CHAPTER THREE
Connie swallowed away her nerves as she headed for the Society Headquarters. She knew she shouldn't be so afraid—it had been her idea to be monitored after the Leviathan had almost severed her powers the previous year—and yet since it was her first examination, she had no idea what to expect. The Trustees had been summoned especially. No doubt they were reading over her descriptions, preparing themselves for her upcoming display.
Connie entered the atrium of the Society building and waited beneath her compass symbol. Gard was due to meet her here, before escorting her to the chosen site for her examination. It was quiet for the moment, so Connie ran through her three skills in her head.
Her newest combat skill was the gauntlets, which allowed her to access the raw elemental power that every mythical creature possessed at their core. She had practiced with Argand, and could wield fireballs, although it was very draining. If she used it for more than a few minutes, she'd weaken considerably. Considering the various powers of the mythical creatures, the potential for this skill was endless, though it would need a lot of endurance training before it could help in a fight.
Her defence skill had been even trickier to master, and she hoped it wouldn't fail. It was a stronger version of her shield, which could protect several people if they were gathered around her. The only problem was that she needed to call upon it at the exact time an attack would strike, since it took too much of her power to keep sustained for long, hence its use was limited.
Before Connie could think about her last skill, a flurry of footsteps rushed from the library entrance. Society students poured out of the examination hall and scampered towards the café. She caught sight of a familiar face, and waved until Col saw her.
"How'd it go?" she asked, shuffling through the throngs to reach his side.
"Crap," Col said, his eyes forlorn. "I daydreamed after the second question and ran out of time."
"Aw, I'm sure you'll be okay," Connie said. "Besides, you'll ace the practical."
"Should do," Col smirked. "What about you?"
"Oh, I'm still waiting to start."
"You'll be fine." Col gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Anyway, I've got to go get ready. The practical's in three hours and it's in Epping Forest this year. Later!" And he was gone.
Connie sighed, when a stony presence appeared behind her.
"Are you ready, Universal?" Gard asked, his craggy features smiling. Connie nodded. "Then follow me." Connie went after the rock dwarf, steeling her nerves. It was time to test out her skills.
Col sat on Skylark's back, tense for the upcoming practical. They were in the middle of Epping Forest, along with Captain Graves and his proud steed, Firewings. Though Col should have been looking forward to this, he could hardly concentrate. He was still ruminating about the train wreck that was his written exam.
"Never mind that now," Skylark said, in an effort to bolster his companion's confidence. "We must do our best."
"Yeah." Col stroked Skylark's mane.
"The examination of Grade 6 Pegasus Flight for candidate 0754 will begin now," Captain Graves announced formally. Col stood up straighter—that was his number. "On my whistle, you are to navigate your pegasus in a safe and co-ordinated manner about this area of Epping Forest, and retrieve the flag placed at the end of the course. You are then to defend the flag from myself and three other pegasus riders for a duration of ten minutes. The longer you hold the flag, the better your mark will be. The time limit will begin the moment you hold the flag in your grasp. The current record is eight minutes and fifty-two seconds. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir," Col nodded, gripping Skylark's mane. He was disappointed at the format this year, for he'd been hoping he would get the chance to show off some new moves. Of course, there was the possibility that he would need his new battle tactics to defend his flag. Then again, attacking his examiners with the Spartan somersault would probably not do well for his overall score…
Captain Graves blew his whistle, and Skylark was off at once, jolting Col from his thoughts.
"Companion, what is wrong?" the pegasus asked as he rose above the trees.
"Nothing, let's do this!" Col said, crouching against his companion's neck.
They flew across the forest, heading towards the flag. With the wind in his face and the scent of nature filling his nostrils, Col's worries faded. All that mattered was what was going on right now, this instant; past and future could be cast aside. He was confident they were going to set a record.
The orange flag had been planted in a clearing flanked by thorny bushes. Skylark landed beside the shrubs, snorting. He trotted forward, and Col took the bright fabric in his hand.
"Easy," he muttered. "Alright, let's…"
Before he could finish, there was a neigh from his left, and out rode a woman on a white pegasus mare.
"Skylark, up!" Col commanded. Skylark flapped his wings and rose a short way, allowing the white pegasus to gallop beneath him. Skylark then landed, before he wheeled round and cantered in the opposite direction, needing a run up to attain proper height.
