Page 59 of Feathers of Ash and Hope

“That’s not what I meant. You smiled.” He looks at me suspiciously.

“Don’t worry. I won’t do it again,” I deadpan. “Summer did save my life, though. Maybe I was trying to be nice.”

“There aren’t many around who can say that,” he agrees.

Because they’re all dead.

He probably didn’t mean to imply that, but the thought sours my mood.

“My point exactly.” I slap his back. “Let’s go hit something.”

The common roomis crowded this evening, making the big space seem much smaller. Apart from a few riders on courier duty, all squadrons of the southern division are in at the moment, and it seems most of them opted to stay in since the weather is still icy.

A few second and third squadron riders have a friendly competition of throwing knives at the target in the corner, and most chairs and couches are occupied. People are chatting and playing card games. Zaza is at the fireplace, casually placing wood right into the violet flames. The flames dance over her hand while she’s chatting with Tanner. Thankfully, she bounced back quickly after the run-in with the titans.

I sit next to Jared on one of the couches, balancing a book on my knees while I work on the patrol plan for next month. I have to hand it in tomorrow, and working around granted leaves and even distribution of all the squadrons can be a headache, even without the commotion going on around us.

I lift my head when the door opens. Summer walks in with another girl from her flight, and I nearly groan. Just what I need: another distraction.

The girls are both grinning like they shared a joke just before entering. Summer’s smile falters for a second when our eyes meet, and she looks away. They walk over to the rest of their squadron, sitting at one of the tables, animatedly discussing something. There is a bit of shuffling to make room for the newcomers, and Summer ends up on a bench between Cassius and another seasoned rider.

Since when do they hang out with riders?

I let my eyes wander over the group again and recognize the riders as being part of Cassius’s flight.

I turn back to the paper in front of me. This is exactly why I keep my distance.

“You can’t put squadron three on that.” Jared taps on the paper, criticizing my last entry.

“And why the mists not?” I ask.

“Because that one takes about eight days, and Jenna has leave coming up after five.” I curse when I see he’s right.

“How about you take over the planning?” I ask dryly, but shake my head when a wicked smile spreads across my best friend’s face. I know how Jared’s mind works by now.

“No, you can’t partner us with the second squadron of the eastern division for the whole month just because you’re sleeping with Nadja.” His smile morphs into a pout.

“Oh, come on, have a heart,” he pleads, “and I know for a fact that Stina would love to have you in her bed.” He grins at me. “You seem a bit stressed lately.”

Stina is a pretty redhead and Nadja’s friend, but all I can think about are those goose bumps popping up under my touch and a warm, smoky voice asking me not to be too gentle.

Holy mists, this girl is fucking with my head without even trying.

That she’s such a puzzle isn’t helping either.

“What?” I ask when I realize Jared must have asked me something. He gives me an odd look.

“Something is up with you.” He studies my face.

“Nothing is up,” I deny and try very hard not to look at the table across the room.

Chapter

Seventeen

ARA

“I wantto make sure you understand me here.” Professor Sanders pauses. “They are not pets,” he emphasizes the last four words. “Those Strix were raised and trained by humans, are far gentler than their wild brethren and any other kind of bird raised here. They will tolerate you on their backs, but”—he lets his gaze wander over us—“and this is important… they have no connection to you, they are not invested in your welfare, and they couldn’t care less if you fall to your death. So, under no circumstances are you allowed to loosen your straps. You will follow my instructions and those of your squadron leader to the point. No shenanigans. No excuses. Understood?”

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