First step: always fly with a harness.
Got it. Without the harness there would be nothing to grip. Using a harness is the only safe way to take flight. Key word, safe. Focus on that. The harness has three main components, the collar around its neck and another strap with footholds buckled just behind its wings. And the reigns I hold in my hand are the final piece. I fasten the end of it to the leather collar with a single clip. Doesn’t seem quite sturdy enough. Then, I secure my feet in the footholds properly and grip the reigns. Now what?
I don’t want to ask any foolish questions, but I don’t know how to make it go. I look to Master Sephyre with a dumbfounded look on my face, silently asking for help. Then I look to my peers, whom I see bantering and snickering amongst each other. I look back to Master Sephyre for guidance.
“Fly!” he shouts.
The eagle raises its massive wings in the air and beats them until we are no longer safely planted on the ground. It flies upward at an alarming angle, higher and higher, flapping its wings with incredible force. Its muscles flex and relax as the wings push down and up, down and up. Powerful wings indeed.
Second step: minimize the wind resistance and maximize the aerodynamics.
I lean into the eagle. I’d sit upright if I were trotting along on Helios. But the force of the winds could easily rip me from the bird up here. I squeeze the bird tighter with my thighs at the thought.
The large chamber looks even larger from this perspective. My classmates down below are small, blurry dots. The chamber spins, and I grip the eagle even tighter. We climb higher, reaching heights above the redwoods. Nearing the ceiling. And the eagle stops lifting and lets its wings hold steady. I let out a deep sigh and realize my head is hugging tight against the bird, my arms snug around its neck. The length of its wings fully outstretched gives me a sense of safety, even if it’s a false sense. I try to refrain from looking down.
With my head flat against the bird, angled sideways, I can see inside most of the hollows. Some have inhabitants. They appeared empty from ground level, but there are roughly two dozen in which I can make out a beak or some dark shape hiding inside. Our flight nears the corner of the chamber. In the shadows there is a slightly larger hollow. I can’t imagine a bird getting larger than the one I’m mounted on, but this hollow could house a bird twice the size. As I stare at it with intrigue, I see movement. There’s a bird in it.
Intrigue overcoming fear, I give the harpy eagle a little tap with both feet to signal him forward instead of banking left. He’s probably intelligent enough to turn before getting too close to the wall, I hope. The bird soars forward.
It’s too dark to clearly see inside. I shrug my shoulders and tap on the raptor with my left foot. As I do, there is a guttural growl that startles me. We curl around the bend, in which the eagle dips slightly and soars faster. I slip. The outstretched wing is there to stabilize me, but I mistakenly look down to see the class below, and they are so far away. My stomach churns, and I put my eyes back at my level. Too much excitement. I need to get back to ground level.
The wind on my face feels amazing, and I can see the horizon off in the distance through the archways. An astonishing view. Then, my stomach gets left behind when the bird dives at an angle I’m not comfortable with. The erratic movement sends my mind into a whirlwind. I picture myself dismembered on the ground below, and my mind goes into a frenzy.
Step four is stay on. That was an easy one to remember because why would you not stay on? Easier remembered than executed, though. What was step three? I scramble to pick my brain for the answer. My mind skips around to the various topics I’ve been learning, overwhelmed by the numerous texts Astor has been forcing on me. All the new regeneration techniques I’ve been learning from Master Luwin come to the surface, but that’s not what I need now. Then, my mind jumps to the exam I have coming up in my History of Azure course and how ill-prepared I am—I get a bit more uncomfortable at the thought. I have all the knowledge I’ve learned in the past month swirling around in my head, but I can’t seem to pinpoint what the third step of flight is. It had something to do with controlling the bird. Why did he make me go first? I wish he would have mentioned us taking flight prior to today so I could have better prepared mentally.
The bird continues diving as I squeeze the reins. The wall on the opposite side of the flight chamber is closing in rather fast. The bird isn’t turning. It keeps at its suicidal dive, heading toward the wooden wall in front of us. How do I control this thing?
