Wingborn

by Becca Lusher

  Nine

  Winter to Spring

  AS THE SNOWS of Cold month drew to a close, the world began to warm again. Winter Rains lived up to its name and Mhysra’s fortitude was tested every morning as she slogged through mud and sleet. The winds were merciless, but nothing compared to Hethanon Armsmaster.

  Regardless of whether it was because of the training master or the weather, fewer and fewer students showed for their morning torture sessions. As the end of the year crept closer, the fifty recruits had been reduced by half. The remaining six girls and nineteen boys were now able to jog eight laps without pause. They could also handle a staff competently, with the promise of archery lessons should they make it through to the new year.

  Thanks to their dropping numbers, the students were granted one blessing: Sergeant Rees was released back to his regular duties. The three students who had survived his regime rejoiced. Though the same could not have been said when Sergeant Honra was also dismissed.

  For the most part, Mhysra kept her head down and worked on her staff skills, often paired against Dhori. She was one of the best girls and in the top half overall. Derrain also did well, a natural athlete and of a similar disposition to Lieutenant Stirla, who treated him more like a brother than a student. Harlan quit with the first downpour, but he met up with them on most Stardays to complain about his boring clerk apprenticeship. Ulla vanished amidst the snow and was last seen by Harlan boarding a south-bound trade ship.

  Mouse and Corin remained, though Corin preferred their afternoon lessons, being a bright girl and not really built for the rigours of Rider training. But she was determined to succeed. The longer Mouse trained the less nervous he became, though he still talked too much and was never still.

  It was monotonous work, both in the mornings and the afternoons, but Mhysra knew she was making progress when she no longer fell asleep, no matter how dull the lesson. The work became easier too, even if the subject matter was supposed to be harder. As the new year washed out winter and ushered in spring, she and her friends felt confident that they would last.

  “Four months and we’ll be Riders,” Derrain remarked one Starday, as the friends lazed at their favourite picnic spot in the pastures above Nimbys. It was one of the few places they could go and not be disturbed by Riders wanting tasks done or city brats picking fights.

  “You’ve got the exams yet,” Harlan warned as the students clinked their beakers. “Winter isn’t the worst of it.”

  “Exams, pah!” Corin scoffed. “I’ve heard you can sleep through them and still pass.”

  “And yet a handful of people fail each year,” Harlan said, smiling slyly at his cousin.

  “Why are you looking at me?” Mouse queried nervously. “Do you think I’ll fail? I’m not going to fail, am I? Gods, what if I do? What’ll I do? I can’t fail!”

  “Stop it.” Corin whacked Harlan on the arm, while Derrain pulled Mouse into a rough hug.

  “Take no notice of him,” Dhori advised. “You’ll be fine.”

  “You think so?” Mouse quivered, peeping over Derrain’s arm.

  “I know so,” Mhysra assured him, raising her cider in a toast. “To Mouse’s glorious future!”

  “To Mouse!” the others agreed, and he looked as pleased as if he’d graduated from Aquila already. Not even Harlan could bring himself to drag him down again.

  BY THE TIME the new year passed, the remaining students seemed set to stay, with fifteen boys and four girls. Milluqua was delighted, keeping her sister informed about the current betting and how much she’d won thanks to Mhysra’s resilience. Yet despite the feeling of belonging that had grown with every passing day, Mhysra was still uneasy. How could she feel otherwise when her deception against her parents was still in place?

  Her father knew nothing of her daytime activities, nor did he care. Her mother was busy, returning too infrequently to grow suspicious, but Mhysra knew that wouldn’t last. The months were passing and her exams were approaching. Even if she managed to finish the selection school without being found out, how was she to leave for Aquila without being missed?

  “You’ve time left,” Milluqua said one evening, while Mhysra was practising deportment by walking around the library with a stack of books on her head. Her sister was embroidering by the fire, the ever-growing Bumble snoozing on her feet.

  “Time, yes,” Mhysra grumbled, avoiding a footstool and a lump in the carpet. “But I need ideas. He’s assumed I’ve given up because I’ve stopped pestering him.”

  “Hm.” Milluqua yanked her thread taut. “I’m tempted to say leave without telling him.”