We race out of the cave and into the morning air, the rising sun hitting us in the face. Throwing up our hands to shield our eyes, we run forward into the knee-high grass that spans the distance from the cliffs to the
trees.
โWhere did you get those knives?โ Rhiannon asks when weโre halfway to the line of oaks.
โXaden.โ It doesnโt even occur to me to lie. โHe had them made for me
โโ
โWell, this is an unexpected delight,โ Professor Grady says from behind
us.
We spin, and I draw two daggers. Iโd rather visit Malek than go back into
that chamber. But I willโฆfor the final exam.ย โThink about that later,โย Tairn commands.ย โIโm fine, thanks for asking.โ
โOf course you are. I chose well.โ
Professor Grady grins and sets down his mug as he rises from the chair that sits a few feet away from the door against the rocky cliffside.
Rhiannon strides forward, lifting her sword in attack position with her right arm and extending her left hand. โWeโll take that patch now.โ
โฆ
Dain doesnโt look me in the eye at any point over the next few days, and I donโt make the effort to talk to him. What could I even say?ย Thank you for doing the only decent thing and not violating my privacy?
โIโm just saying that spending every weekend flying for Samara or holed up in your room with Riorson isnโt good for you,โ Ridoc says as we climb the staircase of the academic wing with the crowd headed for Battle Brief.
โAs opposed toโฆโ I glance over at him and wince. His cheek is still black and blue.
Thanks to Nolon, thereโs not a mark on me. Itโs anything but fair.
We lost a first-year, Trysten, to Gauntlet practice while we were in interrogation and missed the formation where they called his name on the death roll, too. That isnโt fair, either.
โBeing a normal second-year and spending some time blowing off a little steam every now and then,โ Sawyer answers for Ridoc from my other side. Ever since the interrogation, my squadmates have barely let me out of their sight.
โIโm fine,โ I tell them both. โThis is just what happens when mated dragons bond to riders in different years.โ Twenty-four hours from now, Iโll be in the saddle on my way to Xaden.
โItโs why they usuallyย donโtย do it,โ Ridoc mutters.
โFirst Squad lost someone,โ Rhiannon says, coming up behind us as we reach the second floor. โThey just came out of interrogation about an hour ago. Sorrelโs name will be on the death roll tomorrow.โ
My heart drops. The interrogation assessment has now taken two second-years.
โThe girl with the kick-ass bow skills?โ Sawyer gapes at Rhiannon as she scoots between us.
โYeah,โ she says quietly.
A scribe cadet walks by, but I canโt see who it is with the hood up. Thatโs odd. Usually theyโre only in the quadrant for death roll or whenever Markham needs extra people.
โDid she break?โ Ridoc asks. โOr did they breakย her?โ
โI donโtโโ Rhiannonโs words stop short, and so do we when two First Wing squads move off the wall and into our path. โCan we help you?โ
Theyโre all second-years. I drop my hands to my sides, close to my daggers. โYou guys escaped, right?โ Caroline Ashton asks, lowering her voice. โThatโs what people are saying about the new patch.โ She taps beside her own shoulder, where we now wear a circular, silver patch with a black key.
โItโs a classified patch,โ Sawyer says.
โWe just want to know how you did it,โ Caroline whispers as the crowd pushes by us on the side to get to the briefing room. โRumor is, it took them an entire day to reset the interrogation room after you guys.โ
The fact that she calls it a room and notย roomsย lets me know no one is really talking.
โAll we can tell you is the same advice youโve already been given. Donโt break,โ Rhiannon tells them.
โStick together,โ I add, holding Carolineโs gaze even when she narrows it on me.
โShouldnโt you all be in Battle Brief?โ Bodhi asks, his voice booming as he comes up behind us. One look sends the other squads scurrying for the door.
โTairn told me he felt Sgaeyl getย veryย angry last night,โ I say over my shoulder to Bodhi as we continue walking. โAnything I should know about?โ
โNot that Iโm aware of.โ We separate as we walk through the wide double doors into the briefing room.
My squadmates and I start down the steps, but something is off. The usual hum of the briefing room is approaching a roar of murmurs and outright exclamations as cadets pick up what look to be leaflets lying on every seat.
โWhatโs happening?โ Ridoc asks.
โNot sure,โ I answer as we bypass the first cadets in our row and find our way to our seats.
I pick up the half sheet of parchment on my chair and flip it over as my squadmates do the same.
My knees weaken as I read the headline.