I kick it hard with my left foot to signify the urgency. It works on a tiger, why not a bird. Our course remains the same. I shift the reins to my left hand and tap on its wing. It has no effect on the flight pattern, so I hit it harder. I don’t know if the bird reacts to my blows or the wall in front of us, but it lifts its wings and angles its tail down, coming to a complete halt in the air. The sudden change in velocity forces me from the eagle’s back, leaving me hanging vertical from a bird that I never wanted to get on in the first place. I curse out loud to the man that made me get on this thing.
With one foot secured in the foothold, I attempt to climb back atop the bird. I grab a fistful of feathers with my free hand. For a moment I make headway, but I fall back when the feathers pluck free. They flutter into the air, and Zephyr shifts into distress mode. The bird flaps its wings fiercely as if I’m a predator. It attempts to peck at me while in flight, but it can’t reach me, so it lifts its enormous talons and wraps them around my loose leg. To avoid having my other leg ripped off, I scramble to shake it free and find myself hanging upside down in the bird’s grasp. It circles the building, sending out fierce screeches periodically until it decides I’m no longer a threat. I feel its talons loosen and soon find myself drifting through the open air, unaccompanied by the raptor.
It suddenly occurs to me. Third principle: don’t pluck a bird’s feathers.
“Stone? Stone, are you awake?” a soft voice inquires.
I inhale a deep breath of honeyed lavender. My eyes flicker open to see Astor standing above me. Her silver-blonde hair is draped over her shoulder in a braid, and her beautiful silver eyes sparkle like stars in the night. The sight of her dampens my pain and brings a smile.
“Yes,” I reply in a hoarse whisper. Astor returns a smile.
“You’ve had a rough day.”
“What makes you say that?” She lifts me onto my side then pulls my trousers down and pricks my rear. “Ouch! What was that for? I think a bit of sarcasm is acceptable after a near-death experience.”
“Master Sephyre said you made flying look difficult. He said you were bold enough to attempt to fly without the raptor. Is that true?” I refrain from answering that mocking question. “Don’t worry about the prick. It’s only an experiment.”
“What? I thought I was clear when I said I didn’t want you using any of your magic on me.”
“Chanting provocative verses and boiling love potions is magic,” she says, offended. “Look at this flower.” She pulls a yellow flower from a vase and hands it to me. “Smell it. It smells wonderful, yes? It looks beautiful, yes?”
“Yes. Why are you changing the topic?”
“Now, would you say it is the flower that smells so delightful, or would you question what you already know, seeking the true reason the flower is aromatic?”
“It’s obvious the flower smells good. Why question it?”
“What if it isn’t the flower but merely you’re perception of the flower? Could it be the pistil, or the pollen that are so aromatic and not the flower as a whole? Always questioning the known and obvious is science. Always looking for a better answer to an unproven theory is science. Discovering the facts is science. It is primarily the petals that have the scent, in case you were wondering. And that is what I’m doing. It’s known as the Survival Sciences.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“That’s because I just came up with it.” She gleams. “What do you think?”
“Well if it�
�s all about survival, then don’t you think you should refrain from inflicting pain upon others? Oh no! What time is it? I had four more courses to attend before that feathery beast nearly killed me. I can’t be late to Social Etiquette.”
“Don’t worry. When I heard of your accident, I informed your instructors of the incident. They’re not expecting your attendance today.”
“Why would you do that?” I shout while attempting to sit up. “Argh!” My arms, my legs, my back, it all hurts. Pain screams throughout any moving body part. I flop back onto the bed and try to remain still until the pain subsides.
“That’s why.”
“But I can’t miss any lessons,” I argue. “I’m already too far behind. That’s why I’m in the condition I am right now. What time is it?”
“Calm down, Stone. What’s changed your attitude? One day, you’re eager to get out of this city, and the next, you can’t miss a beat in your studies. What’s changed?”
