Page 34 of Feathers of Ash and Hope

At the moment, I stand with my division’s two squadrons of runners in the inner courtyard. I look up at the big clock gracing the wall over the gate. We still have a few minutes.

Today, it’s our turn to head out and up the mountains for camp training. Every division gets those five days to prepare our runners for Picking.

Only four riders will be on this trip. Next to me is Jared, who unknowingly volunteered this time—payback is payback, after all—and the two squadron leaders, Cassius and Flavius.

Jared and I scouted out the location for our final camp two days ago, making sure we picked a place with easy water access and enough shelter so we wouldn’t be exposed to the wind. All of these are things we will teach our first years during the next five days.

A flight of riders is getting ready to leave for a long patrol on the opposite side of the courtyard. I catch Summer eyeing them and their birds longingly.

I would prefer a flight over the daylong hike, too. Sure, we could take out the birds that live on the academy grounds, but that would defy the purpose since this trip is meant to prepare them for Picking, and they won’t have their birds until after that.

My eyes fly over the four orderly rows of runners in front of me. We are finally complete.

My attention is drawn to Summer when the runner beside him turns his head to face him.

“You’ve never been camping?” His shocked voice carries easily. “But … how did you spend your summer?” He’s focused on Summer, not on us. I glare at them, then look at Cassius, allowing him to handle it.

Being the squadron leader for runners—more of a babysitting job than active leading—is the first step on the way up. He has to prove himself if he wants me to appoint him as squadron leader over active riders next.

Cassius fights a grin and exchanges a knowing look with Summer. I frown. Maybe my squadron leader has more information about our new runner than he has led on so far. When he catches my look, he instantly sobers.

“Ilario, Summer, quiet,” he snaps, and I can finally start.

“While we’re out, I want you to get used to wearing armor. I won’t make you don full armor—we are not headed into battle after all—but I expect you to wear these.” When I point behind me to the helmets piled on a cart, I expect a protest, but I’m only met with silence.

“They limit your perception, and once you are full riders, there will be times you fight, rest, and even sleep in them. Wearing them nonstop for five days will help you get used to it and the extra weight of carrying a shield. Those two items are also the only things you will be allowed to take with you to Picking. So feeling comfortable with them is advisable.”Everyone files in two rows while their squadron leaders distribute the armor parts.

That went better than I thought, so I’m cautiously optimistic while we head out the main gate.

We leavethe paved road right after the city wall, and the ground is reddish-brown and dry beneath our feet, loose rubble making it treacherous for anyone not watching their step.

Orderly rows of silvery olive trees, orange trees heavy with fruit, cork trees, as well as vineyards line the first part of our walk before the wild beauty of the mountains swallows them. The morning air is heavy with the scent of herbs like thyme and sage.

I order the first stop after we have been walking for six hours. We are slower than I anticipated since most runners are not used to the mountain air. At that pace, we won’t reach our final destination until tomorrow.

“Well, who doesn’t enjoy walking up a damn mountain if he could fly instead,” Jared grumbles next to me. “And with a helmet on my head so far off from the mists. You know how to serve payback, I have to give it to you.”

I try to stay serious, but the corner of my mouth pulls up.

“You even enjoy seeing me suffer, you bastard.” When I raise an eyebrow at him, he adds, “Sorry, Centurion Bastard, those are even worse than regular bastards.” I catch a runner throwing Jared an incredulous look and shake my head at my best friend.

“Sorry, I know, not in front of the kids,” he says before turning to the runner who heard him. “I’ve known him sincebefore he knew his own name. If you try something like that, we’ll have one less runner to worry about.” The runner pales and turns away. “There, all cleared up.”

I grin. Even bad-tempered, Jared is fun to be around. But Jared’s speech about knowing me so long reminds me of the look Cassius threw Summer. I scan the forty runners resting in the shade and find the other two riders talking close to Summer and his flight.

“Cassius.” I beckon him over.

“How do you know Summer?” I ask once he reaches us. He looks taken aback.

“I … I mean, we grew up together, sir.”

“Is he a safety hazard?” I ask the question that has bugged me for a while now.

“No, sir.” His answer is immediate and truthful.

“That is all. Thank you, Cassius.” He nods and leaves.

“What was that about?” Jared asks.

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