Page 38

38

Rhea

W e break for a quick lunch of cold cuts, nuts, and fruit, then we’re back by the cliffside, ready to master a couple of more moves.

“Wind Blast is an offensive maneuver,” Vaylen says, the sun now shining straight above, “so we’ll compliment it with a defensive one.” He looks at me. “What is next in the manual, Skysinger Wyndward?”

“Wind Wall, Sir.”

He paces in front of us, hands interlaced behind him. “Correct. When you first try it, you may release Wind Blast instead. Don’t worry. That is common. It’s easy to unleash and let go of our power, and much harder to unleash it then retrain it. Another difficult aspect of the maneuver is figuring out the proper size of one’s wall. Can you tell me why, Breezehart?”

“Sir, because in order to create a Wind Wall capable of stopping an incoming attack, the Skysinger must understand the breadth of their power to form a wall of commensurate size. If the Skysinger forms an improperly sized wall, it won’t stop any incoming projectiles, be it rocks, spears, arrows, and much less a suicidal Screechclaw.” She sounds like I imagine a cogwing would sound when reciting from a book. It’s funny… and endearing.

Ever since learning about it, I’ve thought that Wind Wall would be a tricky maneuver, and now, after having performed Wind Blast, I believe it more than ever. How in all the hells am I going to rein in the amount of power I was able to blast? Wind Wall can save a rider’s life, but not everyone is capable of stopping more than a pebble. That’s the reason the type of wall a Skysinger can form is often seen as a measure of their true skill. Regardless of the force of their Wind Blasts, some Skysingers can only form walls large enough to protect themselves from a minor attack equivalent to a jab to the face. Others are capable of producing walls that span a handful of people and safeguard them all from a volley of arrows. While others manage to stop a plummeting Screechclaw bent on impaling an opponent like a flesh and blood spear. The range wind elementals are capable of in terms of wall creation is wide, though the true power resides in the Skysingers’ ability to combine their efforts to build one huge wall capable of withstanding any attack.

Needless to say, I’m worried. What if I can’t create a wall stronger than a sheet of paper?

“That is correct,” Vaylen says. “Now, there are different methods to accomplish Wind Wall. For many, it begins with Wind Blast, a surge of power that explodes outward and must then be tamed by sheer will. For me, it’s different. It’s a combination of my power and the air around me. There’s no explosion of energy, but a sudden build up in tension… as if every particle in my vicinity is growing impossibly taut. That’s the best way I can explain it. Yet for others, Wind Wall is nothing but Wind Draft with an upward direction—not so much a wall as a deviation mechanism, though still effective.”

He stretches a hand toward the cliffside. “Be my guests.”

Phoebe and I take our positions a safe distance from each other. I turn slightly to the left to ensure she’s out of my peripherals. I don’t want to be distracted by what she does.

Our dragons lie on the ground, enjoying a sunbath. They don’t seem the least bit concerned about us.

—Any advice on what I should try, Zephyros?

—None. It would be a waste of time. Human’s way of thinking is mostly baffling to me. What works for one, the other one finds useless. Dragons? We simply wish it, and we make it so.

Simply wish it and make it so. May as well try.

“Wind Wall… appear,” I say under my breath.

Nothing happens. Not like I was expecting to succeed on my first attempt.

All right, I’ll begin with Wind Blast, and then… I sway with the flow of my elemental power, then release a medium-sized attack, except this time I wish for it to become something different.

“Wind Wall… appear,” I murmur once more.

No Wind Blast comes. Instead, the air in front of me wavers, while the ground a few feet ahead seems to vibrate, causing small particles of dirt and pebbles to jump, agitated by the tightly compacted particles of air I have gathered and contained in the form of a wall.

“I did it!” I exclaim.

Vaylen, who stands off to the side examining the various spears in one of the weapon racks a group of Claws just brought in, glances over his shoulder. He abandons what he’s doing and comes closer. With the same critical eye he was just using on the weapons, he appraises my handiwork. His gaze travels upward, then to the sides, judging the size of my wall.

Bigger! I think at the wall, and it grows, the line of jumping particles stretching further right and left on the ground, creating a straight line.

Vaylen does a double take. “On your first try?”

“Second,” I shrug.

“It looks strong. Want to put it to the test?” He glances back toward the spears.

My hands fall to the sides, the wall disappearing. “What?! Already? Um, I don’t…” I shake my head.

