Wingborn (50 page)

“Too late,”
her rescuer panted, rolling onto his back. “You all right?”

Sitting up, Mhysra flexed her ankle and
winced. “Just about,” she said, and smiled. “Thanks for the help,
Derry. Appreciate it.”

Derrain fra Canlen, her broad-shouldered,
good-natured, best friend grinned. “You were so close. Seemed a
shame to let you lose.”

“
Don’
t get too comfy,” a Rider warned, offering them
a drink. “Fun
’
s not over
yet.”

Groaning, they accepted the water and
crawled over to join Jaymes. He smiled weakly in welcome. “Did you
two work together?”

Emptying the remains of his canteen over his
head, Derrain shook himself like a dog. “No chance. I lost sight of
her around midmorning. She moved too fast for me. I was with Mouse
and Haelle. Haelle tripped an arrow trap around noon, while Mouse
ran smack into a second-year just after. His leg was starting to
play up, so he wouldn
’
t
have stuck it much longer anyway. I
’
ve been running since.” He looked at Mhysra and
raised his eyebrows. “What happened to Corin and Greig?”

She sipped from her canteen, shaking her
head. “Corin got hit by an arrow, tried to keep going and ended up
shouting at Lieutenant Stirla. Greig was so busy joining in that he
missed a net dropping on him. I only escaped because I fell down a
gully.” She pushed up her right sleeve and showed them the graze
running the length of her forearm.

They hissed in sympathy and one of the
Riders went to find something to clean it with.

“How about you?” she asked Jaymes.

“
I was
with Silveo,” he said, to no one’
s surprise. The two North
Point lads were born in the same village and had been inseparable
ever since, even if Silveo was intensely studious while Jaymes was
more active. The only time they didn
’
t pair up was when the instructors and teachers
separated them. “He grew bored around midmorning and started
cataloguing the different species of fern. Last I saw of him he was
smearing his shirt with red dye and talking to Captain Fredkhen
about gorse.”

They chuckled tiredly, while Rider Theryn
arrived to patch up the worst of their scrapes and bruises.

“Has Dhori
been through yet?” Mhysra asked him as he washed her graze.

Theryn grinned. “First in and skipped off
before the third-years even left the eyries.”

“
I
don’
t know why he even bothers pretending to be one of us,”
Derrain grumbled. “I could have sworn he
’
d done all this before.”

“
And
then some,” the Rider agreed. “If he wasn’
t so young,
I
’
d think him a
captain.”

The students thought about it, then Jaymes
shrugged. “At least he
’
s
on our side.”

“
True,”
Theryn chuckled, with a last swipe over Mhysra’
s arm. “All
done. You
can
go.”

Though it was tempting to remain beside the
lake, Mhysra
’
s day was
only half done. “Come on,” she said to the boys, batting away a
cloud of midges. “Time to make the third-years work.”

The amused Riders wished them luck and
returned to their card game.

Mhysra located Cumulo’s tack and limped to
her big miryhl
’
s side.
“
Ready to
play?
”

The giant eagle lowered his head for his
bridle and rubbed his beak against her.
“
It
’
s about time you shared the fun. Just stay on and
I
’
ll keep us out of
trouble.
”

Setting the saddle on his back and buckling
the chest straps, Mhysra snorted.
“
That
’
s
likely.
”

“
There’
s a first time for everything,
”
he sniffed virtuously, shuffling
his wings as she buckled his girths.
“
You might want to strap yourself in too.
”

Trying not to put too much weight on her
sore ankle, Mhysra stepped onto his lowered wing, and let him boost
her into the saddle. Once in place, she settled her bad foot into
the stirrup and took her Wingborn
’
s advice. For the first time in longer than she
cared to remember, she pulled the leather straps out from under the
saddle, passed them over the tops of her legs and buckled them
either side of the pommel. In terms of safety they weren
’
t foolproof, but they did offer an
extra measure of security. The clips that also attached to her
flight-belt she left loose; she wasn
’
t quite that feeble yet.

When they were fixed, she gathered
Cumulo
’
s reins.
“
I almost dread hearing
the answer, but what have you got in mind?
”

Chuckling, the miryhl crouched.
“
To win, of course.
”
He sprang into the air, heavy
wing beats causing the nearest miryhls to duck. Once he had enough
height, Cumulo circled upwards, keeping an eye out for any
third-years while waiting for Jaymes and Derrain to join them.

It wasn
’
t long before the three miryhls were gliding
watchfully over the lake. The task ahead was simple: get back to
the citadel. The only problem was that around fifty third-years
were waiting to get in their way. It didn
’
t make Mhysra feel any better to know that
she and her friends were just an appetiser before the second-years
tried their own luck later in the day. Few enough first-years made
it to this point, and those that did rarely put up a fight. She
smiled, knowing Cumulo had other ideas in mind.

Rising from a crag halfway down the lake,
seven miryhls circled. More launched along the route and Mhysra had
no doubt others were waiting to ambush them. The challenge had
begun.

Mhysra leant against her Wingborn
’
s back.
“
Ready, Cue?
”

A chuckle vibrated up through his spine as
he circled one last time.
“
Let
’
s
show them how real Riders fly.
”
Pulling in his wings, he dived towards the
lake.

A high scream echoed through the valley,
answered by another and another, as three groups of miryhls stooped
to attack. Cumulo kept his head down, aiming for the glistening
water below. Hunched on his back, Mhysra looked over her shoulder,
murmuring their opponents
’
positions to her partner.

“
This is
just a game, Cue,” she warned. “We’
re not supposed to hurt
them.
”

“Nor they us,”
he replied, and tilted his wings so that they levelled out just
above the water.

The third-years howled as they swept down
the wind, arrows and bag-bombs at the ready.

“Steady,”
Cumulo murmured. “Steady.”

