by Sara Kincaid
Dax led the recruits up to the tallest tower on the eastern side of the palace grounds. Through the small slatted windows, Rina could see the personal quarters of Regent Solon and those of his niece and nephew, Arayna and Tevin. Tevin was expected to be the next Regent and Raze was fully in support of that succession plan.
At the top of the stairs, Rina and Malik stood in line, waiting to receive their weighted belts. Rina glanced out the window and down to the ground far below. The thought of jumping out and soaring into the sky wasn’t exactly frightening. She’d learned from Niko that part of the magic of the wings made by the Mystics was the faith one had in their equipment. This figured prominently into the final test and leap off of Mt. Yama. Jump or die.
Malik leaned in close while they waited. His dark eyes were keen with urgency. “FireStorm is a brave soldier.”
“Yes, I know. He and my brother were best friends.” She searched Malik’s face, waiting for him to continue.
“That may be,” Malik acknowledged. “But don’t you think there’s a reason why your brother made him third in command instead of second?”
Rina opened her mouth in surprise. But, Malik had already stepped forward to accept his weights. Rina stumbled forward. She took her belt and quickly strapped it around her hips before jogging to join her partner a few steps ahead.
Her mind reeled. Rina knew that Raze had been third in command beneath her brother. The Aviator who had occupied the second spot was a man named Vane Archer who bore the battle name of WhirlRider. But, after Niko had died, Raze had been named the new battalion leader and not Vane. Surely that meant Raze was the superior officer. Unless WhirlRider had been offered the position and turned it down. But why would Niko have kept his best friend as third in command and promoted someone else over him when he became the commanding officer?
Rina was silent throughout the rest of their run. Blood pumped hard through her overworked limbs and her heart pounded in her chest. Commander Dax finished his assault on their calves and thighs and the fledgling soldiers were allowed to go clean up. After showering, Rina dressed and sat on her bunk, combing her towel-dried hair before swiftly plaiting it into a braid. “Rina.” Malik straightened his sleeve as he walked over.
Rina’s fingers paused and she looked up, greeting her friend with a smile. Malik sat gently on the bunk beside her. “I hope I didn’t upset you.” Even sitting, he towered over her.
“Of course not. I asked to know your thoughts.”
“And you love him,” he answered for her.
Rina shrugged, embarrassed. “I don’t know about that.” Rina thought about how her heart pounded when she was near Raze, not unlike the way it did when Dax made them run.
“He is an excellent warrior with an impeccable record.”
“He is,” Rina agreed and she knew that Raze would agree too. He was proud of his accomplishments.
If Malik noticed the hesitation in her voice, he didn’t remark on it. “I’m always here if you need me.”
Exhausted though she was, Rina skirted through the shadows, following the familiar path to Raze’s quarters. They hadn’t spoken that day, but Rina knew he would be there. She’d learned his schedule and maneuvered her way around it so that they could have a few moments together whenever possible. The only thing that fueled her forward was the thought of being in his arms. Perhaps that would curb the doubt that rose like smoke in her mind.
With training nearing completion, Raze had begun to talk about their living arrangements. He’d broached the idea of them living together in his quarters. But, Rina felt that she should spend some time in the Aviator barracks getting to know her fellow flyers first. It was the closest they’d come to an argument, but Raze’s reaction, blustering accompanied by smashing plates, stuck with her.
They’d made up, sealing the hole many times over with kisses and whispered promises and Rina willed it to be enough to mend the wound. She thought of his hands, calloused by battle and bowstrings, roaming over her, drawing her to him, but the resulting feeling was nowhere near the thrill it had once been.
Stars glittered in the river of black overhead and Rina was reminded of the stories of the many shapes and creatures that could be found hidden in their depths like a puzzle. She liked to believe that Niko was out there, roaming the skies borne by his majestic wings.
Gravel crunched beneath her feet and Rina jumped, glancing about. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of Commander Dax walking toward her. “Evening, recruit.” Dax leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Good evening, sir.” Rina saluted awkwardly.