Vaylen chuckles, a low sound that puts my hairs on end. The man drips sensuality in everything he does, and I’m not sure he’s aware of it.

“That’s an excellent Wind Wall. It will hold.” He retrieves a spear from the rack and tests it in his hand. Once he has the right grip, he lifts it, acquiring the proper throwing stance—one foot in front of the other, his arm and spear cocked back and leveled with his ear.

Behind me, Phoebe yelps and runs to stand at Vaylen’s side. On the other end of the plateau, a huge ball of fire erupts from where the Skyblazes train, climbing toward the sky like a second sun. We get distracted by it and watch it burn an upward straight path until it hits a gray cloud and hisses angrily, searing the cloud out of existence and leaving only blue sky in its place.

“Holy Heratrix,” Phoebe says under her breath. “That was awesome.”

“Not bad, indeed.” Vaylen nods approvingly, while I wonder if that was Silas’s or Nate’s doing. I’m rooting for the latter, of course.

Returning his attention to me, Vaylen rechecks his grip on the spear, aims it straight at my chest, and lets it loose without as much as a warning.

I barely have time to panic and act on pure instinct. I sense Zephyros’s sudden awakening from what has turned into a deep afternoon nap as he senses the threat. He’s late to the show, though. My arms are already up, and a wish for a strong wall has been issued at the speed of thought—a speed much faster than Vaylen’s spear.

The weapon hits my barrier with a loud clunk as if it has hit a wall made of stone and not air. I blink at the weapon as it clatters to the ground and lands several feet away. My wall dissolves as Zephyros growls, one silver eye set on Vaylen.

—I will kill him. He lowers his head, his maw opening.

Behind him Fragor stirs from his own nap.

“No!” I run and stand between Zephyros and Vaylen, waving my hands overhead like a lunatic.

—He attacked you. A growl rumbles in Zephyros’s throat.

—Settle down. It’s all part of training. Besides, I’m fine.

Vaylen appears at my side and addresses Zephyros. “You know well no harm would have come to your rider.”

Zephyros growls again, and the sense I get from him is one of reluctant acquiescence. Lowering my hands, I give Vaylen a questioning glance.

He sighs in frustration and picks up the discarded spear. “You don’t honestly think I would hurt one of my Skysingers, do you?”

Pivoting toward the cliffside, he hurls the spear into the air. Right as it reaches the edge, he twirls his wrist and pulls back. The spear’s trajectory changes, and instead of nose diving to the bottom of the plateau, it travels upward as if headed for the sun. With another twist of his hand, the spear flips, its tip now aimed at the earth. With that, it plummets, embedding itself into the ground a foot from the cliff’s edge.

Phoebe and I exchange glances. She looks as impressed as I feel. That was an amazing show of skill.

Vaylen glances as Zephyros over his shoulder. “You know I would never hurt one of my own. Don’t use that as an excuse to stir whatever dispute is between you and Fragor.”

“What is between those two?” Phoebe whispers, leaning close.

“No idea. Maybe your dragon knows and can tell you.”

Phoebe’s eyebrows draw together. “Huh?”

Realizing my slip up, I laugh it off. “Just kidding. I’d love to know why they seem to have more drama than a periodical serial.”

Phoebe laughs at the comparison, assuming my mistake was a joke. Luckily, Vaylen didn’t hear me. He already seems suspicious of the way Zephyros and I interact.

Once the dragons settle back down, Phoebe takes some time to accomplish Wind Wall. It doesn’t come as easily to her as it did to me, but she finally conquers the maneuver, much to Vaylen’s satisfaction.

“The next maneuver is another attack… Wind Spear,” Vaylen announces. “This one is much harder.”

In our Academy textbooks, the maneuvers were presented in order of difficulty, and that seems to be the order in which we’ll learn them. That means that afterward we’ll practice Wind Dagger, Wind Whirl, Vortex Drop, Vortex Lift and all the others. This morning I wasn’t sure if I would be able to master all of them, but if all I have to do is wish things into existence, I have nothing to worry about.

This time Vaylen has us face the stone wall that rises before us to form a higher level of the plateau. Wooden targets with bull’s-eyes are nailed to its surface, something else the Claws installed.

