Page 28 of Kingdom of Shadows and Wings

Theo offers a low whistle and Olive grins. Several others yell encouraging comments.

“Damn, Axton. Not bad.”

“Wow, the newbie’s got actual skills.”

Palpable relief sweeps through me.

“Everyone, listen up.” As the other instructor leaves, Dawson’s almost unseeing gaze zips from fledgling to fledgling. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Practice while I’m gone.” She swings her finger from one student to the other, her face serious. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

A lanky man with a shaved head and piercing gray eyes approaches me and extends his hand. “Mark Levine.”

I shake his hand, annoyed my first reaction to someone other than my unit and Theo being nice to me is suspicion. A few bad experiences shouldn’t transform me into a pessimist. “Lark. Nice to meet you.”

He plucks an arrow from the barrel. “Okay, I’m just going to get right to the point. You’re obviously a badass with a bow, and I haven’t gotten the hang of it yet. Care to give me a few pointers?”

His hopeful, genuine smile quiets my nerves. “Oh, um, thank you. Sure, I can do that.”

His smile widens. “Really? You don’t mind?”

“Of course not.” He might not know it, but he’s actually helping me. Some of the animosity toward my presence at Flighthaven is due to the other fledglings’ belief that I bring nothing to the table. That I’ll drag them down. Aiding Mark with his bow will show that I’m a team player and not completely worthless.

“You’re my hero. Thank you.” He responds with an almost comical wink. “Look, I feel like an idiot admitting this, but I don’t want to practice where everyone can see how terrible I am. Let’s make sure we’re far enough away from the others.”

Sympathy tugs at my chest. Having just experienced my own public humiliation over my lack of throwing star skills, I can’t help but relate. “You may not have noticed, but this is literally the one thing I’m good at. So don’t worry. I won’t judge.”

Mark drags a hand across his forehead, miming relief, and leads me across the training area to the far back corner. Along with the distance, the trees scattered throughout the area provide us with a little cover from the other students.

I go through the steps, guiding him on how to aim and where to place his elbow while encouraging him to relax. “When you’re ready, take the?—”

Hands grab me from behind, pinning my arms to my sides. I gag on the musty cloth stuffed into my mouth.

Struggling and kicking, I whip my head to the side and spot Mark standing by like nothing is happening.

He notices my confusion and sneers. “Stupid bitch.” Stepping closer, he gives me a rough pat on the cheek. “Did you really think I needed your help?”

Rage fills me, along with a thick dose of regret for not seeing through his act.

“Aw, the newbie did a good deed. I’m touched.” Helene’s cold voice mocks me. I lash out and try to charge her as she comes into view, but a wall of wind shoves me back. “Hold her tight, Elijah. She’s a little feisty.”

I glare and attempt to speak around the cloth.

They ignore me.

After dragging me to a tree, they shove me against the rough trunk. Mark focuses on the ground, where the tree’s roots begin to writhe. They emerge from the grass like thick brown snakes and wrap around me, starting at my ankles and twining around my body until I’m bound up to my neck.

Earth magic. The bastard’s using earth magic in clear violation of the rule book, but with Dawson gone and me without a way of alerting my flight unit, he’ll probably get away with it.

Flaring my nostrils and sucking in a deep breath through my nose, I try calling upon my own magic. Though I find the well where it resides, the suppressant I take each morning blocks my access. Almost like my power’s covered in a heavy shroud and then locked up tight.

Godsdammit.

“Let’s see how brave you are.” Elijah produces an apple out of nowhere and settles it on top of my head. “I suggest you stay still for this next part. Ready, Mortimer?”

“Just about.”

Helene stands back a good fifty paces. She wields a bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. I struggle anew, thrashing against the roots holding me in place. When Marktsks, the bindings tighten to the point that I’m worried I’ll crack a rib. Muffled, unintelligible noises emerge around the cloth in my mouth.

“What’s the matter, Axton?” Elijah puts his hand over his heart. “Are you scared?”

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