“So this is why you’re always so tired in the morning,” he mused. A smug smile cracked his features. “Who are you going to see?”
“No one, sir.”
“There are rules for being out of the barracks after dark, recruit. You’re in violation.”
Rina’s heart sped up. The first woman in the Burgan military and also the first woman to bring dishonor to the Burgan military.
He seemed to sense her worries as the moments stretched between them. “Fear not, recruit.” Dax took a step closer to her and Rina shivered in spite of the warm summer night. His eyes bored into hers and Rina fought the inclination to shrink from him. He ran his knuckles along her jaw. “I could be persuaded to look the other way.” He let the words languish into smoke and an uncomfortable silence settled over them.
Rina’s mind reeled. She stepped back. “Sir,” she admonished, her eyes darkening. Dax followed, though his hand dropped from her face and instead, he reached for her shoulder. Rina batted his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
He snatched her wrist, his fingers circling it tightly as he pulled her to him. Panic rose, her stomach knotting. Instinctively, she reached for her training. Rina allowed herself to be pulled forward, stumbling. It was clear Dax thought he’d won. But as she came near, she turned her body and delivered a sharp elbow to the commander’s gut. Gasping for breath and spewing curses, he let go. Rina didn’t bother to look and see if she’d really injured him. She sprinted away, heading across the grounds to the recruit barracks.
Sitting in her bunk, Rina pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, though she sat straight up in the bed. Her teeth chattered and she wrapped her arms around her shoulders for comfort. Rina buried her face against her knees.
Commander Dax roused them just before dawn the next day. Rina kept her eyes on the ground and buried her hands behind her back. When the lights came up, she could finally see the large bruise circling her wrist that had throbbed painfully through the night and now formed a deep purple ring.
Each time Commander Dax walked up and down the rows of soldiers, Rina’s heart sped up and spots filled her vision. She remembered the cold chill that had ensnared her when he grabbed her. To her relief, he said nothing about their encounter in front of the other troops, but she spent those moments alternating between fear of having broken the rules and fear of him and what he had tried to do.
Finally, blessedly, he shooed them out into the sunshine for their daily run. As they took off into the morning heat, Rina relaxed into the rhythm of their pace. The tempo of her feet kept her mind off of the terrible incident from the night before. She kept her eyes trained straight ahead, her mouth set in a firm line.
Malik jogged beside her. “What happened?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your wrist.” He hissed. “Raze?” Rina shook her head vigorously and pulled her sleeve down.
Their run ended by the practice field where swords and shields were laid out on the ground. Commander Dax stood tall, hands on his hips, gold thread of his rank shimmering in the sunlight. “Since you’re about to be inducted officially into our ranks, today we’re going to begin practicing with real weapons. Pretty soon you’ll have your own weapon to care for and you should do so as if your life d
epended on it. More than likely, it will at some point.”
Rina clutched her right hand and cursed her poor luck. The bruising around her wrist had left her entire hand weakened. She’d be unlikely to be able to handle the extra weight of a sword or maintain a grip on a weapon.
The soldiers lined up and accepted their swords. Rina took a lighter blade more suited to her size and swallowed a grimace as she curled her fingers around the hilt and lifted the weapon from the ground.
She and Malik stepped aside and found some open space to square off. Rina tossed her braid over her shoulder and hefted the sword. A sharp pain shot through her arm, but she gritted her teeth. Malik attacked and Rina made a few clumsy parries. Their swords clanged together noisily, light reflecting around them as the sun hit the slick metal. Frustrated, she thrust the point of the sword into the ground. “What happened?” Malik shouldered his own blade, his arm muscle tensing with the movement.
Rina shook her head and switched hands, bending into a crouch. “Recruit Rina.” Commander Dax’s deep voice boomed out over the practice field. Rina turned and her fellow recruits came to a halt. Rina went rigid. Dax carried his sword casually in his belt, his right hand resting on the pommel bearing an eagle’s claw. “Join me on the practice field?” It was a question in tone, but Rina understand that the question was a mere courtesy.