Col had just breached the tree canopy when Firewings burst from the foliage. Captain Graves had his arm outstretched, ready to snatch the flag.
"Skylark, Athenian dive!" Col ordered, but then a sudden pain burst through his temple. He held his head, and lost his grip as Skylark performed the manoeuvre. The pegasus shot downward, and Col tumbled from his back.
Col landed on his hands, and the muscles screamed in his left arm. Skylark neighed in panic at the loss of his rider and collided into a tree, grazing his knees.
"Abort the examination!" Captain Graves shouted, blowing his whistle in three shrill blasts, before he landed Firewings beside the injured party. "Col, are you alright?"
Col could not speak. He was shaking. He'd barely had the flag for a minute and a half. This was a disaster. Along with his written mess, he was going to fail. He vaguely heard Captain Graves talking to his colleague, about how this was 'most unusual' and 'not at all like Col'.
"Col, please go with Elena and Feathertail," the Captain said, kneeling by Col's side. "They will tend to yours and Skylark's injuries. The examination is over." Col's nausea deepened as he heard the sympathy in his mentor's tone.
How could this have happened?
With his left arm wrapped in a bandage—he was lucky to have only sprained it—Col sat beside Rat in the library café as they waited for Connie. His face was ashen, and he had not touched his Coke.
"Cheer up," Rat said, munching on a packet of sweets. "I didn't do that great with Icefen either. Got a bit carried away with the forget breath. Made Erik laugh, but Svend didn't look too pleased."
"You don't understand," Col sighed, his head sinking into his arms. "Me and Skylark were perfect last week! And I've never fallen off him, ever."
"The stakes are a bit higher when you're being chased by a Leviathan," Rat said, though Col didn't find it funny. "I'm sure they'll take that performance into consideration. I mean come on, it's just an exam, right? It's not what you've done on paper but out in the field which counts."
Col ignored Rat's words, and continued to brood. Everything had gone so stupendously wrong, and there was nothing he could do to change it. He hated feeling so powerless and weak.
"Oh look, Connie's back," Rat said, tossing another sweet into his mouth. Col lifted his head from the café table, and could not help but feel swamped with bitterness. She was grinning like a maniac.
"Hi guys," Connie chimed, plonking herself next to Col.
"How was it?" Rat asked, tossing her a sweet. Connie caught it, unable to suppress her excitement.
"It was great!" she said. "They really liked the barrier shield, said it would be very useful in a combat situation."
"Like you need tips on combat," Rat snorted. "You've already thrashed a shape shifter and a Leviathan. Nothing can faze you, Connie Lionheart."
"Stop it," Connie chucked, playfully bashing Rat's arm.
Then she noticed Col's sombre expression, and the bandage on his wrist. Her mood plummeted like a selkie that had forgotten how to swim.
"Col! What happened to you?"
"It was a catastrophe!" Col blurted, angered by Connie's smugness. "While you were showing off to the Trustees, I fell off Skylark!"
"Oh no!" Connie gasped. "Is Skylark alright?"
"Yeah he's okay, just scraped his knees," Col grumbled. "But a lot of good it does. I've failed."
"You don't know that yet," Connie said, reaching for his hand. She was somewhat hurt when Col tugged his hand away.
"Well, it's been a long day," Rat said, giving an exaggerated stretch. "It's almost five o'clock. Isn't our train leaving soon?"
Glad for Rat's intervention, Connie stood up. The sooner they got home, the sooner Col could put all this behind him. She led the way out of the café. As they entered the foyer, they ran into Jessica and Horace.
"Oh, Connie!" Jessica embraced her friend. "And Col, Rat. How did everything go?"
"Well enough," Rat said. Col humphed and folded his arms. "We're going to catch the train home now."
"Ah, then we're on the same one, I believe," Horace deduced. "Let's go together."
The train was already waiting at the platform when they arrived. Shortly, the group were sitting at the table seats, where two passengers had kindly swapped with Rat and Connie so they could be together. Rat and Jessica were discussing their exam experiences, while Col sulked by the window. Connie, seated opposite, attempted to cheer him up, but he remained stoical, and so she watched the scenery.
