"Yeah, but that's just the start. We also need to do exceptionally well."
Codric shrugged. "I just want to pass the training and become a rider. I don't need to be the best."
"Whatever secret project those two are working on must be something big," Shovia said from behind us. "Kailin doesn't keep secrets from me. Ever."
"Naturally, it's Dragon Force business," Morek said. "Something classified."
Codric turned his head to look at them over his shoulder. "What classified business could possibly involve a first-day cadet?"
"Her brother's in Ravel's squadron," Morek said. "Maybe it's something to do with him."
If Ravel had some official reason to speak with Kailin, I could understand the secrecy, even if I didn't like it. But what could Kailin possibly need to discuss with him that required privacy?
"Maybe she's secretly a spy," Codric suggested with mock seriousness. "Sorry, Shovia, but your best friend might have stolen your dream."
"You might be right," Shovia said, imitating Codric's theatrical tone. "My theory is that Commander Tall, Dark, and Brooding tasked Kailin with spying on the two suspicious Elurian infiltrators. She must have found out something incriminating that couldn't wait until her next scheduled meeting with him, so she asked to speak to him right after class."
"That's not funny," I muttered, but my mind went to the sketch I had copied and Kailin had remarked upon.
The map was harmless, and I had been merely copying what had been left glued to the wall by my room's previous occupant. Kailin was smart enough not to make a big deal of something like that.
"It's very funny," Shovia insisted. "Kailin would make the worst spy ever. She can't lie to save her life, and her face gives away everything she's thinking."
She was right about that. Kailin wore her emotions openly, which was part of what drew me to her. That openness was refreshing after years of navigating the deceptive and deceitful waters of Elurian politics.
I was doing a poor job of showing my appreciation for that quality. I'd been suspicious, confrontational, and too quick to jump to conclusions. It was in my nature as well as my upbringing and training, but if I wanted to have a chance with her, I needed to demonstrate that I trusted her and hide my suspicions if I couldn't eradicate them.
"Whatever it is, I hope she can tell us soon," I said. "For her sake. Secrets can be a heavy burden."
I knew that better than most. My own mission here was weighing on me. I was at the academy to learn as much as possible about the Elucian military in general and the Dragon Force in particular. I needed to advance through the ranks and gain not only access to the intelligence that Elucians collected and fiercely guarded, but also to gain their trust and perhaps secure aerial protection for Eluria in case of a future conflict with the Sitorian Union, which I knew was coming.
Furthermore, I found it shameful that tiny Elucia had better defenses than the mighty Elurian Federation, and not just because it had a Dragon Force.
The compulsory service ensured that every arm of Elucia's military was properly staffed and that each citizen was well trained and could be called upon in case Elucia was undermassive attack. In Eluria, service was voluntary, and the Elurian military had been shrinking over the past several decades. Part of it was population decline—people were just not having enough babies—and part was the reluctance of young people to join the military, even though it paid better than most entry-level jobs.
We were a spoiled society, or rotting, as some of the worst political rags phrased it. We'd gotten too comfortable, too secure in our supposedly safe part of the continent, with Elucia separating us from the Sitorian Union.
To attack us, the Sitorians would need to go through Elucia or come from the ocean, which was possible but not likely.
That's how we traded goods with them.
Deep ocean navigation was not possible because of the erratic magnetic currents and volatile waters, but merchant ships managed the voyage between Eluria and Sitoria by hugging the coastline. Still, the Sitorians needed a massive fleet of warships to attack us, and our spies there didn't report any large-scale shipbuilding efforts, commercial or military.
"Here we are," Codric announced as we reached a set of double doors. "Military Tactics and Strategy, taught by Commander Nyla Kestrel."
I had no idea how Codric memorized everything so quickly. He'd read over the syllabus once and remembered the names of the classes and the instructors.
Perhaps the difference between us was that I was constantly preoccupied with conflicting agendas and secret plans and my mind had very little room left for anything else. On the other hand, my cousin's only preoccupation was chasing after girls.
The classroom was larger than the previous one, designed to accommodate more cadets. Unlike our earlier classes, which had been limited to the twenty-four new recruits from our pilgrimage, this one included the other twelve first-year cadetsfrom this year’s two previous pilgrimages, bringing the total to thirty-six.
Many were already seated, arranged in three sections of tiered seating that faced a central podium where a lean, athletic woman with close-cropped curly black hair was organizing materials.
"Let's grab seats in the middle," Codric suggested, nudging me toward the center section. "I want a good view of the beautiful Commander."
"Shh," I hissed at him. "She might hear you."
"So?"
