There's a misconception that it's kill or be killed in the Riders Quadrant. Riders, as a whole, aren't out to assassinate other cadets...unless there's a shortage of dragons that year or a cadet is a liability to their wing. Then things may get...interesting.
—Major Afendra's Guide to the Riders Quadrant (Unauthorized Edition)
The hatred in Xaden's stare burned the side of my face like a palpable flame, and even the rain pelting my skin with each gust of wind didn't ease the heat - or the shiver of dread that jolted down my spine.
Dylan was dead.
He was just a name, another soon-to-be stone in the endless graveyards that lined the roads to Basgiath, another warning to the ambitious candidates who would rather change their lives with the riders than choose the security of any other quadrant.
Rhiannon gripped both sides of the opening in the turret, then looked over her shoulder at me. "I'll wait for you both on the other side," she shouted over the storm.
"I'll see you soon," I grinned at her.
She stepped out onto the parapet and began walking, and even though I'm sure his hands were full today, I sent up a silent prayer to Zihnal, the god of luck.
"Name?" the rider at the edge asked as his partner held a cloak over the scroll in a pointless attempt to keep the paper dry.
"Isla Melgren," I answered as thunder cracked above me.
With a quick glance, I saw Dylan's and Rhiannon's names already blurring at the end where water had met ink.
It was the last time Dylan's name would be written anywhere but his stone. There would be another roll at the end of the parapet so the scribes had their beloved statistics for casualties.
"Melgren?" The rider looked up, his eyebrows rising in surprise. "As in General Melgren?"
"The same." I looked back at Violet and we both rolled our eyes, knowing the reverence people paid to our last names was already getting old and would only get worse.
I placed my hands on either side of the turret and dragged my fingertips across the stone. It was still warm from the morning sun but rapidly cooling from the rain, slick but not slippery from moss growth or anything.
Ahead of me, Rhiannon was making her way across, her hands out for balance. She was almost a fourth of the way through, her figure becoming blurrier the farther she walked into the rain.
"I didn't know he had a daughter?" the other rider asked, angling the cloak as another gust of wind blew into us.
"I get that a lot." I forced my breathing to calm, and my heart rate to slow from its gallop.
I took the lone step up onto the parapet and gripped the stone wall as another gust hit, but it didn't knock me off.
"Name?" I turned around to see Violet answering and then stepping up on the parapet. She wavered slightly, teetering on the edge and I had to clench my fists to stop myself from reaching out for her.
"And you think you'll be able to ride?" the asshole candidate behind us mocked. "Some Sorrengail, with that kind of balance. I pity whatever wing you end up in." I satiated my need to punch him in the throat by imagining myself doing it instead in perfect clarity.
"Name?" the rider asked again.
"Jack Barlowe," the one behind us answered. "Remember the name. I'm going to be a wingleader one day." Even his voice reeked of arrogance. If he didn't die on Parapet, I was going to be the one to kill him.
"You'd better get going, Melgren," Xaden's deep voice ordered. I looked over my shoulder and saw him pinning me with a glare.
I turned around and eyed the path in front of me. And I closed my eyes and began walking, my strides at an even pace.
You had a higher chance of falling if you slowed down.
My training echoed in my head and I imagined myself to be on a balance beam and stretched my arms out to the side. I was only a few feet off the ground. Nothing would happen if I fell.
I leaned too far to my left, at one point, but at the same time, an incredibly strong gust of wind pushed me back up, helping to steady me.
I kept walking, counting the paces I had to take until I reached the end but then I paused at step one hundred and thirty-five and opened my eyes.
Rhiannon was only a few steps right ahead of me and she seemed to be struggling. I slowed my strides. I didn't want to pressure her into walking faster, lest she lose her balance and fall over, taking my left shoe with her. By the faint panting behind me, I knew Violet was quite a bit behind me, but still alive.
Thunder cracked behind me, and my heart dropped at a "Shit!"
I turned around to see Violet drop on the parapet, holding onto the edges and crouching.
If I helped her, she would only become more of a target. Everyone would assume she was weak and would only drag the squad down. But I still didn't move, and kept an eye on her until she straightened and resumed walking. I did the same.
I hummed under my breath, a long-lost melody to a song I no longer remembered. My eyes closed again and I settled into my pace.
"You're next, Sorrengail!" Jack bellowed. My eyes flew open and I turned to see him making his way toward her, a limp body falling into the chasm below.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what the awful crack had been moments ago. Not thunder but the snapping of a neck. And Violet was next.
I couldn't exactly get in between the two of them without making it obvious that Violet needed help. Or at least that I, someone who had been by her side practically since the moment she was born, thought she needed it.
I knew what I needed to do.
I turned to the side and stepped off the parapet into the chasm below.
My arms shot out at the last possible second and gripped the edge of the bridge. Violet screamed, almost running toward me.
"Isla!"
"I'm fine," I forced out, my muscles straining to hold on. I jerked my head toward Jack. "Go. I'll be fine."