However, the blur of trees, cloud and sky could not distract her from her worry. No doubt Col was in a terrible state, still shaken up by Mrs. Clamworthy's fall, and now his confidence in his flying had been shattered, too. Worse, he was closing himself off. Though I'm one to talk, Connie thought, remembering her own problems when she had tried to deal with her storm-raising. If that experience had taught her one thing, it was that avoiding people who could help would only make everything worse…
A sharp neigh broke Connie from her musings and she sat bolt upright. Col's eyes flicked towards her, though he soon returned to staring at the table. Connie calmed herself with a deep breath, and then slipped into her mental realm. Someone was trying to contact her.
She opened her link, and was surprised as Skylark appeared.
"Universal," he said, his voice troubled. Connie could see the scrapes on his knees on his projection in her silver ocean, and her heart reached out to him. "I have a favour to ask."
"What is it?" Connie felt the depths of the pegasus' upset, and wished she could comfort him.
"Col…Col seems to have closed his connection to me," Skylark said, trembling. "Since our fall, I have been unable to reach him. I want to talk with him. I know that you experienced lost bonds with the Leviathan, so I hoped that you could help me?"
Connie was silent. Her anxiety for Col had just tripled.
"That was a bit different," she said at last, struggling to keep her composure. "The Leviathan wasn't blocking my bonds, he was breaking them. But you don't need to be so formal, Skylark. I'll help you, no matter what."
"Thank you," Skylark's voice was growing faint—he was moving out of range. "I have an idea as to what might have caused this. I will meet you when my treatment is completed, and I will take you to…" The rest of his words were lost as the train entered a tunnel.
Connie opened her eyes, and sighed. She looked to Col, who continued to ignore her. She glanced to his bandaged wrist, then his furrowed brow. Just what had gone wrong between him and Skylark?
The following weekend, Connie crept out of Shaker Row early, wearing her flight suit. She had given a fleeting check on Col, who was curled up on the parlour sofa, snoring away. An ugly tightness in her stomach reflected how she hated seeing Skylark without him, but he had hardly spoken to her all week. He appeared normal enough at school, yet the façade vanished the moment he set foot in the house. Gone were his usual smiles and jokes; instead they had been replaced by bitter glares and muttered remarks. It was becoming unbearable, and so Connie was hopeful that Skylark would help sort out his moodiness. She wanted the old Col back.
She walked to the beach caves, and a warm presence graced her mind. She stopped, smiling.
"Hello, Sentinel," she called out, stepping towards his cavernous abode.
"Universal!"
Sentinel's great horned head emerged from the shadows, and Connie sensed his delight.
"It is good to see you," Sentinel said. "Did our training bear fruit in your trial?"
"Yes," Connie said, bowing her head to the beast. "Thanks for the regime, it really paid off." Sentinel gave a triumphant snort.
"Are you going to meet your dragon companion?" he asked. Connie shook her head.
"I'm meeting Skylark," she explained. "Something happened between him and his companion Col, which is disrupting their bond."
Sentinel's nostrils twitched.
"That is sad," he remarked. "It is noble of you to help them."
"Col's my…best friend," Connie sighed. At the moment, it felt too awkward to say they were anything more. "He's had a rough time lately. I hope I can help him before…"
"Before what?"
"I don't know," Connie shrugged. "I have a bad feeling, that's all."
"Then I wish you all the luck you need," Sentinel said, crossing his arm over his chest. "Please, do not hesitate to call upon me if you require aid."
"I know, Sentinel. Thank you."
Connie passed the minotaur's home and headed across the rows of caves, towards an area sheltered on most sides by the cliffs. She sat on a rock, enjoying the sea breeze, until she heard Skylark's call. The covelet was too narrow for the pegasus to land, and so she wandered towards the beach side. Skylark fluttered down from the misty cliffs, although he landed a little clumsily.
"Skylark!" Connie rushed to his side. She hugged his neck, and his sadness almost overwhelmed her. They spent a moment in close contact, before Connie pulled back. Col should be doing this, she thought. Skylark seemed to share her sentiment, and let out a pitiful neigh.
"I thank you," the pegasus said, pressing his nose into Connie's hand. "Firewings does not wish to listen to my concerns. You are all I have to turn to."
"I'm sorry you feel like that," Connie answered. "I'll do whatever I can. So, what did you want to show me?"
"You will see," Skylark replied. "Come."
Connie hesitated. She had never been on a pegasus alone before, and her fear of heights, though tempered by her shape-changing experiences, was not far from her mind.
"I will keep you safe," Skylark promised, lowering his hindquarters. "Hold on to my mane, and do not look down."