Her practice sword was bitten and scuffed, but the blade was sharp and the blood channels gleamed. Rina held the sword point down and stepped forward at her commander’s request. Still standing at attention, the ends of her tunic flapping in the breeze, Rina raised her gaze and assessed her commander. His eyes were cold. She’d insulted him last night. Neither of them had told anyone about the encounter. His pride bruised, Dax was out for blood. “We know you’re quite accomplished with a bow and arrow. Let’s see how your training with a sword is coming along.”
“Yes, sir.” Rina’s voice was quiet, subdued and it barely registered in the ears of the recruits who surrounded them.
Before recruitment, Rina was well-known in the marketplace as Miyabi’s apprentice. Some would have even hazarded to call her beautiful. Her pouty lips, prominent cheekbones and hair like a streak of ink had turned many eyes as she’d wandered down the street, arms full of materials for mixing glazes.
But dressed as a warrior, her hair tied back and her muscles taut, Rina became something else entirely. Her weeks of training had begun to channel a new disposition and a scowl of determination crinkled her brow. The flush in her cheeks formerly enhanced by the bright colors and smooth fabrics she wore was lost in the silver and black of the recruit uniform.
The sword was heavy in her hand and Rina swallowed a groan when she closed her fingers around the hilt. As her sword point raised to shoulder height, Commander Dax descended. With a clockwise spin, he brought his own bright weapon down hard against Rina’s sword. The reverberation of steel on steel shook her and she winced as pain rocketed through her injured hand. But her grip held true and the weapon did not fall.
With her good arm, Rina shoved the commander away from her, ducking beneath the follow-up swipe of his weapon as he tried to take advantage of the moment she was off balance. She righted herself and prepared for the next blow.
Dax attacked her again and again, his blade seeking to penetrate her defenses. Rina tried to get in her own swipe, but extending her arm fully with the weight of the sword straining her muscles, caused her wrist to give out. A cry of pain escaped her lips. She caught the falling blade in her left hand and slashed upward to counter Dax’s oncoming attack. Her vision blurred with unwelcome tears and she hastily wiped her sleeve across her eyes.
Rina’s left hand was by no means weak. She had dutifully strengthened both hands in the studio. But, as a burgeoning warrior, she had not yet built up the skills of swordplay in her weaker hand. With the blade in her left hand, Rina was able to grip the weapon solidly and absorb the shock of Dax’s repetitive assaults, but getting in a hit of her own was problematic. The captain’s blue coat flapped as he spun and leapt, clearly showing off in front of the troops.
Rina let him. Dax already knew she was injured. He was simply toying with her, waiting for her to make a mistake.
Their blades clashed again and, this time, Rina made a run at him, hoping a nick in the arm would be enough to call first blood and end the fight. But Dax saw her trick and parried smartly, sidestepping her clumsy onslaught.
While the previous night Dax’s face had been naked with want, today he bubbled over with pure rage. He played it off as a sparring match, but in his features, Rina could see his ire and his face contorted further with every parry. His eyes flashed like the light from a spark lamp and his movements, while fluid with practice, were hard and angry.
The soldiers grew agitated as Dax’s ferocity increased. Malik glanced around hoping another superior officer or someone who outranked Dax would come out to the practice field.
Rina spun sharply, avoiding another downward swipe of Dax’s angry blade when her head was jerked violently backward. Her body followed. He had snapped his hand out as she spun and grasped her long braid, twining his fingers into the inky locks. Rina panted from the exertion of the match, her head turned at an uncomfortable angle so that she was forced to look up at the commander, her body contorted in an awkward bow.
Dax looked down blankly. He hefted his sword and, ignoring the shout of protest from Malik, drew his blade cruelly down toward Rina’s eye. Fearing that Dax intended to blind her, Rina reacted, wrenching her head away from him, though her movement was limited due to his grip on her braid. The sword missed her eye but opened a large, curved gash from the corner of her eye down to her mouth.
