Page 79 of Of Blood and Banes
I can’t help but watch him walk back to the wagons, my heart sinking with each step he takes away from me. I haven’t had a full conversation with him since our argument outside of Driftmond. Nor much of a chance to tell him I’m sorry.
“He’ll get over it. Don’t you fret.”
“I sure hope so…”
“He’s in love with you. And I don’t think anything will ever change that.”
Sethan and A’nala say their peculiar little stars and skies motto before launching into the sky, the rest of the dragon riders on their tail. Once I lean forward and have my hands wrapped around the saddle horns, I narrow my eyes and chase away the queasy anxiety with determination.
“Don’t forget to breathe,”Daeja rumbles, and then breaks into a few strides before launching into the sky.
We lift higher and higher until Driftmond becomes a small cluster of buildings in the expansive landscape below. My stomach roils, threatening to upheave my breakfast.Perhaps it was an oversight, eating right before we fly. I won’t make that mistake again.I tear my gaze from the ground below and focus it ahead on the other dragons dotting the horizon line.
“A’nala is calling us to the front of formation for your second flight lesson.”
I sigh but clench my jaw.“Here we go again.”
I fell three times.
Three.
Fucking.
Times.
Daeja swooped up and grabbed me every time, long before the ground could be a threat. But it still made every fiber of my instincts scream. On the third fall, I found myself able to peek my eyes open and watch as Daeja descended upon me with outstretched wings and extended claws. Her grab was gentle. And I realized, this was training for her, too. She’s just much, much better at it than I am.
I will say, I didn’t manage to upheave my breakfast. I’ll call that a win.
By the time we land with Sethan and the rest of the dragon riders, my nerves tingle with exhaustion and adrenaline. Throwing my braided hair over my shoulder and out of my way, I work on unclipping my hooks and removing the waist belt before sliding off Daeja. Gods, the ground feels so steady beneath my boots. I didn’t realize how much I take it for granted until it’s hundreds of feet beneath me.
Sethan dips his head in a half-assed sign of approval, and his posse regards me with long glances before they turn their attention back to their dragons.
“Was that better?” I ask Sethan weakly, fighting against the urge to brace my weight on my knees.
“I suppose so.”
“How long do the riders at the academy usually train for?”
Sethan grins and slides his gaze over to the other riders in an open invitation to answer.
“Six years for me,” a man with a burly, brown beard says. His build is stocky, his head completely bald.
“Three for me,” a woman with black hair cropped to her jaw answers.
“Show off,” another woman with half her head shaved replies.
A man with black braids down to his abdomen interjects, “Generally, it takes about four years. But it mostly depends on your classification and ranks.”
My gaze bounces from person to person. “What do you mean by classifications and ranks?”
The man with black braids answers me first, “Each classification is broken down into the elements: fire, water, earth, and air. And from there, each classification has its own set of ranks: scouts, combat, messengers, healers, assassins, breeders, strategists, mages, and guards. Some of the ranks and classes take longer than others. Unless you’re Lexi.”
“At least you tell the truth, General,” the one with short black hair—Lexi—responds as she crosses her arms over her chest with a flirtatious grin.
“Enough, let’s keep moving. We’ll walk the rest of the way to Kilamber,” Sethan says, his gaze fixed on the city in the distance.
“Why didn’t we fly closer?” I ask.
