Page 28 of Feathers of Ash and Hope

“The coop,” he replies. “There is one at every corner of the property. This one houses all the Strixes raised here.”

“But I thought the birds always grow up wild?” Mariel, the red-haired girl I met during Assessment, asks.

“The bonded ones do,” the rider agrees. “But if we confiscate eggs from poachers, they have to be raised by hand, and since they never bond or leave, they stay at the academy. You will have your flight lessons with them.”

“Why don’t they bond?” Mariel asks the question I had in mind. The rider shrugs.

“That’s a question for Professor Myrsky. You’ll have Magical Creatures with him.”

I watch in awe as two of the white birds take flight the moment we jog past the tower. They launch from one of the arches, in short succession of another, and, swooping down,pass over us so closely that the wind of their wings whips around us. All runners cower instinctively, and the riders laugh.

“You’ll get used to it,” the same rider from before assures us, but I doubt it. How could you get used to something as magnificent as that?

By the time we get back to the main building, all runners are huffing and puffing, while the riders only show a sheen of sweat and seem fine otherwise.

We still have a long way to go.

At breakfast, we find the same crisp bread, olives, olive oil, and white cheese that we had with dinner the night before, but also a variety of fruit, cold meat, and fresh vegetables.

The food here seems as good as what I had at Sloan’s, which is a welcome surprise.

Right afterward, we are back in the courtyard.

The Aerie in full formation is a sight to behold. The dark gray of our uniforms, the way we stand in straight lines and blocks. We can almost be mistaken for marble statues in the dim lighting, except for the occasional movement and whisper, which is much more pronounced in areas occupied by us first years.

The sky still barely shows signs of the coming sunrise, or maybe the sun just hides behind the hulking mountains to the east. Our breaths forming clouds, the dark morning and the snow-capped mountains remind me that it is winter, even if the days here are much warmer than I’m used to from home.

I know I will be thankful as soon as the sun is out, but at the moment, I wish our uniform was thicker, like the one designed for flying worn by the riders in front of us.

There would be no way to hide my curves in that one, though.

Their uniform consists of body armor fitted to minimize air resistance, worn over a tunic and leather pants. Those thatseem to head out right afterward also wear bracers and greaves to protect their lower arms and legs, helmets, and next to two swords, their bow and quiver, a shield, and a spear.

Next to them, we runners look like civilians. Only the dark gray of our uniform matches.

While we listen to centurions address matters for the day for each division, the sky brightens slowly from gray to yellow-orange.

By the time the sky is a vibrant blue, only the first years and our squadron leaders are left.

After the surprise this morning, I chose the space behind Calix's hulking figure for formation. While I’m not short for a woman, I’m still one of the smallest in my flight, enabling me to hide in the back.

Joel is laughing about something one of the other squadron leaders said, and my stomach flips.

Joel Cassius is the son of the weapon master at Fortress Blackstone, Ben's best friend, and two years older than us. Needless to say, we spent a lot of time around each other growing up. He had been a good-looking boy with brown hair and warm eyes and was always nice to me. I had a major crush on him as a teenage girl.

His grin is the only thing boyish on him now. Joining the skyriders only made his shoulders broader and his movement more confident.

Shit.

I’m not surprised to see him climbing the ranks already—he soaked up as much of my father’s lessons as my brothers and I did—but why here?

He hasn’t seen me for three years, and I look nothing like my usual self. That has to count for something, right?Instead, you look like a younger version of his best friend,my inner voice taunts me.

With four brothers as study objects, my gestures and gait are spot-on, so normally I would say playing a boy for three months is easy, but now?

I peek around Calix. Joel separates from the others, and I hold my breath, still hoping this morning was somehow a mistake. I will him to go somewhere else, but he is heading in our direction. I bite my cheek to hold in a string of curses.

How am I supposed to accomplish my plan if the fates laugh at me by sticking me in his damn squadron?

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