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The warm mug of tea swirls in my hand. It's the only way I sleep well now. Does everyone struggle this much to get their first years to threshing? The last challenge is in two days. Statistically, my squad is the standout - nine first years, no one lost since parapet. Even the weakest are making their way, but It's not them that are the hardest to keep alive. I lay the last lines of my report down. By my pocketwatch, I have enough time to drop this off at the leadership office before I make my nightly walk to the gym. As night creeps earlier, I wonder if I should start making the walk there as well. Riorson's advantage only grows with the approaching winter.
“Do not forget the strange flower has thorns”
I bristle indignantly at the nickname Cath’s given her. It's intimate in a way that gets under my skin, sure, she's pretty, but a flower? He should have picked up from my years of etymology that Ava’s name comes from birds, not botany. And she’s not strange. Or thorned. She's no more dangerous than the rest of the year. Statistically less so, based on current challenge rankings. I have no idea what he's on about - if he's evaluating her future as a rider, then I'm sure at least the other dragons will consider her at presentation. The problem is getting her - getting them all there.
I had a plan. I had everything worked out. Stay in Second Wing as a squad leader, get as many as I can to Threshing, maybe earn Iron Squad, make as many excuses as I could to be the one to ferry communications to the scribe quadrant - It's not like anyone else in leadership cared for the strategic reports I excelled in - and see Violet. I'd promised
And then a first year had stumbled off the parapet looking for me - rain soaked and shaking from cold and terror of watching my best friend die. I hadn't believed her until I saw the memory - she had to be lying, a test from my father or someone else determined to test my mettle, as if I hadn't had to prove myself enough first year. A non combat signet had been tough enough, fighting my way up the ranks by grades and hand to hand alone. I'd thought my father would be disappointed in the near-intinnsic ability I'd manifested uselessly. He had only smiled, the first approval I'd seen in years.
"Knowledge, and not brute strength, is the most powerful weapon in this world." He'd told me.
My world had shifted in that moment. I could extract exact details of any encounter for Vi's records. How many times had she thrown her legs across mine and bemoaned conflicting firsthand accounts?
The only time I'd been able to use my power for Violet was to relive her death through the eyes of another frightened first year.
The memory rises unbidden to break my thoughts, soft and choking. The pen slips from my hand. “She loved you.” Ava had told me that, too. I didn’t deserve it, not when there was nothing I could do to save her. Not when I had to hear those words from another women instead of Violet’s own lips.
“Do not lose yourself in memories that aren’t your own.” Cath reminds me. A deep breath out and I’m centered again. I can’t control the past, but I can look out for her tonight.
It’s the least I can do, It’s all I can do when my direct superior tries to torture her any chance he can get. He hasn’t even broken the Codex. The Wingleader's word is law.
“I’m sorry, son. Find something actionable and I’ll do what I can.” My father had said, the understanding taking me by surprise. Find something actionable. But what? Even with my connections, the insane amount of power Cath channels, it's never enough. Not when I can't use it to save anyone. I map out every course of action I can take to get my squad to Threshing intact.
It's still no use, my plans shattering alongside the lock on my door. There's no time for a warning masked riders with no identifying marks burst into my room. I expect the rebels at first, my body snapping into action. The first goes down, his ribs broken before the rest take me to the cold stone floor.
"Fuck, he's got fight." One of them says. The voice floats up through memories that aren't mine and I recognize it as a senior intelligence officer. Shit, interrogation I realize as Cath's roar echoes through my head. The leading cause of death for second years. I need to survive. Even if Cianna, Imogen, and the others break, I have to make it out. My first years need to live. She needs to live.
I go lax under their grasp as they hoist me to my feet. Fighting won't help me, but it could help them, help her.
"Looks like the Colonel's son does know his place." A deeper voice taunts, loosening his grip and lowering his guard.
