Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 206625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 827(@250wpm)___ 689(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 827(@250wpm)___ 689(@300wpm)
Tairn chuffs in agreement as we approach.
“And what is Sgaeyl learning?” I ask, eyeing the giant blue dragon.
Xaden grins. “She’s been leading for almost three years now. She’s going to have to learn how to follow. Or at least practice.”
Tairn’s chuff sounds suspiciously like a laugh, and she snaps at him, baring her teeth and coming within inches of his neck.
“Dragon relationships are absolutely incomprehensible,” I murmur.
“Yeah? You should try a human one sometime. Just as vicious, but less fire.” He mounts with an ease I envy. “Now let’s go.”
The Squad Battle is more important than the wingleaders will let on. They like to joke that it’s a game, that it’s just bragging rights for the squad leaders and the winning squad, but it’s not. They’re all watching. The commandant, the professors, the commanding officers—they’re watching to see who will rise to the top. They’re salivating to see who will fall.
—Page seventy-seven, the Book of Brennan
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
“Tap out!” Rhiannon screams as a rider out of Second Wing fights to drag himself forward on the mat, his hands splayed wide, his fingernails digging in as Liam holds him in a leg lock, forcing his back into what should be an impossible arch.
My heart pounds as the excitement of today’s matches reaches a fever pitch.
It’s the last challenge of this portion of the Squad Battle, and the crowd pushes at our backs, forcing me to continuously struggle not to fall over onto the mat. After two events, we’re in seventh out of twenty-four on the leaderboard, but if Liam wins, we’ll jump to third.
My flight time in the gauntlet sky race was the slowest in squad, but that’s because I kept forcing Tairn to release his magical hold on me—and then we’d lose precious seconds while he had to dip to catch me and toss me back in the saddle. Over and over and over again. I swear, the bruises on my ass from landing in the hard divot hurt less than Tairn’s scoff that I’d humiliated his entire family line as we crossed the finish line last.
Mikael cries out in pain, the sound sharp, near earsplitting, and pulling my attention back to the action in front of me. Liam holds fast and presses his advantage.
“Fuck me, that looks like it hurts,” I mutter over the cheering first-years.
“Yeah, he’s not walking for a while,” Ridoc agrees, cringing as the arc of Mikael’s back looks like a broken spine waiting to happen.
With another cry, Mikael slams his palm into the mat three times, and the crowd roars.
“Yes! Go, Liam!” Sawyer screams from behind me, and Liam drops Mikael to the mat, where he sprawls out, exhausted.
“We won!” Liam rushes for us, and I’m swept up into a tangle of arms and shouting and joyous squadmates.
I’m pretty sure I even see Imogen in this little melee.
But I don’t see Dain. Where the hell is Dain? He would never miss this.
“Your winner!” Professor Emetterio shouts, his voice ringing through the gym and quieting the zealous energy as Liam steps out of our crushing hug. “Liam Mairi from Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing!”
Liam puts up both hands in victory and turns in a small circle, and the sound of cheering makes my ears ring in the best way.
Commandant Panchek steps onto the mat, and Liam joins the rest of our squad, sweat pouring off his skin. “I know you were all expecting the last portion of the Squad Battle to happen tomorrow, but the cadre and I have a surprise.”
He has every single rider’s attention now.
“Instead of telling you what the final, unknown task will be and giving you tonight to plan for it, your final task will begin this hour!” He grins, throwing out his hands and turning just like Liam had.
“Tonight?” Ridoc whispers.
My stomach hits the ground. “Dain isn’t here. Neither is Cianna.”
“Oh shit,” Imogen whispers, looking over the crowd herself.
“As you may have noticed, your squad leaders and their executive officers have been…shall we say, sequestered with your section leaders and wingleaders, and no, before someone asks, your task is not to find them.” He continues to walk in a small circle, addressing each side of the mat. “You are to break into your squads and accomplish a unique mission this evening without the leadership and instruction of your squad leaders.”
“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of having squad leaders?” someone asks across the mat.
“The purpose of a squad leader is to form a tightly knit unit that can carry on with a mission after their demise. Consider your leaders…demised.” Panchek shrugs with a gleeful smile. “You’re on your own, riders. Your mission is simple: find and acquire, by any means necessary, the one thing that would be most advantageous to our enemies regarding the war effort. Leadership will serve as unbiased judges, and the winning squad will be awarded sixty points.”