ZOLYA FALLS TO DRAGON FIRE
THE THIRD LARGEST CITY IN THE BRAEVICK PROVINCE HAS FALLEN TO THE BLUE FIRE DRAGONS AND THEIR RIDERS. THOUGH THE CITY AND ITS DRIFTS FOUGHT VALIANTLY, THE TWO-DAY BATTLE ENDED IN POROMISH DEFEAT. ALL WHO DID NOT EVACUATE HAVE PERISHED. AN ESTIMATED TEN THOUSAND LIVES HAVE BEEN LOST, INCLUDING GENERAL FENELLA, THE COMMANDER OF BRAEVICKโS GRYPHON FLEET. ALL TRADE ROUTES TO THE CITY HAVE BEEN BARRICADED TO PREVENT FURTHER LOSS OF LIFE.
Two days ago.
My hand trembles, and I twist around toward the back of the room, my gaze jumping from one third-year to the next until I find Bodhi and Imogen.
โOh gods,โ Rhiannon whispers beside me.
Bodhi and Imogen exchange a panicked look, and then our gazes collide. What the hell are we supposed to do? Bodhiโs tense shake of his head tells me he doesnโt know, either.
Drawing the least amount of attention to myself seems prudent, so I turn back to face the map and slide into my seat.
โIs this real?โ Sawyer asks, turning over the parchment to examine it.
โLooksโฆreal?โ Ridoc scratches the back of his neck as he sits. โIs this some kind of test to see if we can discern official proclamation leaflets from propaganda?โ
โI donโt think so,โ Rhiannon says slowly, staring at me.
But my eyes are locked on the recessed floor and Professor Devera, who has just been handed a leaflet.
Please be who I think you are.
Her eyes widen, but I only see them for a second before she turns to face the map, her head tilted back. Iโd bet my life that sheโs staring right where I am now, at the little circle at the foot of the Esben Mountains along the Stonewater River that marks where Zolya standsโstood. Itโs maybe a four-hour flight from our border.
โViolet?โ Rhiannonโs voice rises, like itโs not the first time sheโs called my name.
โWhat is all the commotion this morning?โ Markham shouts over the briefing room as he descends the steps. Someone hands him a leaflet.
โWhat do you think?โ Rhiannon asks.
I glance from my squadmateโs furrowed brows to the leaflet and force the roaring in my ears to quiet as I make a quick study of the parchment. โParchment looks like ours, but Iโve never personally seen any made outside the border. Typeset is standard to every printing press Iโve ever seen. Thereโs no seal, Navarrian or Poromish.โ I run my thumb over the larger, scrolling block letters of the headline, smudging the ink. โItโs less than twenty-four hours old. The ink hasnโt cured.โ
โBut is itย real?โ Sawyer repeats his earlier question.
โThe chances of someone hauling in all these leaflets from the border are next to nothing,โ I tell him. โSo if youโre asking if it was printed in Poromielโโ
My head jerks up, and I see Markhamโs face blotch red as he says something to Caroline Ashton on the aisle. She jumps from her seat and runs up the stairs, disappearing through the door.
โIt was printed here,โ I whisper, fear twisting my stomach into knots.
Whoever did it is as good as dead if they left any trace.
โSo itโs not real.โ Sawyer lifts his eyebrows, the freckles on his forehead disappearing into the grooves of his skin.
โJust because itโs printed here for public dissemination doesnโt mean whatโs on it isnโt real,โ I explain, โbut it also doesnโt mean that it is.โ
โWe wouldnโt do this,โ Sawyer argues. โThereโs no way we send a riot to annihilate a city of civilians.โ
โAttention!โ Markham shouts, his footsteps thudding as he strides down the steps.
The noise doesnโt dissipate.
โIf someone was trying to get news out, theyโd send one leaflet like this to the printing press to be approved by scribes,โ I tell my squadmates quickly, knowing our time is short. โOnce approved, it would take hours to set the blocks to print unless multiple scribes worked on it. But this isnโt official. Thereโs no seal. So either itโs fake and printed for just this classโ which isย a lotย of workโor itโs realโฆand not approved.โ Itโs exactly what I would say if I didnโt know the truth, and to be honest, Iโm not certain this leafletย isย the truth.
โRiders!โ Devera yells, turning to face us. โQuiet!โ
The room falls silent.
Markhamโs at the front of the classroom now, his features schooled in a mask of serenity as he stands beside Professor Devera. If I didnโt know him better, Iโd say he was almost enjoying the chaos, but I do, and heโs rubbing his forefinger against his thumb.
No matter what he says next, this wasnโt his plan.
