Wingborn (34 page)

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Authors: Becca Lusher

Tags: #flying, #fantasy, #epic fantasy, #ya fantasy, #giant eagles, #regency fantasy, #overworld, #fantasy with birds, #fantasy with girls, #wingborn

BOOK: Wingborn
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“Aye, brat, me
too,” he said carelessly, ruffling her hair and picking up Cumulo’s
tack. “Come on. I’ll show you where to store this so it’ll get
cleaned, then we’ll settle you in.”

Wiping her
face and hoping people would think it was just the rain, she
shouldered her pack and called for Dhori. Then she looked at her
brother again and smiled. “Let’s go.”

 

THE CITADEL LOOKED
just the same as Lyrai followed his captain from the eyries. He
stopped when they crossed the bridge, unable to help himself. It
was tradition for returning Riders to pause by the great window to
look at the view. Straight ahead, the mountain ridges fell back,
leaving nothing but clouds and sky. Even shrouded by a storm, the
scene was breathtaking. Lightning snaked across the darkening day
and the horizon was a distant line of crimson-tinged gold. Thunder
shuddered through the citadel as the sun surrendered to the
night.

Smiling, Lyrai bent over the sill and,
heedless of the rain, stared down the surging Aquatai Falls. This
was the glory of Aquila: a sheet of roaring water tumbling into the
cloudy abyss. Buildings clung to the cliffs on either side as
though they had grown from the rocks. Lightning flashed, reflecting
off the aqueducts that rippled along each street. On the right were
the homes of the tradesmen and women who worked for the citadel and
to the left were the barracks.

Aquila: home of the Rift Riders. Lyrai
adored it.

Turning from the window, he ran a hand over
the smooth stone and followed the others. Unlike the new students,
off to eat before being shown to their rooms, he had an
appointment. Life for students would begin in the morning, but for
the Riders work carried on.

“Pleased to be
home?” Stirla murmured.


I’
ll let you know,

Lyrai replied, saving his breath for the East
Tower. For a man with a limp, Myran moved fast and his lieutenants
struggled to keep up, pausing at the top to catch their breath.
Lightning flickered, followed by snarling thunder that shook the
torches in their brackets. Casting an experienced eye over his
officers, the captain smiled and opened the door.

Two men waited inside.
“Good timing, Myran?” Captain Roumn greeted; a
grizzled older Rider who looked as if the kaz-naghkt had gnawed on
him. H
e eyed Stirla and Lyrai with a smirk.

Think you

re ready to play the teaching game,
lads?

As the lieutenants traded uncertain glances,
the other captain came over.

They

ve
just outraced a storm, Roumn, give them a chance to dry out before
frightening them off.

The shortest man present, Captain Fredkhen was also the
friendliest.

How many
with you?

“Thirty-two,”
Myran said. “Nineteen from Nimbys, eight from Storm Peaks, five
from Sutherall. You came from Etheria?”


For my
sins.” Fredkhen nodded. “Brought twenty-nine. Gods, I thought
we’
d never make it to the Choice. We had over a hundred
applicants at Midwinter, thirty of them girls.

While the captains moved off to discuss
student numbers, Myran dismissed his followers with a wave. They
were happy to be excused and Lyrai led the rush to the
fireplace.

“Ah, Aquila,”
Stirla sighed, ruffling the water from his hair, while Rees and
Honra held their hands towards the flames. “Not here a day and the
olds are already boring me to death.”

Watching the captains, Lyrai smiled grimly.

If Fredkhen

s here you know what that
means?

Stirla straightened up and grimaced.

Willym. I

d forgotten and was happy in my
ignorance. How did the nicest captain in the Riders end up with a
snot like him?

“Patronage,”
Rees grunted, lifting his coattails to warm his backside.


Fredkhen’
s family work for Willym

s father, Jarl Yurrayn,

Honra elaborated.


Figures,” Stirla grumbled. “Does this mean we’re stuck with
that
pyrefly scat for the next three years?

They contemplated that thought in miserable
silence.

Gods,

Lyrai sighed.

And I
thought the students would be the worst of it.

Before they could get too depressed, the
inner door opened and a fresh-faced secretary peeped out.

Dean Marshall will see
you now.


So nice
to be home,” Stirla grumbled, following the captains into the
dean’
s study.

 

“I AM NEVER
sitting in another boat as long as I live, so help me
gods,” Corin vowed, dripping into the dining hall. The stone walls
were shadowed in the lamplight, leaving an impression of immense
space barely softened by grand tapestries and banners. Five tables
marched down the hall’s length, one of which was covered with
baskets of food. Simple fare, but warm and close to the fire. The
students descended like a plague of half-drowned rats.

“As good a
reason as any for joining the Riders,” Derrain agreed, sitting
beside Mhysra and reaching for the pie basket. “Fly in all
right?”

“Better than
you apparently,” Mhysra replied, helping Corin climb over the
bench. Her friend was groaning enough to put an eighty-year-old to
shame. “What happened?”

“Cold.”
Corin’s teeth chattered as she reached for a roll. “Cramped.
Idiots.”


The
rain was freezing,” Haelle explained across the table. “And we were
packed as tight as a rain cloak’
s weave.

Mouse, however, was jubilant.

Our boat almost tipped over! We
nearly went in the river!

“Since that
flows out over the falls, I was not so happy at the prospect as
you,” Derrain said. “Remind me never to sit near him again.”

The students bickered as they devoured
fruit, pies and cold meats, while warming up beside the enormous
fireplace. As they gnawed on the food, many of them studied the
gloomy room. It seemed impossible that they were at Aquila. They
might easily have been back in at the Rider offices for lunch.
Aside from the abundance of stone and atmosphere of grandeur.