His wrist snaps with a howl as I twist free, landing pressure in the right place. There's no time as I surge forward desperately for my desk, trying for my pen. If I can even leave one last message for Heaton-
It's not enough, a kick to my abdomen taking the wind from me as my head cracks on the stone.
"Fucker snapped my wrist." A man's voice echoes.
"I told you not to underestimate him. He's Aetos' son. Too slippery for his own good."
"This is for making me go get mended." Another heavy kick to my side turns my breath to gasping, each breath painful.
It's never enough. Tea drips across papers, the mug shattered on the floor. I said I'd leave someone to look out for her, but I can do nothing, stumbling down the dark hall. I try to keep my head up in case Riorson's somehow encased himself in the shadows to watch. He'll have free reign to terrorize my squad while I'm gone. There's nothing I can do. Another broken promise, and almost certainly, the first name on the death roll. I swallow down bile.
"Your seat of honor." One of the riders mocks, shoving me into the metal chair at the center of the room. Of course it's me. I'm the squad leader. They'll want to make an example. Imogen and Cianna are shackled to the wall, hatred searing me from poison green eyes, fear and determination from brown.
"If I die down in this shithole because of you, Aetos-" Imogen spits at me as soon as her gag is removed.
"No one down here is going to die on my account." I tell them both. I won't break.
"They all say that." A new voice drawls as a new rider enters the cell, a long blunt metal instrument in his hand.
“block me out, Cath” I warn
“I do not choose cowards, nor am I on” He growls. “should they go too far, I will sink my teeth into the wings of their dragons”
If I hadn't fought we'd stand a better chance of escaping - should I have made a different choice? Can I still get a message to-
“Cath, can you-“
“Fool! Focus on your own survival”
The first blow lands where bruises are already blackening and I feel some deep, disquieting warmth beneath my skin. Something’s ruptured, not just broken. The pain builds as I keep count of seconds, minutes. Just when my vision starts to blur at the edges, when I think they'll actually let me die, the mender comes bringing pain worse than the injury. My count of seconds and minutes fails. There's no change in the magelights illuminating the cell even as my body tells me it’s past midnight.
"It's a miracle none of you have folded already." the callous voice of a woman cuts through, the female rider that joined us sometime in the last hours taunting Imogen with a single finger traced through the grime on her cheek.
"The son of a man who quashed the rebellion, and one of its leaders' children in the same squad. How fun. Come on Cardulo, give us something about him and we'll let your arms down for a rest-"
"Fuck you!" Imogen tries to bite the woman's hand. She earns more blood dripping from her mouth as punishment, a sharp crack across her face echoing through the small chamber.
"And you-" The senior rider crosses the room to kneel next to me, voice a whisper "Couldn't even keep your promise to your best friend, could you? I wonder how your first years are doing. Just one little bit of information, Aetos, and you can stop this. It can even be about her-" She gestures over her shoulder "What do you say? You and your executive officer give me the pink chit's code word, and I'll let you both free early. We can even say it was her that broke - getting rid of a traitor would be my pleasure.”
It's a lie, a trick. Just another way to break the squad, I remind myself, but the words still work deep into me. Imogen's eyes sharpen in defiance as if she knows I'm being offered a deal for her life. I barely made it last time. If we’d managed to escape, if we got out early, maybe I’d be in time to save-
"No." I rasp as firmly as I can.
“I would not choose a dishonorable rider” Cath's pride makes it through the muddle of pain. I think it's Cath - the line between hallucination and reality blurred hours ago. No, it has to be Cath. I’ve seen the ghost of my father twice already, but he’d never tell me he’s proud of me. I haven’t earned those words yet, but I will.
"Suit yourself." The woman says. "You won't have a perfect record as a squad leader after this weekend either way. Maybe tomorrow I’ll read you the death roll as a little treat."
Something dies inside me, the last bit of warmth. I failed Violet, and now I've failed Ava, too. It's another lie I tell myself. Just something else to break me. She's alive. She can't be gone. it's a lie. it's a lie. It has to be a lie.