Mhysra shifted on his back, resettling her
weight and trying to ignore the throbbing in her ankle. She watched
the nearest miryhls fan into an attack formation, the leader
drawing back his bow. Her hands clenched in Cumulo
’
s neck feathers, wondering what he
had planned. Two more students sighted them with their arrows and
drew back their arms.

Cumulo arched his back and, with a downward
thump of his wings, drove straight up into the formation,
scattering miryhls everywhere. Arrows twanged harmlessly wide,
startled students yelped and by the time they had recovered Cumulo
was gone.

Other groups converged as Cumulo soared
above the lake, powering into the wind. Mhysra looked behind and
counted six miryhls approaching on the left, four on the right. She
called their positions to her Wingborn and he tipped his head from
side to side, assessing the competition. Two more groups joined in
front, providing a united front of nine more miryhls.

Hunched on Cumulo
’
s back, Mhysra tried to make herself
smaller, while her Wingborn laughed.
“A challenge!” he screamed, lifting high as a flurry of
arrows shot at them. “Hold on!”

Left with no other choice, Mhysra clung as
Cumulo raced above the approaching flock and, as they turned to
follow, folded his right wing, tucked in his left and dropped.
Rolling twice, he avoided the missiles lobbed in their direction,
flung open his wings and flew straight at the nearest miryhl.

Mhysra clenched her teeth and shut her eyes
as Cumulo rolled again, breaking the defensive line and scattering
his opponents. Her Wingborn was enjoying himself hugely, shrieking
and swooping on the other miryhls to make them flee. She
couldn
’
t join in,
though, as every sharp turn, roll and unexpected move sent a jolt
through her twisted ankle and made her feel sick.

Despite that, the roar of the wind in her
ears, the chill of the air racing over them and the sheer
exuberance of her miryhl did raise her spirits. Cumulo was so
magnificent – how could she not be impressed?

Though younger than those he was facing,
Cumulo was big, cocky and brash. Being Wingborn meant he matured
faster than other miryhls, and most often kept company with birds
of the officer class. It was unfair to pit him against student
eagles, even when they outnumbered him. Flock politics meant that
they had to give way, something of which Cumulo took full
advantage.

Whenever one saw him coming, they were only
too eager to move, regardless of their Rider
’
s orders. It was fine to chase him, but
quite a different matter when he flew in their faces. Mhysra
laughed at the dismay on the third-years
’
faces as their miryhls dodged and almost
collided in their haste to keep out of Cumulo
’
s way.

Such was the chaos that Derrain and Jaymes
slipped easily by unnoticed. When they were safe Cumulo swept out
of the commotion, leaving their opponents squawking like flustered
hens. Giving up on them, with jeers and catcalls, the third-year
flocks returned to their perches to await easier prey.

Laughing, Cumulo swiftly caught up with the
other first-years, and the three young miryhls rose above the lake,
riding the draft through the narrow valley opening and on towards
the citadel below.

Lifting her face to the sky, Mhysra felt her
heart race in time with Cumulo
’
s, and knew there was no place on the Overworld
more perfect than this.

“MAKE WAY FOR A
quila’s most esteemed and honoured flight
instructor.”
Lieutenant Willym was at his mocking best when
Lyrai entered the officers
’
mess for dinner that evening.

“Someone
skipped their envy drops this morning,” Stirla said airily,
shifting along the bench to make room for Lyrai. “Not to mention
feels sore because none of his precious favourites made it home
today.”

Grinning, Lyrai shook his head and greeted
Captain Myran
’
s senior
lieutenants, recently returned from Nimbys and staying in the town
barracks.
“
What brings
you up here?
”

Imaino rolled his eyes in Willym
’
s direction.
“
Can
’
t say it
’
s the company.
”

“Likewise,
” Willym sneered.

“Stubble it,
boy,” Fleik grumbled. “You give me indigestion.”

Stirla chuckled as the other
lieutenant
’
s face turned
an unpleasant shade of red.
“
It seems not everyone is afraid of your father.
Poor Willym, having to suffer such insubordinate
ruffians.
”

The dark-eyed lieutenant glowered, but the
arrival of the captains deprived him of any comebacks. Instead he
moved to the far end of the table and turned his back, like the
sulky brat he truly was.

“Well, that
told us,” Fleik said cheerfully, standing up to shake hands with
Captain Hylan. “Good to see you again, sir. I thought you were
patrolling the Wrathlen.”

“
I was,”
Hylan agreed, slapping Imaino on the
back and ruffling
Stirla
’
s hair.
“
News brought me back
early. Don
’
t suppose any
of you know where I can find the dean?
”

“Still in
Nimbys, as far as we know,” Captain Fredkhen said, as the servants
brought in their meal. “We expect him back any day now.”

“
Unless
he gets snared for the Midsummer festivities,” Captain Myran added,
making his lieutenants shudder, while he stopped at the sideboard
to gather a fresh bottle of wine. “
Cayn would be grateful
for the support.
”

“Especially
since Lieutenant Lenfyr wants to wear a dress,” Fleik mumbled
between mouthfuls. “Not sure how he intends to explain that
one.”

“
She
won’
t
have to,
”
Imaino said,
sipping his wine.
“
I
’
ve
seen it. There
are
so
many Kevian crystals on it that the last place anyone
’
ll be looking at is her face.
Even with her dress coat on
top.”

“After all
these years as a male Rider, it must seem strange to suddenly come
out as a woman,” Stirla mused. “Her disguise must have been a damn
good one.”

“Or her
friends good at keeping secrets,” Imaino agreed, with a wink.

“I suppose
that now the proclamation is in place, she won’t be the last.”
Stirla grinned and raised his glass towards the captains. “Here’s
to a brave new Rift Rider Overworld.”