Page 168 of Ashborne: Defiance

Ten minutes into the formations, the second time Koa almost collided with the other wing because he was too slow to move off their line, I had had enough.

‘Koa, can you reach his dragon?’

‘Yes, Conn is kind.’

‘What is his name? If we don’t do something, he’s going to get us hurt. Or worse.’

It was a moment before she replied. ‘His name is Kennik. The Cock.’ I spluttered when she sent that word, but then the flickering image of a rooster, crowing to the morning sun had me swallowing giggles instead. ‘Thank you,’ I said, just as the officer on a dragon not far away called the next formation.

“Cleave!” he shouted.

I was relieved. The formation was supposed to make a wedge, dragons staggering height so they could fly tightly to fire or penetrate space against other dragons, giving them the smallest possible target from the forward position.

It didn’t require a turn or wheel, which had been the formations Kennik seemed to struggle with the most.

I urged Koa to edge closer, but drop slightly below Kennik’s dragon. When done correctly, the pivot “dragged” the wing, the air flow from the foremost dragon’s down-flap creating a current to the wing following—and if several dragons followed, each provided additional current to the one behind.

Unfortunately, in the precise moment I told Koa to move closer, but drop below Conn’s line, Kennik apparently ordered his dragon to also drop.

Koa screeched, and the blue male, Conn, screamed in return. Both dragons adjusted quickly, but Kennik cursed and shot me a glare over his right shoulder.

“It’s cleave! Not Phalanx!” I shouted at him. “Hold your line!”

“You hold yours! You follow me!”

‘Koa, can you ask Conn to tell Kennik he’s getting the formations wrong.’

‘He knows. But we are to listen. To show our Flameborne in their truth.’

It was another moment I wished I could spit a swear word like the men did so freely.

We’d been warned ahead of time that the dragons were instructed not to assist us, except to keep us from killing ourselves or each other. They were to take our instruction, and not correct us until or unless the maneuver became potentially dangerous. This was because the dragons were usually so in tune with each other, they could fly in formation without words or instructions. But they made formation to assist us in our endeavors—and the officers wanted to see that we knew the correct positions.

To add to Kennik’s apparent mistakes, Koa struggled with formation. Not because she couldn’t fly well, but because she wasn’t accustomed to using the herd link and flying in a coordinated fashion in specific positions. Wild dragons communicated with each other, but didn’t remain connected when they weren’t speaking. And, if they flew together, they kept enough space to react to each other’s movements safely. They reached out each time they wished to converse.

We’d hit some problems with this during training, and she was learning. But, she hadn’t flown with Conn before. She would learn him with time, but we had seconds, not hours.

This was becoming dangerous. And it wasn’t my fault.

Before I could figure out what to send to Kennik through the dragons, we approached the next officer hovering on the flight path, and another formation was called.

“Flameborne! Veil!”

Veil meant we had to drop, to fly just high enough over the tree canopy that a dragon couldn’t be seen from a distance by those on the ground. When that order was given in a squad, the pivots would spread wide, trailing the wings so each little cluster of dragons made a diamond shape, and numbers would be difficult to count from the ground.

I was supposed to follow Kennik down, then settle beside and behind. But Kennik didn’t drop.

As the other pair eased off to our left, descending, he held his line, looking back over his shoulder in their direction, his lips moving as if he muttered to himself.

“Descend! Off side! I’ll follow!” I screamed.

He shot me another dark look, but a heartbeat later, Conn tilted to the right and began to descend.

I caught the officer we passed watching and frowning, but what choice did I have?

For the next fifteen minutes, any time Kennik didn’t immediately respond to the instruction, I called his direction.

He glared at me more than once, eyes blazing, even shouted something at one point, but my ears thudded with my frantic pulse. I was terrified this man would cause me to fail my assessment, and if this was showing me anything, it was that I needed to be able to fly alone—and that Koa needed to be working more closely with the other dragons. Especially those in my squad, whom we’d fight alongside in battle.