“Why do I need a reason to be successful? I simply don’t like to fail. It’s embarrassing.”
“Yeah, but…” she pauses. “Your sister.”
My eyes light up. “What do you know about her? Has there been news? Did the pigeons return?”
“No.” She sits at my bedside and places a hand on my calf. “But you have to admit…your tune has changed.”
“Can you just help me out of bed? Why is my body not healing anyways?” I flip the linens off. “Where are my trousers?” I gasp and suddenly feel warm.
“Well…” she shrugs, and her fair skin flushes. “I wanted to try some of my herbal medicines. Your legs were severely injured.” She throws the linens back over me. “Madam Platina took care of the worst of it and sent you off. You were out of it and groaning in your sleep. I took the liberty of rubbing one of my salves on your legs to ease the pain. I’m unsure if it worked, however. With you being asleep and all.”
“So, you experimented on me.” I roll my eyes and sink into my pillow. “If my legs fall off, I’m going to be furious.”
“Your body is healing, by the way. If you didn’t have the talent you do, you’d be dead. You have something special, Stone. You should be free of pain soon enough.”
“I miss Jay.” I close my eyes and hide under the linens. Astor remains silent. Her scent of lavender and honey consumes my senses. I push the linens back down. “I suppose that’s why my attitude has changed. I’ve always protected her. Cared for her. And now I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where she is, and I can’t help. I am getting closer to the Taoiseach like we discussed, but I’m not learning anything about him. If anything, he’s only learning more about me. I don’t know how to break through to find his weaknesses. He has complete control of everything around him. I’m lost. And…my coursework is my fallback. Except I continue to fall. And I don’t know when I’ll hit bottom. I’m lost, Astor.”
“You’re a capable man, Stone.” She turns away and continues in a softer voice, “Your sister will turn up. I know she will.”
“You think me a man?”
Astor turns back to face me with a puzzled and alarmed expression but soon follows it up with a smile and a calming laugh. “Continue on as you are, Stone. If there is sudden change in your behavior or you disappear from Harris’ lessons without word, it will cause suspicion. If you carry on hiding within his shadow, it’ll buy you time until Goose and Jaymes reappear. Or until we get a return message from the pigeons. And in the meantime, you might as well better yourself by learning as much from or about the man as you can.”
“It’s going to be tough while incarcerated in an infirmary.”
“You always see the challenge. Try looking for the solution once in a while.” She tilts her head with a cute grin and rolls her eyes. “As you’re well aware, I’ve been through all of these courses once already. It’s been several seasons since I’ve been invested, sure, but I’m still a viable source of information. It’s decided. I’m going to be your very own personal tutor.”
“Tutor?” I’m unconvinced of the idea.
“Yes. Today’s happenstances are clear proof you need one. You could have easily corrected the flight of that bird had you properly prepared yourself. It is well trained, and I saw for myself Madam Platina’s infirmary didn’t get overpopulated today, which tells me you’re the only one with an aeronautical incident. You’re overextended, Stone. You need help.”
“I suppose it would help. But what time is there in the day for more studying? My day is already filled to the brim with six courses a day, insufficient time for meals, and even less time for sleep. The only time I have to study is during meals or right before I shut my eyes at night.”
“I have an extra cot in the closet. We can get you all the studying you require each evening before your much-needed beauty sleep. Plus, my place is more centrally located to your lessons than the inn you’re calling home. It’ll free up the time spent traveling between classes. It makes sense. What do you say?”
“What about Master Sephyre? He wouldn’t have another man roaming on his territory. He thinks himself an alpha male who has rights to all women. Especially one staying on his grounds. He’d be offended.”
“I will have a conversation with Master Sephyre. He will understand.”
