As soon as we enter the training room, suspicion rears its ugly head. Kinneck’s grinning, entirely too pleased with himself for today’s scheduled activity to be anything other than a sadistic clusterfuck. Whistling, Kinneck leads us out of the classroom and along a trodden dirt path to the forest. The trees part and tower over us on both sides like silent sentinels, their leaves whispering in the breeze as we arrive at a spot where the ground splits apart and separates to form a wide crater in the earth. A row of the narrowest footbridges I’ve ever had the misfortune of viewing spans the gap. Short wooden planks attached horizontally form the platforms, which can’t be much wider than the length of my foot. No handrails either.

Without prompting, fledglings start lining up behind the bridges.

Kinneck’s high-pitched whistle assaults my ears. “You know the drill. The object is to get across the bridge without falling in.”

“What’s in the pit today?” someone asks.

Kinneck chuckles. “Try not to find out. On my count, and remember to keep going until I say stop. Go!”

The first group takes off. The bridges bounce and sway beneath their boots and emit alarming creaks and squeals. When the fastest fledgling gets to the halfway point, the next two students in line squat down, grab each side of the bridge, and start shaking the foundation.

“What in the hells are they doing?” I hiss.

Olive snorts. “Don’t worry, it’s part of the exercise. If you don’t do it, Kinneck throws you in the pit.”

That sounds ominous. “Do I even want to ask what’s in the pit?”

Abel drops an arm around my shoulder. “Probably not, and we don’t know yet anyway. It changes every time.”

I scoot closer and peer into the abyss. Darkness greets me. “How deep is it?”

He shrugs. “Dunno, but the good news is, no one’s died from this yet.” He scratches his chin. “As far as I know. Wanna know the bad news?”

I chew my lower lip before shaking my head. “Pass.”

Abel offers me a dark chuckle and a head pat. “You’re learning.” The fledgling on our bridge finishes. Before I can protest, Abel nudges me forward. “Here, you go next. Standing around will only make you more nervous.”

“No! Wait! I don’t want to?—”

Kinneck materializes out of nowhere. “Fledgling Axton! What seems to be the hold up here?”

“I…nothing, sir.”

He claps his hands three times in a row. “Then let’s get a-crack-a-lackin! Go, Axton. Go!”

The muffled chortle from behind me has to be Abel. The traitor. In my mind, I toss both him and Kinneck into the pit.

In reality, I place my right boot on the bridge with the upmost care. My body freezes when the surface shakes.

Where’s Elijah when you need him? I’d happily let him hit me again to get out of this exercise. I wonder if it’s too late to punch myself in the face instead.

“What are you waiting for, Axton? An invitation from King Xenon himself? You have until the count of three to start hustling, and then I’m shoving you in.”

Crap. I scramble to place my right foot in front of my left. Despite the sickening sway of the bridge, I keep moving, placing one foot in front of the other.

A familiar yelp comes from my left. I risk a glance to confirm that Olive is on the next bridge over.

“There you go! And hold on tight, because here comes the balance challenge.”

Hold on tight? To what? Unless he wants me to grab a stray bird that flies past, there’s nothing here for me to grasp besides air.

I cringe, knowing what’s coming next, and continue my slow crawl across the wobbly planks. A high-pitched creak jolts me. I spin my arms to maintain my balance as the bridge bucks beneath my boots.

I last one second. Two. Another wave strikes. I stumble forward but manage to remain on the wood.

Near the halfway point, hope rises. I’m getting closer. One step at a time. A gentle breeze flutters a loose strand of hair, and I inhale the scent of pine-and-salt before easing forward.

The bridge bucks again. I wobble. My left foot slips off the edge, and though I start to recover, a strong blast of wind slams into my back. Air magic.