are.

This is even more crucial in a combat situation, or a strategy game such as Skyhunt, but it’s also important for regular, transportation-style flying.

Accidents are avoided when Magicals control their minds.

If you’re thinking about how so-and-so-witch annoys you while in the air, or how you’re late for this or that class or meeting or whatever else, there’s a good chance you’ll crash into that particular witch, or fly faster than you can control, and you’ll likely be the one injured. ”

I swallowed.

Quicksilver’s eyebrow quirked higher, stretching one of his scars.

“You’ll be surprised by how amazingly sensitive wings can be,” he added. “The more control you have over your mind, the better flyer you’ll be. And the better you’ll be at controlling your magic, incidentally. Understand?”

Realizing he was aiming most of his words at me, I nodded.

“In theory,” I felt the need to add.

Quicksilver smiled wider. “Which is why you’ll be jumping off this platform,” he said.

His eyes turned to Strangemore and Liu before returning to mine.

“Theory won’t help you, Miss Shadow, not directly.

Falling straight down will. And we’ll do it as many times as necessary to get you out of your head. ”

Okay, now I really wasn’t reassured.

“Ready?”

No, I wanted to burst out. No, I bloody well am not!

I didn’t get the chance.

With no warning, a strangely light, but entirely unstoppable force began shoving me to the edge of The Eyrie’s top deck.

I let out a shriek, unable to help it…

…then I was over the edge and plunging straight down.

I couldn’t even scream.

Wind rushed into my lungs and face, blinding me, causing me to throw up my arms in pure instinct to shield my face and head. The wings followed my arms, and my view of the surrounding world vanished.

Cream and chocolate feathers surrounded me in warmth and fleeting comfort, until I remembered I was plummeting straight down, possibly to my death, whatever those jerks said, and from what had to be over thirty stories.

Even if they caught me before I hit the ground?

Get out of your head, get out of your head, get out of your head.

I closed my eyes.

Darkness enveloped me.

Somehow, the least helpful thing I could imagine invaded my mind?the dense, dark, cloying space of my nightmares, the same nightmares I’d had since I was a kid. With it came the familiar crush of grief, of hopelessness, of wanting to die.

I knew the feelings too well. I used to wake up to them every morning.

I remembered being shaken awake in the middle of the night by my panicked brother, biting my tongue to stop my screaming, tasting blood as I fought the dark movies behind my eyes.

Mum’s face, eyes filled with pain, her hand, reaching for me.

I tried my damnedest to force the images away, even now, to send them back into that locked box before I started screaming again and couldn’t stop.

My aunt’s sharp voice cut into me.

“You were bellowing like a stuck banshee again.” Disgust rolled off her tongue. “Control yourself, girl. No one will show you pity, just because you’ve got a sad story. You’ll be beaten down, kicked, spat upon. Master your mind, or you’ll never be anything in this world…”

As much as I hated that voice, the familiarity of it was like a lightning strike through the gold of the wings, spasming through my spine.

I fell into a space even more familiar than the grief.

My mind went… silent.

It had taken forever to learn that, months and months, then years and years to perfect it, to make it effortless, easy. Now, it was like falling into my own bed.

The switch flicked, and my mind simply stopped.

I had no idea how long it was gone, when…

Sunlight flashed over my face.

My stomach flipped as my body abruptly changed orientation. The wind and my whipping hair no longer hurt my face and neck.

A voice shouted triumphantly, caught on a strong wind, but still loud enough to open my eyes. I turned my head, bewildered to find myself skimming over the trees. My eyes found the mage with the violet eyes flying alongside me, grinning from ear to ear.

“Nicely done, Shadow,” he called out. “You’re a firster. Got the wings out on a first jump. That’s pretty rare. If you’re any good with a bow, maybe I’ll recruit you onto The Skulls next year…”

Grinning, he saluted me, giving a tip of an imaginary cap.

I watched in awe as he tilted his wings, drew them in sharply, did a barrel roll, then came out of it and grinned as his wings spread wider.

“You try,” he urged.

I laughed, and the sound got caught on the wind.

I thought about doing a roll…

…and shrieked when my wings curled and rolled me through the air like a tumbling, out of control torpedo. I struggled to pull out of it, dipped low enough to shave off some leaves and whip a branch against my leg, then forced my mind silent again and climbed.

My wings changed orientation, and I leveled out.

When I opened my eyes cautiously again, laughter pulled my gaze to the left.

He’d swooped down to my other side, and was gliding along on massive, reddish-brown, almost copper-colored wings. His primal flew alongside him, a hawk or some other small raptor with white wings, a white body and tail, and bright red eyes.

“Did I do it?” I asked him in a shout. “The roll?”

He laughed louder. “I mean, no. Sort of? Whatever you did, it looked pretty crazy. You might want to get the hang of just flying straight for a while.”

I looked down as his words sank in.

We’d just come out from over the forest.

The river looked a lot larger now as I flew over the dark blue waters.

We were maybe eighty feet over it.

I watched the sun ripple along the waves, leaving gold diamonds.

We were coming up on the temples now, along with the Faerie Bridge.

“He might be wanting us to head back,” the Irish mage shouted next. “Quicksilver. He didn’t exactly tell us to go for a joy-flight, after all. We should head back…”

“How long have we been out here?” I asked, wondering suddenly how long I’d been flying with my eyes closed, my mind a few million miles away.

“Maybe twenty minutes?” Strangemore guessed. He dipped his wings a bit closer. “You’re Leda, right? Leda La Fey?”

“Yes,” I said, my guard going up a little. “It’s Shadow, actually. You’re Strangemore?”

“Yes! Graham,” he added, with another of those tips of the cap.

I smiled, and he waved me forward.

“Just think about wanting to return to The Eyrie,” he said, louder as he veered gracefully to make a turn. “Or, if you can’t manage that, think about how we’d both better get back before Quicksilver’s on our arses with a bow and arrow…”

I snorted.

Even so, I managed to think some combination of those things.

I marveled as the angle of my own wings changed.

They tilted precisely to curve me around with a stomach-lurching turn, then flap with muscular strokes to begin raising me higher in the air.

I could see The Eyrie in the distance already, like a strange, stone tree sticking out from the lush green of the forest. It looked unearthly in its height, and it occurred to me an instant later that it was unearthly.

I wasn’t on “Earth” anymore. I had nothing to do with that place now, apart from my brother, and he would join me here in just a few short years.

In the meantime, though, I was falling behind.

Graham Strangemore was at least four body lengths ahead of me.

Follow him, I thought?maybe at my primal or maybe at the wings. My wings beat harder and faster. Follow him, and the river, I amended next.

Keeping over the river would take me more or less straight to The Eyrie, and hopefully without colliding into Strangemore’s back.

Besides, the river was stunning in the early morning sun.

Minutes later, I’d mostly caught up with the lanky mage with the streaked blond and brown hair.

I paced him after that, flying to his left.

He grinned at me, flashing white teeth, and tilted his wings into another barrel roll.

That time, I didn’t try to copy him, choosing instead to clap.

He grinned wider, and I found myself thinking I maybe liked flying.

If I could pass this, it was one less thing to make me a freak.

It was one more thing that might make me belong.

Whether the Magical nobility and their poster child, Caelum Bones, prat extraordinaire, liked it or not, I would belong here. Maybe not quite like they did, but in my own way.

I had to believe my brother would, too.