Wingborn (28 page)

“
I’ll
learn to cope,” the lad in question chirped. “He’
ll only
laugh when I fall off anyway.
”

“
Who’
s fallen off?
”
Mherrin asked, ruffling his cousin
’
s hair and smiling at the
others.

“
No one.
But they haven’
t even brought the birds out yet.
”
Mouse
’
s gloomy prediction cast a cloud over the group and
they all fell quiet. Shaking his head, Lieutenant Stirla wandered
off.

“
What
a cheerful bunch.
”
Mherrin laughed.
“
If my cousin can fly, anyone can.
”
He hopped back when Mhysra mock-punched
him, grinning as he crashed into Corin.
“
Oh, sorry.
”

For once the flirtatious girl was silent and
simply stared, eyes wide and dreamy.

“Leave her
alone,” Mhysra scolded, dragging her cousin away. “She has enough
crushes already, without adding you.”

“Always room
for one more,” Corin protested.

He shot her a soulful glance and placed a
hand over his heart.
“
I
have no wish to be one of many, fairest of maidens. There is room
in my heart for only one.
”

“And you call
Rift Riders melodramatic. Move, Mherrin, or I’ll fetch Aunt
Mhylla.”

Mherrin jumped, but when he realised his
mother was across the field he relaxed.
“
Mam
’
s too busy to bother with me today. That reminds
me, she wants you and Cue.
”

Mhysra raised her eyebrows.
“
And you?
”

He smiled smugly and held out his hands.
“
No mount, cuz, so I
must be content with watching the rest of you have all the fun.
Alas.
”

“Poor baby,”
she drawled, while Corin and Mouse giggled. “Derry, please stop him
from doing anything stupid.”

“Do I look
like a miracle worker? You need a god for that task.”

Scowling at his unhelpfulness, she looked
elsewhere.
“
Dhori, would
you watch him, please?
”

“
I
a
m not a dog,
”
Mherrin protested.

“No,” Derrain
agreed. “A dog can be trained.”

“
It
would be an honour,” Dhori said calmly, while the pair tussled.
“Though it’
s been a while since my last miracle. My skills
are a little rusty.
”

“Practise
makes perfect,” Mhysra said, and hurried away before she had to
watch her cousin do anything embarrassing. Well, anything else.

“CAN I LOOK YET?” L
yrai asked, hiding his face against Hurricane’s
neck
.

His fellow lieutenant and the two miryhls
chuckled.
“
I never
thought I
’
d say
this,
”
Stirla murmured,
“
but I don
’
t begrudge your role as flight
instructor anymore.
”

Lyrai lifted his head as Mouse misjudged his
mounting manoeuvre and tumbled straight off the far side.
Thankfully his miryhl was unruffled by his antics or the
crowd
’
s laughter.

Lyrai groaned.
“
Kill me now.
”

“Look lively,
the boy is on and stable… ish.”

Sighing, Lyrai watched Captain Myran and
Mhylla Wrentherin adjust Mouse
’
s seat, murmuring advice – and a few prayers –
before stepping back.
“
Ai Gods.
”

Mouse stiffened as the small miryhl cast a
look over his shoulder, opened his wings and jumped from the low
platform. There was a gasp when Mouse wobbled, but his miryhl
shifted to balance him. The watchers sighed with relief as the dark
eagle glided across the field, executed a careful turn, rose ten
feet in the air and coasted in to land. With his student still
onboard.

“
A
bloody miracle,” Stirla muttered, joining the applause as Mouse
tumbled down and threw his arms around his miryhl’s neck. “Damn, I
owe Derry a silver talon. I didn’
t think he
’
d last the field.
”

Lyrai shook his head as others in the crowd
exchanged money. He should probably scold his friend for not
setting a better example, but he couldn
’
t be bothered. Instead he studied the little eagle
standing patiently still while Mouse rushed around him.