"Right." Connie swallowed, crawling onto the creature's back.
Once she was stable, Skylark took some baby steps, to let her get used to his gait. Then he bounded forward and took off into the cold morning air. It was cloudy, and so they were able to take cover and stop any morning walkers below catching sight of them. Connie gripped Skylark's mane, wondering what the pegasus was planning.
At last Skylark descended. Connie gritted her teeth, her heart in her throat, then let out a sigh of relief as the pegasus glided to a halt behind the Devil's Tooth. There, she noticed the roped area that marked out the Celtic burial ground.
"What's so special about this place?" she asked, dismounting. Skylark snorted, and the steam rose in gentle wisps around his nostrils.
"That sword," he said, jerking his head towards the iron blade in the rocks. Connie frowned.
"What about it?"
"It glowed strangely when Col touched it," Skylark answered. "And since then I have felt less and less connected to him."
Connie stepped over the rope barrier, towards the sword. Tentatively, she brushed its edge with a finger. Nothing happened.
"Seems ordinary to me," she said. She tried to pull it free, but it was stuck fast. She rested her fingertip against the hilt, and this time a faint voice caught her hearing. She paused, closing her eyes to listen.
"What is it, Universal?"
"Hush, I can hear something."
It sounded like singing, in a language Connie was not familiar with. The voice was beautiful, soaring and climbing like a pegasus in the open air, and somehow Connie knew it was a woman who sang. She listened for several minutes, until the melody began to repeat.
"Hmm." Connie removed her finger, and the singing stopped. "Weird. I have no idea what to make of this."
Skylark's ears dropped.
"Don't worry," Connie said, running her hand across his broad back. "We'll get to the bottom of this. I'll see if I can find anything more about the sword, and we'll take it from there."
Agreed on their plan, they returned to the beach caves. After saying their farewells, Connie trudged back home. She glanced at her watch. It was nine o'clock—Shaker Row would be fully awake. Oddly though, when she opened the door and kicked off her boots, she found the house quiet. Still, that wasn't a bad thing; she would be able to change, and nobody would be any the wiser about her impromptu flying session.
She wandered up the stairs, then opened the door to her room. However, it was not as empty as she'd left it.
Col was sitting on her bed, dressed in jeans and a black shirt. His expression would have melted stone.
"You went out with Skylark, didn't you?" he said, his mismatched eyes piercing.
Connie was thrown into a stunned silence. She had not wanted Col to find out about her excursion with Skylark like this. Keep it together, she warned herself.
"I did," she said, her gaze level. "You've always said I can see him if I needed to."
"Not without me!" Col roared, rising to his feet. He slammed his fist against the desk, shaking the stacked papers. "How dare you…swindling on with MY companion, WITHOUT even asking me! You think you're so special, that as a universal you can just go out and nab any creature you want…"
"Col, what the hell's gotten into you?" Connie exclaimed. The week's pent up frustrations were reaching boiling point, and she was not going to take any more of this. "I didn't go with Skylark for fun! He's worried about you. He told me that your connection's…"
"It has NOTHING to do with you, so stay out of it!" Col shouted. "If you go near Skylark again…"
"I'll go wherever I please!" Connie shot back. "Skylark asked me to come to him because he's not ashamed to ask for help. Col, you're doing just what I did before! You mustn't…"
"I don't need your help!" Col growled. His brow narrowed. "You can't help but stick your nose into everyone else's business. Yet when you didn't say anything after you almost killed me on the hillside, that was fine, wasn't it?!"
Connie couldn't answer, for she knew it was true.
"Now stay out of my way," Col spat, "and don't you ever go near Skylark again." He shoved past her and thundered down the stairs. The door slammed shortly after. Connie stared after him, her heart aching, and her hands trembling. She had never thought Col capable of such rage.
"Connie?" Evelyn's voice came from the kitchen. "Where did you go this morning? Is everything alright?"
"I'm fine, I'll tell you later," Connie said, trying to sound casual. She didn't need to get everyone else involved. Something was happening to Col, and for all her power, there was nothing she could do to stop it. It was painful to have such a wedge driven between them, and yet Skylark's desperation told Connie that action needed taking. It was unhealthy—and positively dangerous—for the companions to be split apart like this. As universal, it was her duty to help all creatures who suffered so.
And it was her duty as a friend to help Col.