Blood filled her vision. The damage done, Dax let go and shoved her cruelly away. Rina landed on her knees in the dirt, her hand covering the wound. Rivulets of red coated her fingers.
The crowd around them stood speechless, clearly understanding that he had cut her on purpose. The scar would be big and ugly. For the rest of her life, it would be the first thing that anyone would see when they looked at her.
Malik was the first to rush forward. He guided her to her feet. “Come on. We have to get you to the healers. It’s going to be alright.” Rina took a shaky breath and allowed herself to be led from the practice field.
The Healer’s Ward was a small, stone building near the military barracks. Rina blinked and her lashes stuck uncomfortably together. When they’d reached the little building, Malik didn’t bother to stop to knock on the door, instead grasping the handle firmly and shoving his way inside.
Two healers, swathed in green tunics with billowing sleeves looked up from a book they were studying beneath a spark light. When they saw Rina, they closed the book with a snap and hurried over. “Oh dear,” the first one clucked. She tossed her long red hair out of her eyes and led Rina through another doorway and guided her to a chair beneath a spark light.
The second healer, a young man with hands like butterfly wings ran off and returned a few moments later with clean clothes, bandages and hot water. “Master Gina,” he called softly as he came into the room, his voice as gentle as his touch.
The master healer stepped aside and allowed her apprentice to take her place. “I’m Nev. I’m just going to clean you up, okay?” His eyes were a soft green and when Rina took her hand away from the wound, he gently began to clean the torn skin with his supplies. The cloth became soaked in red and Nev tossed it in a basket by the wall and grabbed a fresh one. The water stung, but Rina stayed still.
“I’m so sorry, Rina.” Malik’s face contorted.
“Malik, there’s nothing you could have done.” Her words were garbled due to Nev’s hands holding her chin as he worked.
Master Gina took over once Nev finished cleaning the wound. “We must stitch it up,” she mumbled as she curled her fingers around the needle. Rina’s stomach soured. Gina eyed her patient, taking in her pa
llor and glassy eyes. She gestured to her apprentice and he rushed around the room, filling a syringe with a clear liquid. Master Gina took the filled syringe in her hand. “This will sting just a bit.”
Rina closed her eyes and held her breath until she felt dizzy. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as she feared. She didn’t even know how much of her face the cut had marred. What would Raze think? He had all sorts of scars from old battle wounds. Surely if anyone understood it would be him. Rina cringed, feeling a dizzying tug on her face as Master Gina began to sew the skin around the wound together.
After a few minutes, Master Gina stepped back and examined her handiwork. “All right. Now we’ll just bandage it up.” She reached for the gauze but stopped as Rina spoke up.
“No. I want to see it first. How bad is it?” When no one responded, she turned to her friend. “Malik,” she pleaded. “Please tell me. How bad is it?” Her lips were dry and she licked them to stop the stinging. For the moment, her cheek was blessedly numb.
Malik tightened his grip on her shoulder. “He tried to disfigure you.” His words had little effect and when she didn’t break her gaze, he nodded at the healers. “It’s what she wants. Show her.” His lips were a grim line, but he hadn’t flinched when he looked at her.
Nev left the room for a moment and came back with a handheld looking glass. “It will look better once it begins to heal.” He held out the mirror for her and Rina took it in her left hand, breathing deeply before gazing upon her injury. Immediately her eyes were drawn to the angry gash on her left cheek. The wound was clean of fresh blood and striped with black stitches. Master Gina’s stitching was small and precise and Rina could tell she had tried to be as neat as possible. The skin was angry and red around the wound, though the rest of her face was creamy and pale. Her eye did not droop and her lip had not been snagged, so Rina had hope that other features of her face would remain unchanged. Still, the sight of the gash caused her breath to catch in her throat and tears welled once more in her eyes.