“This one, of course, is similar to Wind Blast, except subtle and pointed . You must gather the force of your power into a straight and narrow line and hurl it with enough force to pierce the target. Like this…”

The air crackles with anticipation as he raises his hand. I watch, mesmerized, as wind whips around him, swirling at his fingertips. The air grows thick, heavy with glowing energy. With a flick of his wrist, the invisible spear is born, a shimmering projectile of wind that slices through the air towards the distant target. It impacts with a forceful whoosh , striking the center of the red-painted bull’s-eye. The target rattles in place. As the spear dissolves, a bare spot of splintered wood is left behind.

“Now, let’s see what you can do.” Vaylen dusts his hands, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through the air with residual energy. “Take your places.”

Phoebe and I do as he orders. We square off against the targets.

“We’ve got this,” I tell her with a cocky smile. This whole thing is proving easier than anticipated.

Phoebe shakes herself and takes deep breaths. I shrug, lift my arm, and hurl my invisible spear toward the target, except no spear materializes as I wish for it. Instead, I feel like an idiot, hurling absolutely nothing at the air. I glance sideways at Phoebe. She scrunches up her face as if saying, We can fail at this together. I’m with you.

But I’m not failing, I just didn’t prepare well. This time, I take several deep breaths and visualize the spear. I nearly feel its weight in my hand. A smile starting to stretch my lips, I sling my arm with force and throw.

Nothing.

I try again, visualizing with greater focus, imagining the spear sailing through the air and striking the wood with a thunk .

Again, nothing happens.

Pacing, I stare at the ground, then at Zephyros. He opens one eye, looks at me, then closes it again. He’s no help at all.

“You seem to be getting flustered,” Vaylen says, arms crossed over his large chest as he watches me, one dark eyebrow raised. “Return to the cliffside, practice Wind Blast a few times, then come back.”

I do as he says. As I face the distant horizon and the valley below, I feel doubt creeping in. What if I got lucky during the previous exercises? What if I can’t do any of it again?

Don’t be stupid. That’s not what’s happening here , I chide myself.

Closing my eyes, I focus on the power that has always churned in my chest.

See, it’s there. It didn’t go anywhere.

I release Wind Blast. It explodes out of me with the same force as before. A wave of relief washes over me. I perform the maneuver a few more times with no trouble, then return to the targets.

“Any luck?” I ask Phoebe.

She shakes her head.

“We’ve got this.” I try to infuse confidence in my words. It partially works.

Eyes closed, I spend a long moment looking inward, imagining my entire self becoming a powerful spear that obliterates the target. The air crackles with anticipation once more, but this time it’s me, not Vaylen, who’s generating the tension. I focus, trying to mimic his effortless grace. A spear flickers to life in my hand. I feed more power into it, and when it fully forms, I stretch my arm in a strong throw. My pathetic excuse for a weapon travels halfway, wobbles, then fizzles out.

Cursing inwardly, I try again, and again, and again. Sweat beads on my brow, my hands trembling. Every time I form a spear, wind howls around me, as if laughing at me while the target, with its mocking red bull’s-eye, seems to taunt me from afar.

Two hours later, the sun well on its way toward the western horizon, I collapse to the ground, exhausted, arms and legs sprawled out. Phoebe’s face appears above me as she leans in to console me.

“You’ll get it. Don’t give up,” she says.

She mastered Wind Spear and moved on to Wind Dagger over an hour ago. She’s now ready to try the next maneuver.

“That’s enough, Skysinger Wyndward,” Vaylen says in a commanding voice.

I turn my head to look at him, squinting.

“You’ve been stubborn enough,” he adds, “and I allowed it. But it’s counterproductive, so it’s time for you to move to other maneuvers for now. You can return to this one later.”

“Yes, Sir,” I jump back to my feet and get to work, even though I despise admitting failure, even if only temporarily.

At the end of the day, I’m nearly caught up with Phoebe, except Wind Spear and obviously Wind Dagger elude me. They’re in essence the same maneuver, the latter requiring more finesse than the former. I had no trouble with any of the other exercises. It makes no sense why there seems to be a block in my mind when I try to create spears and daggers.

“All my bones ache,” Phoebe says as we head toward the lifts when Vaylen dismisses us. The other Skyriders appear just as battered, but there’s a glint of satisfaction in everyone’s eyes.

The next few days are just as brutal. We practice all the maneuvers we only theoretically learned at the Academy. Everyone masters what they’re supposed to, except for me.

Wind Spear and Wind Dagger still elude me.