โApparentlyโโhe gestures to us, his palm facing upwardโโwe are not ready for todayโs exercise. We were going to follow up on our discussion about propaganda, but I can see now that I overestimated your ability to judge a simple printing like this without hysteria.โ The insult is delivered in unemotional monotone.
Suddenly, I feel fifteen again, my self-worth determined by this manโs opinion of my intellect and control.
โDamn.โ Ridoc sags in his seat. โThatโsโฆharsh.โ
โThatโs Markham,โ I say quietly. โYou think only riders can be vicious?
Words are just as capable of eviscerating someone as a blade, and heโs a master.โ
โOn the off chance that we actually did this and someone leaked the information?โ Rhiannon asks, glancing my way. โYou know him better than
we do. Whatโs his next move?โ
โFirst, I donโt think weโd target civilians across the border.โ Thatโs the truth. We just wonโt do anything to help them, either. โBut if he didnโt print the leaflets, heโll discredit, deflect, then distract.โ
โAs it is, we have two much more pressing matters to discuss,โ Markham lectures, his tone still cool. โSo, you will now pass all pieces of propaganda to the left, where they will be collected to discuss on a day when youโre capable of being rational.โ
A ripple passes over the room as everyone hurries to do as he asks. Iโm reluctant to let mine go, but itโs not worth drawing attention.
Professor Devera folds hers with quick, precise movements and pockets
it.
โHonestly.โ Markham shakes his head. โYou should have been able to
spot those leaflets as propaganda within seconds.โ
Discredit. I have to admit, heโs good. The stacks reach the ends of the rows, and then the cadets hand them forward, the pile growing and growing as it descends toward the floor.
โWhen, in the history of Navarre, have we ever flown a riot comprised only of blue dragons?โ He looks us over like weโre children. Like weโve been found wanting.
Clever.ย Heโs so fucking clever. With the leaflets collected, every cadet in the room will question the exact wording. Every cadet except the riders who know the meaning of that entire paragraph came down to the placement of the wordย fire.
โBut as I said.โ Markham claps his hands together and sighs. โWeโll return to this lesson when weโre ready. Right now, our first order of business is here, and celebration is in order.โ
Deflection complete. Cue distraction.
โI wasnโt sure this day would come, which is why I hope that youโll forgive us for keeping the months of Colonel Nolonโs hard work a secret. We didnโt want to disappoint you if he could not pull off what will arguably be the greatest achievement of any mender in our history.โ
Didnโt want to disappoint us? I barely manage to keep from rolling my eyes.
Markham raises his hand toward the doorway and smiles. โHe was crushed under the weight of a mountain a few months ago, but Nolon has mended bone after bone to return him to your quadrant.โ
Crushed under the weight of a mountain? It canโt be. My stomach hollows, and the noise of the room muffles under the sound of my own blood rushing through my ears to the cadence of a drum.
โNo fucking way,โ Ridoc says, breaking through my panic.
โTairn?โย I canโt bring myself to look.
โChecking now.โย The clipped, tense tone reminds me of Resson.
โJoin me in welcoming back your fellow rider, Jack Barlowe!โ Markham claps. The entire briefing room joins in, the loudest cheers coming from First Wing as two figures walk down the stairs.
Breathe. In. Out.ย I force air through my lungs as Rhiannon grasps my hand and holds tight.
โItโs him,โ Rhiannon says. โItโs reallyย him.โ
โYou brought down an entire cliff on his unhinged ass.โ Sawyer claps slowly, but itโs only for show. โHow the fuck was there anything left to mend?โ
Dragging my gaze left, I finally work up the courage to look.
Same bulky frame. Same blond hair. Same profile. Same hands that nearly killed me during a challenge last yearโฆbefore I killed him during War Games the first time my signet flared.
He turns a few rows down, walking past other second-years as Caroline Ashton escorts him back to his squad. It all makes sense now. The secrecy. Her visiting the infirmary. Nolonโs exhaustion.
Jack pivots as he reaches an empty seat, turning slowly and nodding as the applause carries on. The look on his face is almost humble, like a man whoโs received a second chance he definitely doesnโt deserve, and then he pivots, looking up the rows to find me.
Glacial blue eyes meet mine. Any doubt I had dies a swift death. Itโs him. My pounding heart jumps into my throat.
โMaybe he learned his lesson?โ Rhiannonโs voice pitches high with empty hope.
โNo,โ Ridoc says, letting his hands fall to his lap. โHeโs definitely going to try to kill you. Again.โ