She nodded, carefully stepping over my fingers, and continued her walk, muttering random historical facts to herself.
I tried to swing myself up but the rain was falling much faster now, and my left hand slid off the wood.
My breaths came in harsh pants as I started to panic.
Why the hell did I think getting myself into the same position Dylan died in only a few minutes ago was a good idea?
I reached up and grasped the ledge again, tightly, swinging my legs between the bridge and the rest of my body. For a moment, I dangled like that, my legs on the parapet, with the rest of my body hanging off before I swung my legs and used the momentum to pull my entire body up.
When I stood up, I smiled. I put myself between Jack and Violet without ever making it seem like she needed the help.
I breathed in and out loudly, counting to fifteen in my head, and once I felt calm enough, I started walking again. Jack's taunts moved further away as I kept pace with Violet.
He lunged for my pack and missed, his hand hitting my hip as we reached the edge.
I hurtled forward, jumping the twelve inches off the elevated parapet down to the courtyard, where two riders waited.
Jack roared in frustration, and the sound gripped my heaving chest like a vise.
Spinning, I ripped a dagger from its sheath at my ribs just as he skidded to a halt above me on the parapet, his breath choppy and his face ruddy.
Murder was etched in his narrowed, glacial blue eyes as he glared down at me. And where the tip of my dagger indented the fabric of his breeches - against his balls.
"I think. I'll be safe. For right. Now," I managed between ragged breaths, my muscles trembling with exertion but my hand more than steady.
"Will you?" Jack vibrated with rage, his thick blond brows slashing down over arctic blue eyes, every line of his monstrous frame leaning my way. But he didn't take another step.
"It is unlawful for a rider to cause another harm. While in a quadrant formation or in the supervisory. Presence of a superior-ranking cadet," Violet recited from the Codex, standing behind me. "As it will diminish the efficacy of the wing. And given the crowd behind us, I think it's clear to argue that it's a formation. Article Three, Section-"
"I don't give a shit!" He moved, but I held my ground, and my dagger sliced through the first layer of his breeches.
"I suggest you reconsider." I adjusted my stance just in case he didn't. "I might slip."
"Name?" the rider next to me drawled, as if we were the least interesting thing she had seen today. I glanced in her direction for a millisecond. She pushed the chin-length, light blonde strands of her hair, behind her ear with one hand and held the roll with the other, watching the scene play out. The three silver four-point stars embroidered on the shoulder of her cloak told me she was a third-year.
"Isla Melgren, pleasure," I answered, smiling at her pleasantly, although my body was tense and ready for a fight. The rain dripped off the lowered ridge of her brow. "And before you ask, yes, I'm that Melgren."
"Not surprised, with that maneuver," the woman said. "And what's your name?"
She looked toward Jack and I followed her gaze and studied my opponent. Sure enough, his eyes darted to her and he responded, "Jack. Barlowe."
There was no sinister little smile on his lips or playful taunts about how he would enjoy killing me now. There was nothing but pure malice in his features, promising retribution.
I smirked at him.
Let him try.
"Well, Jack," the male rider on my right said slowly, scratching the trim lines of his dark goatee. He was not wearing a cloak and the rain soaks into the bevy of patches stitched into a worn leather jacket. "Cadet Melgren has you by the actual balls here, in more ways than one. She's right. Regs state that there's nothing but respect among Riders at formation. You want to kill her, you'll have to do it in the sparring ring or on your own time. That is, if she decides to let you off the parapet. Because technically, you're not on the grounds yet, so you are not a cadet. She is."
"And if I decide to snap her neck the second I step down?" Jack growled, and the look in his eyes said he'd do it. I grinned again, the smile a barely conceivable threat.
"Then you get to meet the dragons early," the blonde answered, her tone bland. "We don't wait for trials around here. We just execute."
"What's it gonna be, Melgren?" the male rider asked, "You going to have Jack here start as a eunuch?"
I shrugged, clicking my tongue as I shook my head as though I was still in thought. "Tempting, tempting." I pursed my lips, eyes locking on his malicious gaze, "Are you going to follow the rules?" I asked him, raising my brows. "Or are you going to try your hand at killing me and idiotically get yourself killed?"
"Guess I don't have a choice." he sneered, and he raised his hands in surrender.
"You see, that didn't sound very convincing." I tsked.
"What do you want me to do? Swear a blood oath?" He hissed, temper flaring just as I had intended.
"Are you offering?"
Jack's jaw clenched so hard it seemed painful. And when he spoke, he did so through a closed jaw, "I'll obey the damn rules."
I shrugged easily, and pulled the dagger back, though I kept it palmed and ready as I stepped back.
Jack got down from the small stair and stepped into the courtyard, his shoulder knocking mine as he walked by, pausing to lean in close.
"You're dead, Melgren. And I'm gonna be the one to kill you."
I merely patted him on the shoulder with a condescending smirk, "I look forward to it. I'd like to see you try."