The infantry captain looks at us and barely refrains from rolling her eyes. “This is the shortest course you’ll be conquering together this year, so try to get to know one another. Fourth Wing, you’re attached to fourth squad.” She looks around, and one of the cadets directly ahead raises his hand. “And Second Wing, you’re attached to second squad, just to make it easy.” A cadet raises her hand on the left. “Your objective is to find the location marked on the maps and secure it. Once you do, you’ll be extracted.”
It can’t be that easy.
Professor Grady holds out the maps, and Rhiannon steps forward, taking both and handing one to Tomas.
One of the infantry cadets starts to step forward but stills.
“Two maps,” Professor Grady says. “Two teams but one cohesive unit. You’re not used to working together. You weren’t even warned you would be. But keeping Navarre safe requires teamwork between the segments of our military. There are times in your careers when you’ll need someone you can trust in the air or on the ground, and those bonds are forged here at Basgiath.” He looks between our groups. “We’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”
Tomorrow afternoon?
My stomach founders. Tairn won’t see Sgaeyl unless he honors my request and leaves. And me…I’ll miss the few hours Xaden is here. It will be another week until I can see him. The disappointment hurts more than it should.
“Just find the extraction point and secure it? That’s our mission?” Sawyer asks, eyeing the map like it might bite him. This is not his strongest skill, for certain.
“No problem.” Ridoc puffs out his chest.
“Oh. Right,” Professor Grady replies. “You see, we have to level the playing field a little bit. Infantry has been doing land nav since their first year, so naturally, they might be a little better at it than you.”
Ridoc stiffens.
The infantry cadets smirk.
“And you might notice that none of you eight”—Professor Grady looks us over—“has the ability to fully communicate with your dragons.”
“Which is bullshit,” Ridoc says at full volume.
A woman on the infantry side gawks.
“It is,” Professor Grady agrees. “It’s not something we do lightly, either, and your dragons loathe it just as much as you do. You’ve all been dosed with a particular mixture of herbs that dulls not only your connections but your signet as well. As frustrating as it is, we’re actually pretty proud of the concoction, so let us know if you feel any side effects.”
“Besides you cutting off the most important bond we have?” Rhi argues.
“Precisely,” Professor Grady replies.
I reach for my power, but only a tingle fills my fingers. Gods, I feel… vulnerable, and it really fucking sucks. My mind flies over what the mixture could possibly be as the two professors walk between our groups.
When Grady reaches the end of our section, he turns, moving backward. “Oh, and did I mention that there are two groups of you out here? The other is on the far side of the forest, and while your dragons will be hunting them, their dragons are hunting you. A few unbondeds joined, too.”
The fuck? My stomach hollows.
Almost every infantry cadet looks faint, and one wobbles where he stands.
“Infantry, the riders are going to need to lean on your land nav expertise, but you won’t live without them should you encounter a dragon.” Grady looks the eight of us in the eye as he backs away. “Try and see that most of them make it out of here, will you?” He flashes a grin and turns around, walking into the forest with the infantry professor, leaving us in the middle of the fucking woods without supplies or our dragons.
We stare at the infantry squad.
The infantry squad stares at us.
The healers look comically uncomfortable, and the scribe already has a notebook out, pencil at the ready.
“Well, this should be a good time had by all,” Ridoc mutters.
“Did he insinuate that we could die?” the smaller of the healers asks, his olive skin paling.
“Piss off the dragons and find out,” Sawyer replies.
“You’ll be all right”—I look for his name tag—“Dyre.” I offer him a smile as I pass on my way to the scribe. Soft red hair frames a creamy white face almost overcome with freckles as the short woman blinks up at me with even shorter brown lashes. “Aoife? They drag scribes into RSC?”
“Hi, Violet. I’m currently the first in my year training for the field and not to be an adept,” she says. “You’re the most powerful rider in yours. Dyre and Calvin are the best in their years.” She shrugs. “Naturally they built the strongest team first.”
Ridoc grins. “So you’re saying we’re the team to beat?”
“Something like that.” The scribe fights back a smile.
“Then let’s make sure we don’t get beat,” Rhiannon says before turning her attention to the map. “Tomas, what do you think?”
He hands a map to Brisa and consults on Rhi’s.
Two hours and several arguments with the infantry later, we’re four miles from our starting location with another six to go. Rhiannon and Ridoc examined our map—which marked where we’d been dropped and our extraction point but didn’t label our location—discussed a route with Tomas, made sure we all saw it, and then handed it over to the infantry to agree on a route before we started walking.
“I’m telling you, we’re in the Parchille Forest,” Cadet Asshole—otherwise known as Calvin—argues with Rhiannon a few steps ahead. He’s actually gone about fifteen minutes without reminding us that he’s their ranking officer, so I’m sure we’re due any minute now. “That map doesn’t resemble any I’ve ever seen for Shedrick, which means we could be headed the opposite direction we should be. None of these landmarks match.”
“And I think you’re wrong,” Rhiannon counters, keeping her tone even.
I think we’re in the Hadden Woods,” Aoife says, holding her journal closely. She already has three pages of notes taken. “It’s the only forest close enough to bring us all by horse, since I doubt your dragons flew us in.”
I add, “It’s also the only forest close enough for Tairn to stay behind and see Sgaeyl without causing either of us pain from the separation.”