Hey-ho,
Derry-o, you made it!” Warm hands gripped Mhysra’
s shoulders
and she leant back against her brother as he greeted her friends,
old and new. His chest rumbled against her head when he laughed at
Derrain

s description of
the boat ride, comparing their arrival to his own four years
ago.


You
never said your brother would be here,” Corin whispered.
“Wrentherin, Kilpapan, Wingborn, and now a Rider-in-training with a
personal guide to Aquila.” She glanced up at Kilai
.

You have the best
looking relations.


You
think every man’s good-looking, and I can’
t say I

ve noticed,

Mhysra said, bumping her head against
Kilai

s chest. When her
brother looked down, she waved at the girl beside her.

Kilai, meet Corin.

Her brother smiled.

Welcome to Aquila, Corin. Another pretty
face to brighten these bleak halls. I hope you like it
here.

Derrain
looked up. “That’
s a point. How many girls got
through?

Kilai squeezed onto the bench between his
sister and Derrain.

Ten
so far, to go with your –

He did a quick count.

Eight. Oww, nine.

He scowled, rubbing where Mhysra had elbowed him
for leaving her out.

The North Point lot haven

t arrived yet.


Nineteen girls,” Corin said thoughtfully. “That’
s
not so bad. I expected less.


We all
did,” Kilai agreed, catching his sister’
s arm before she
could jab him.

Not like
that, hoyden, we

re just
surprised. They

re
preparing a second dormitory. They expected about
fifteen.

Across the table, a Storm Peaks lad snorted.

Rumour says they
expected none.

Kilai

s smile was crooked.

Then they were wrong. I knew at least one would
make it.

He ruffled
Mhysra

s hair and stood
up.

Now it

s up to you girls to prove just
how wrong they were. In the meantime, I

ll show you to your rooms. As soon as the North
Point lot arrive, the captains

ll divide you into you
r
training flurries, then they set you to work. So
get to know the others, explore and make the most of this freedom.
It

s the last
you

ll see for a
while.

With that cheery advice, he headed for the
door, leaving the new students to scurry after him, stuffing fruit
and pies into handkerchiefs and pockets.

Looping his arms around Corin and
Mhysra

s shoulders,
Derrain gave them both an excited squeeze.

So it begins.

 

 

 

 

Eighteen
Aquila

“G
OOD EVENING, GENTLEMEN. P
lease sit down.” Former Flight Commander Marshall
was an unassuming man with silver streaks in his dark hair. Having
been the dean of Aquila for almost ten years, he’d overseen
Lyrai’
s training. Even now, when he smiled, Lyrai fought the
urge to squirm like a schoolboy, still unused to being called into
the man

s office for
anything other than a reprimand.

A well-timed journey.

Thunder snarled as Myran accepted a goblet
of wine.

We had fast
winds, but only chance brought us in safely. The ships are moored
at the caves.

“Safest place
for them, storm or no,” the dean said, waiting for his secretary to
pass the wine around before opening the nearest ledger. “How many
students, Myran?”

“Thirty-two,”
the captain said, nodding at Lyrai to fill in the details.

“Nineteen from
Nimbys, sir, eight from Storm Peaks, five from Sutherall. Nine
girls, twenty-three boys.”

The dean inked in the numbers.

Thirty-two. A solid number. Made
better for the girls

presence.

He frowned at
his ledger.

Added to
the twenty-nine from Etheria, ten of which were girls, means the
numbers are holding steady.

“Any word from
North Point?” Fredkhen asked.

“Word, yes,”
the dean murmured, twirling his quill. “Thirteen students expected,
including five girls. Hopefully they’ll arrive soon. Weather
permitting. The storms are early.”

“More girls,”
Rees grumbled into his wine. “What use will they be?”


They’ve
already bolstered the numbers,” Myran pointed out mildly. “If
not
for the girls this would be a poor year. Fewer are
willing to risk their children for the glory of Rider
fame.

Dean Marshall set aside his quill and rubbed
his neck.

Original
application numbers were up on recent years.

“How many of
those withdrew after the attacks on Kevian and Cirrica?” Captain
Roumn asked.

Fredkhen grimaced, which was all the answer
they needed.

Two
attacks in the Greater West, regardless of the low mortality rate,
so close together

One
could hardly blame parents for getting jumpy.

“Because life
in the Riders has always been sweetness and light,” Roumn mocked.
“What did they think their children were signing up for, the Cloud
Circus?”

“Thank you,
captain,” Marshall murmured, his soft voice still retaining the
power of a commander. “Until you have children of your own, do not
criticise others about how they choose to care for theirs. It’s one
thing to hear of the glory of the Rift Riders, another to be
confronted with corpses and casualties. Twenty-nine families of the
Greater West have given us a glorious gift, do not scorn those
whose generosity failed at the last.”


We’
ll see,

the captain muttered.

Ten girls, remember? Our intake may yet
decline.

“Have you seen
any of the girls in action yet, captain?” Stirla asked, studying
his nails.


I’
ve been trapped in this benighted place for the
last five years,

Roumn
retorted.

I

ve seen plenty of girls, for all
that they call themselves boys. It
might
be refreshing to see how real girls train.
Can

t see it

ll do much good, but there we have
it. One voice is often lost in a crowd.

“Wait until
you’ve seen them,” Stirla advised. “You might learn something.”

Roumn gave a sceptical snort, echoed by
Rees. The two men had always been likeminded; it was why Rees had
been reassigned to Myran

s command a few years back.

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