She leans over me to check my injuries, and her sweet aroma fills the air around me. Her place does smell better, and it’ll likely be kept clean and free of clutter, unlike my own quarters. I still don’t understand why she’s so eager to help me, though. She is unlike anyone I’ve ever met. I’m not sure if she truly is as selfless as her acts prove or if she’s a mastermind with an underlying motive. I’m hesitant to trust her. Why am I so hesitant? Her story and willingness to help aren’t infallible, which gives me purpose to prove her dishonesty, I suppose. Is it me? Has my heart been tortured so much I can’t trust the kindest and most beautiful woman in the city? Or is it the strange grasp she has on me that I cannot resist?
“Okay.” I give her a curt nod and crooked smile.
“Wonderful! I’ll send to have your belongings delivered.”
Choice is a privilege plucked from the shadows. It is hardly recognized and often takes a trained eye to know when you’ve come across one. And even then, you don’t see it until it is behind you. Blame, on the other hand… It is everywhere for all to see. Blame is awarded to everyone and anything. It is this you must weed through to pluck from the shadows of choice.
34 Jaymes
W ill I ever taste anything again? Apple pie. Meat sticks. Creamy buttered potatoes. I sit with my legs curled underneath me at the bench in the window and stare out, imagining the smells and the flavors of too many wonderful foods I’ll never experience again. My stomach grumbles. It’s about time for supper, but I’ll get a large spoonful of slop dumped in my bowl.
My tongue, or lack of, has healed for the most part, but it’s a bit tender still. A useless little nub in the back of my mouth that gets in the way when I eat. Like an awkward friend who lingers after the party is over, but you’re too polite to tell them to get the fuck out. That’s what my tongue is now. A guest that’s overstayed its welcome.
I fucking hate her.
“Sulking in the window again, I see.”
I shrug my shoulders and don’t bother turning to look at Elder. “What else am I supposed to do. I’m a prisoner.” I say it, but all I hear is a garble of noises. No hard T’s, no soft D’s, no S’s whatsoever.
“Prisoner? Hardly. You have free range of the estate. And more if you put your training to good use.”
My brow curls inward as I peer over my shoulder at him. Is he suggesting I sneak out? Past the impenetrable wall that murders anyone who gets too close. Tigershit.
“They’re not villains, you know. The Taoiseach and Ellia. I mean, really, what is a villain? Someone who sees the world differently than you. That’s all. Even if they intentionally assassinate people, take lives when needed for the greater good, they’re doing what they believe is right. Just beca
use someone, somewhere said ‘Here, these are all the virtues a man should have,’ doesn’t make those virtues right. They may be fantastic guidelines to follow, but are we not allowed to sacrifice our own self-worth to protect a higher purpose?”
I was merely in search of my freedom. I didn’t mean for it to take me here. But all I did was trade one master for another. An overprotective, caring master who confined me to what he approved of, to a careless, heartless master who only approves of using me as his own tool. And where is Ellia in all this? She trains me. She encourages me. Then, she belittles me and disciplines me. I’m not even sure if she follows the Taoiseach, heart and soul— Ah, who am I kidding? She doesn’t have a heart and soul. She swaggers through this world for herself. She may approve of the Taoiseach and believe he is a great man, but she would strike him down in a heartbeat if it bettered…what? I don’t know. She’s not self-indulged like most. What are her motivations?
“Did the Taoiseach do it?” Again, only mutterings.
“Pardon me?” Elder moves closer and sits beside me on the cushioned bench.
He’s a young man now. The last time I saw him prior to reacquainting, he was bleeding out in the Grand Atrium of the Redwood Chamber. He was a soft boy at the time. Now, he doesn’t appear so different. Taller, maybe a tad broader in the shoulders, but he remains soft in appearance. Sandy hair, gentle chocolate eyes, no scruff about his chin. A few blond hairs but none of that dark stubbly stuff boys his age try to grow out on their upper lip to state their manhood. I always want to hand them a razor. Somebody needs to teach them about patience. Just shave it off and wait for it to grow in true. A handful of stubble doesn’t make you a man. But Elder doesn’t have that issue.
Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) Page 43