Page 17 of Kingdom of Shadows and Wings

“Define ‘ready.’”

Sympathy softens her features. “Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.”

At least one of us has some confidence.

Following one of the paths that zigzag through the fields that separate the buildings, we trail a trio of students to a large rectangular structure. The main room is huge, close to the size of the Great Hall in my family’s castle. That’s where the similarity ends. Rather than gold, silver, and purpleheart wood adorning the interior, everything’s a solid gray—even the large mat that dominates the center of the room.

An older man with a thin but athletic build and short silver-streaked hair shoves two fingers into his mouth. The piercing whistle that follows makes me wince.

Students surge into motion. They fall into two neat horizontal rows, shoulders pulled back, eyes front, chins high. I follow their lead, taking a spot next to Olive.

When the silver-haired man turns his attention to those fledglings on the far left second line, I whisper to Olive. “Who is he?”

Eyes on the instructor, she keeps her voice low. “Instructor Broderick Kinneck. He’s in charge of strength and conditioning. Fair, but kind of a hard-ass. Try not to piss him off.”

Great. Another hard-ass like Thorne. Was there a buy one, get one free special or something?

Kinneck whistles again. If the training doesn’t kill me, that shrill noise might. “On the mat.Now. Give me fifty push-ups.”

My heart sinks. Upper body strength is not one of my strong points.

Mimicking the students around me, I drop to the floor. I stick my legs straight out behind me, bend my elbows, flatten my palms on either side of my head, and then push until my chest rises and my arms are straight.

One.

Grunts fill the room. The other fledglings race through their repetitions like it’s as natural as walking. Not me. I’m much slower and can feel my arm muscles burn by the fifth repetition. By the tenth push-up, they’re shaking. Enough that I already need to take a break.

Kinneck’s polished black boots appear by my head. “Fledgling Axton, what are you doing?”

“Push-ups. Sir.”

He toes my ribs. “Are you sure? Because it looks like you’re napping. Are you napping, Fledgling Axton?”

Snickers break out to both my left and right. Olive makes a worried moan.

“No, sir.” Gritting my teeth, I struggle to lift my torso again. I’m wobbling worse than earlier.

“Good, because there’s no napping in my class.” Kinneck’s voice booms through the cavernous room. “Push, Axton!Push.”

By the time I complete my twentieth push-up, sweat drenches me, my head spins, and my ears buzz. A wave of fatigue sweeps my body, a common occurrence when I’m physically active. Most of the other fledglings have already finished, including Olive. Their eyes bore into me, urging me to dig deep down and find more strength. I manage five more before I rest on the mat, panting.

Kinneck claps his hands. “Let’s count Axton through the remainder of her repetitions. Twenty-five more. If she takes another break before finishing, I’m adding another twenty for everyone else.”

If I felt eyes on me before, the attention is far worse now. The other fledglings gather in a circle around me, nailing me with disgusted glares and sneers. Their voices form a disgruntled chorus. “One. Two. Three.”

My arms ache, and I’m sweating buckets. I give the exercise my all, pushing through the fire in my muscles to straighten my quivering arms. I can’t fail. If I do, the entire class pays the price. Then even the ones who don’t hate me on sight will.

“Ten. Eleven. Twelve.”

Only thirteen more, then I can stop. I can do this.

I struggle through one more rep. Two. On the third, my arms give out and I collapse face-first. Attempting to straighten the limbs again feels like someone spearing my muscles with a red-hot poker. Demoralized, I groan my defeat into the gray mat. Outraged howls follow.

“No!”

“Are you serious? What kind of weakling are you?”

“Maybe we should make her go missing too.”

---