“
That’
s a good miryhl.
”

“
A
saint,” Stirla agreed, scowling at a jubilant Derrain.
“What’
s he so about cheerful, isn
’
t he up next?
”

“But richer by
a talon,” Lyrai pointed out. “Plenty for a lad to be happy about.”
He grinned at Stirla’s growl as they waited for the next miryhl to
reach the platform.

The three days of the Choice were the
biggest in a Rider student
’
s life. However, for the rest of the world,
watching a group of youngsters fumble with their reins, fall off or
barely hang on as their miryhls took an easy lap of the field was
tedious. The only interest came from amusing falls or if a miryhl
decided to make a bid for freedom. That was why Hurricane was
there, ready to take off in an instant. If Lyrai failed to act,
Stirla, Honra and Mhysra were also standing by. Some might call it
overkill, but with students and young miryhls taking their first
flights together there was no knowing what might happen.

As Derrain walked up to the platform, he
said something softly that made both Myran
and Mhylla smile
.

“
More
miracles.” Stirla raised his eyebrows. “This next year will
certainly be interesting.
”

Lyrai agreed, watching Derrain and his new
miryhl perform their flight. Nothing showy, just a trip back and
forth without any mishaps. If there was a wobble in
Derrain
’
s legs when he
dismounted, most were too busy applauding to notice. Lyrai was
impressed and relieved. He could easily work with Derrain – a solid
base, without overconfidence. He
’
d be happy with more such students, but he
wasn
’
t optimistic.

“
Halfway,” Stirla pointed out, while Dhori flew like a
natural. He didn’
t perform any tricks, but it was obvious
that he could have completed plenty with ease.
“
He
’
s done that before.
”

“Mm,” Lyrai
agreed thoughtfully. “A lad of many talents.” It was already clear
who was going to be this year’s star, even before they reached
Aquila.

“Here comes
Corin. This should be good.”

“Unkind,”
Lyrai said, smiling as the diminutive girl accepted a boost into
the saddle and shivered with fright.

“
I
don’
t like heights,
”
she yelped, sending a ripple of amusement through
the crowd.

“You live on a
mountain, student,” Captain Myran pointed out.

“
A
mountain is solid.” The miryhl shifted and she grabbed the front of
her saddle with a squeak. “It’
s not very stable up here, is
it?
”

“
Come
on, Corin! I thought you weren’
t afraid of
anything,
”
someone
shouted. It sounded like former-student Harlan, if Lyrai
wasn
’
t mistaken.

“Anything,
no,” she grumbled. “I’m afraid of specific things. Like falling and
death.”

“
You’
ll be fine,
”
Mhylla told her brusquely, prising her hands free
and wrapping them around the reins.
“
Since you survived the selection school, you can
manage one flight no higher off the ground than your own
head.
”

Corin pulled a face and glanced at Mhysra.
“
You know when I said
you were the luckiest person I knew?
”
she called.
“
I take it back.
”

“Wisp,” Mhylla
said to the miryhl. “Take her away before I damage her.”

The miryhl chuckled and leapt.
Corin
’
s scream swiftly
turned to an excited whoop as her miryhl displayed an impressive
turn of speed.

“
That’
s enough, Corin,
”
Mhylla shouted, as girl and miryhl took a third
turn around the field.

“I love
flying!”

“
A
useful trait, student,” Captain Myran called, “which you will have
plenty of time to practise. But
not
now.”

For a moment it looked like the pair would
refuse. Lyrai and the other Riders straightened, preparing to fetch
her down.

“
Flying
is a privilege, student, which can be revoked at any moment. With
or without cause.” Captain Myran’
s tone dropped, which
anyone familiar with him knew meant no good.

It also worked on those he had only just met
because, with a sigh, miryhl and student returned to the ground.
The watchers settled back with disappointment.

“I thought
that was going to be interesting for a moment,” Stirla
grumbled.

“Like you
said, halfway through,” Lyrai reminded him.

