“Very good, Vednis.” Falcrest gave one of his rare praises, earning Lory a sideways glance from Eira Moonfell, who seemed to hang on the captain’s every word.
With wide eyes, they all stared as the captain turned toward the wall behind them, wedging his fingers into the cracks between the sand-colored stone it was built from, and hauled himself up before pushing off the wall in a leap powerful enough to transport him all the way to the handrail Lory had been leaning on a minute ago. Silent like a cat, he landed on the carved stone in a crouch, hands on either side to balance his weight, and more than half of the group held their breathas they waited for him to topple over the edge and break his neck on the limestone-tiled courtyard fifty feet below.
While Tabi and Jarek stepped back, Lory remained frozen a few inches from Falcrest, who didn’t as much as flinch at the prospect of someone pushing him to his death. Instead, he pointed at the roof of a broad outbuilding ten feet and two stories away. “Pay close attention, ashlings. In a few weeks’ time, you’ll be following my lead, and we’ll see how skilled blue really is.”
He didn’t wait for his words to register as he ran along the handrail, still in a half crouch as if not to draw attention with his height. At the end of the handrail, he swung his arms forward, throwing himself off the edge and pulling his legs in tight as he shot across the deadly gap below. Lory’s stomach dipped as he vanished from sight, and she wasn’t proud of how her heart seemed suspended mid-air until she leaned across the handrail, watching Falcrest land on the flat roof below with an elegant roll that would have broken Lory’s neck.
Yes, she’d spent her entire life climbing drainpipes and jumping from roof to roof, but that had been on the low buildings of the outer districts of Dunai. The height and distance Falcrest had just covered equaled over three times what she’d done so far.
“No way I’d make it across,” someone murmured at the back of the group, and if Lory was honest with herself, the ashling stole the words right from her mouth.
But Falcrest wasn’t done. Before Lory could wonder how he could break into a full on run from a tight roll on a stonesurface without as much as a wobble, he had made it diagonally across the roof, drawing the knife sheathed on his belt in a heartbeat, and he jumped … toward the wall of the pyramid the balcony of which they were standing on, rammed the blade between two boulders, and started climbing.
Not one finger slipped as he made his path up the slightly tilted wall; not one pebble broke off the limestone. Halfway up the building, Falcrest tiptoed along a ledge parallel to the ground until he stood ten feet above them, featuring a bored expression and not even breathing hard.
“Showoff,” Lory uttered under her breath as Falcrest sheathed his knife and dropped back onto the balcony, landing with a thud soft enough to make Lory wonder if he might not be entirely human.
Much to her surprise, Brycon grunted his agreement. “But he’s the Veiled Hand for a reason.”
When Falcrest straightened, brushing dirt off his sleeve, leading them back inside, his eyes caught Lory’s, and she could have sworn a hint of amusement was dancing there.
“For the next few weeks, you will be assigned tutors for stealth and stalking,” he announced, spearheading the group along the corridor back to the more familiar areas of the academy. “Together, you will conquer a set of skills that will help you survive this challenge. Dedicate enough time to your training, or regretting your life choices will be the last thing you do.”
“What do you know about my life choices?” Lory whispered to herself, staring holes into the back of Falcrest’s head. She wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for him—not that she’dat any point asked to be sent to this death factory of an academy; choosing this over a death sentence didn’t really count.
Falcrest’s head whipped around, gray eyes piercing right into Lory’s as he continued his speech.
“In two weeks’ time, you will show me where you stand”—he gave a dramatic pause, gaze raking over the students now so quiet Lory could make out the melody of the wind whistling around the corners of the pyramid. The only sound louder was her pounding heart as Falcrest’s eyes locked back on her.
“Get to the training grounds. You’ll find your tutors there—and don’t bother asking to switch groups. You won’t be able to choose who fights at your side when you stumble into an ambush, either.”
Sheathing his knife at his belt, the captain slipped through the ashlings who were now scrambling to get out of his way, his face set in a mask of cold indifference. When Lory stepped aside to let him pass, he paused for a heartbeat, lowering his head a few inches, and hissed at her so softly only she could hear, “You will regret your life choices, whether or not you plunge to your death in two weeks, ashling.”
Lory’s breath caught in her throat as he continued walking, disappearing into the black mouth that was the door into the innards of the pyramid.
Thal nudged her elbow, gesturing for her to start moving when the rest of the blues entered the corridor after Falcrest. Gnashing her teeth, she set into motion. Only when she glanced over her shoulder did she notice Frost was studyingher from a few feet away. He shot her a knowing look that unsettled Lory more than she cared to admit—the ashling with the power to freeze water had been as silent as Thal had been chatty, his vigilant eyes following the blue ashlings wherever they went. Lory had yet to decide whether he was picking a victim to turn into ice or if he was constantly scanning for danger. She sure as Eroth’s Veil wasn’t going to find out.
At the door, Lory filed in between Thal and Tabi, unease rising in her stomach at Falcrest’s obvious promise and the sense that Frost had already found someone to freeze over.
The tripdown to the training grounds was a five-minute walk through torch-lit hallways, down several steep sets of stairs, and into the yard where they did running and sparring. Where Falcrest had gone, Lory couldn’t tell, but she suspected he was still walking at the front of the group, his boots as soundless as ever and his form disappearing in the shadows between circles of orange glow.
Behind her, Tabi was discussing the merits of trying their luck at following Falcrest’s path without proper training, how many ashlings they expected to lose in two weeks when the test was due, and who they would be.
“Definitely not Ricca. She’s too quick on her feet and too coordinated. I’ve seen her dance in one of thegildedclasses,” Tabi claimed, reminding Lory that she hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting the Gilded Hand yet. Tabi and Jarekwere among the first few to be called to gilded classes, which they’d described in brief as a waste of time if you grew up in a privileged household, but a great refresher considering the positions they might take after graduation.
“Ricca’s mother is a dancer,” Jarek pointed out. “No wonder she’s a natural, even when she doesn’t come from a long line of ashmarked.”
Lory could hear Tabi’s nod in her voice as she described the benefits of having learned to walk and move in a skirt early in life. “Honestly, why are women the only ones expected to look graceful in one of those traps of silk and satin?”
In front of her, Thal gave a chuckle, his head turning sideways as he eyed Tabi in obvious assessment. “Not a fan of pretty clothes, then, Tabs?”
“Not unlessyouwear them.”
Lory grinned to herself. Between the two of them, she didn’t feel as alone as in the first days at Ashthorn, even when she couldn’t share all her secrets. Self-preservation remained the top priority, especially with people like Falcrest, Frost, and Ricca paying too close attention to her every step.
“Two gold coins says Brycon’s brains won’t help him once he sets out over the railing,” Thal threw over his shoulder.
Tabi met his challenge with a white-toothed grin, her braids bouncing around her head as she nodded. “Two coins, he’ll find a workaround where his lack of coordination will probably throw him to his death.”