“And to think
I signed up for this. Why did I want to become a captain
again?”

“Bigger pay,
shiny stripes, social prestige?” Lyrai asked.

Stirla wrinkled his nose.
“
Maybe.
”

“And girls.
Girls are impressed by titles like captain.”

“
That’
ll be it.
”
Stirla turned to watch a Storm Peaks student take
his turn.
“Nannying. All that
training and it’s
come to this.
”
They winced as the miryhl turned a sharp corner,
but his rider didn
’
t.
“
Well, at least the
lad
’
s well
padded,
”
Stirla
murmured, taking Atyrn to check that the boy was all right.

“All hail the
glory of the Rift Riders,” Lyrai sighed, and resigned himself to
the tedium.

HAVING SNUCK OUT
before dawn, safe in the knowledge that her family was
still sleeping, Mhysra crept back in as the midnight bells tolled.
Though she tried justifying her actions by remembering how excited
her friends had been after their test flights and how it was only
natural to celebrate with them, she couldn’t deny the truth. She
was a coward.

There had been
too many people around for her parents to corner her the night
before and by the time everyone had left it was too early for
confrontations. It had seemed like the easiest option to escape for
the day rather than face her parents. Now Mhysra’s head pounded
from lack of sleep, she could barely keep her eyes open and her
feet dragged with dread. She couldn’t avoid them forever, but a
little longer was all she asked. The students were due to leave in
three days. If she kept her head down and didn’t cause any trouble
she might just make it. Especially while her aunt was staying
here.

“Coward,” she
cursed herself as she slipped in through the servant’s entrance.
“Dirty, rotten coward.” Still, if that was what it took to get to
Aquila, cowardly she would be.

The hall was
dark as she tiptoed from the kitchen. A single lantern glowed by
the front door, where the night footman waited in case of
messengers. Not wishing to disturb him, Mhysra scurried up the
backstairs to her room. Holding her breath, she turned the handle
and winced as the catch clunked. When the silence held, though, she
sighed with relief and stepped inside.

“Good evening,
Mhysra.”

The door
thumped closed as she stumbled back against it, heart jumping.
Sitting at the desk, flicking through some accounts by candlelight,
Lady Kilpapan was waiting for her.

“I wondered if
you’d return. However, since your nakhound and clothes are all
still here, I assumed you would.” Lady Kilpapan shut the ledger
with a snap and looked up. “We need to talk.”

Since talking
was the last thing Mhysra wanted to do, she remained by the door,
fingers flexing on the handle, debating whether it was too late to
run. She was tired. All she wanted to do was sleep. Couldn’t this
wait until morning?

“Sit,” the
countess commanded, pointing to the chair she’d positioned beside
the desk. It wasn’t the only thing that had been rearranged while
Mhysra was out. Slinking guiltily across the room, she was dismayed
to see her extra flying gear and school notes displayed on the bed.
Her mother had been busy.

“I should have
anticipated this,” Lady Kilpapan said, rapping her fingernails on
the desk, lips tight with annoyance. “We made a mistake, your
father and I. We knew you were wilful, but so was Milluqua when she
first arrived. When you settled down, we assumed you were following
her pattern. Mhylla assured me that you were a good girl, polite
and obedient.” She looked up and caught Mhysra’s eye. “Apparently
not.”

Mhysra bit her
tongue. She was perfectly polite and obedient as long as she was
being asked to do something meaningful. Something worthwhile.
Something other than prancing around ballrooms and simpering in
parlours, pretending to be an empty-headed fool.

“Perhaps it
was a mistake to let Mhylla raise you. We expected a well behaved,
biddable child, and you expected freedom with no repercussions. No
doubt we are as disappointed as each other.” The countess’ lips
tightened again and she studied the flickering candles. “Despite
these unfortunate circumstances I believe we understand one another
at last. You have done as you wished and continued your masquerade
even after I explained everything. I underestimated your
determination, but I believe we can work past this.”