Threshing Day (The Empyrean, #3.5) — Chapter no 5

632 AU Cath—Red Swordtail (Male) Descended from the Berradhdyr Line

Estimated Age: 89 Recorded Riders: 2

—THE COMPENDIUM OF DRAGONKIND, LAST UPDATED BY COLONEL VALIN KAORI

DAIN

“The only other words I have to offer you are ‘good luck.’” Kaori takes a long look at us, and I have a sinking feeling that he’s trying to memorize our faces so he can project them later if needed. Then he nods to himself and walks off toward the right, vanishing among the trees that lead up the hill from the bowl-shaped valley that will entomb some of us.

Being the last professor to see us all alive—the professor responsible for preparing us for such a deadly day—must be a tiresome burden to bear.

The squads around me break up, some heading directly into the woods while others hang back to say goodbye to their friends.

“Want to go in together?” Cianna asks, tying up her blond curls behind her head as she turns toward me. Out of everyone in our squad, she’s the one I get along with best.

“We’re supposed to go in by ourselves.” I ignore the impulse to give in to the fear that has me in a choke hold. It would be nice, comforting even, to have a friend out there, but dragons prefer to see if a rider can stand on their own.

“I heard some of the squads in Fourth Wing are planning a team approach.” She glances to the right, where Fourth Wing seems to be forming smaller groups.

“Only the ones who like to push the boundaries of the rules.” Aura glances sideways at me. “I bet you’re glad you didn’t get put into Xaden Riorson’s squad. Rumor is that guy’s got it out for you.”

“Just because Dain’s dad is General Sorrengail’s aide,” Cianna says, like that somehow makes it better. “And…you know. He helped her hunt down Fen Riorson for execution.”

“Bet he’d love to challenge you.” Aura cocks her head to the side and studies me.

“Yeah, well, his dad killed my best friend’s older brother during that pointless rebellion, so trust me, the feeling’s mutual.” I’ve been checking around dark corners for Xaden Riorson from the moment I crossed the parapet. First, because the arrogant asshole wields shadows of all things, and second, because his desire for my death isn’t exactly a secret, though he hasn’t come after me. Thank gods Violet is headed into the Scribe Quadrant next year, because Riorson would probably break every rule in the Codex to kill her.

I just need to hope Riorson isn’t going to use Threshing as an excuse to kill me.

“Cadet Aetos!” Dad’s voice booms from behind us, and I lock my jaw to keep from visibly cringing.

I love my father. He’s the epitome of what a rider should be: loyal, steadfast, and regimented. He’s everything I want to be in a few years, and making him proud is my first and foremost objective in the quadrant. But

how the hell am I supposed to stand on my own if he doesn’t stop hovering?

“Daddy’s calling.” Aura smirks and my face heats. “Maybe his dragon could bond you, too, and then you’d always be together!” Her shrill laugh grates on my last nerve as she walks off toward the trees.

“Good luck.” Cianna smacks me on the shoulder and smiles reassuringly. “See you on the flight field.”

“You too.” I take a deep breath, prepare myself for the list of how I’ve undoubtably disappointed him recently, then turn to face my fate.

Dad waits with his arms folded about fifteen feet away at the base of the hill, which means there’s a good chance he’s heard everything we just said.

He has an uncanny ability to hear everything I don’t want him to and nothing I need him to. Then again, he hasn’t listened to anything I’ve had to say since Mom took off while we were stationed in Luceras. Considering Dad swears it was because Mom inferred he wasn’t capable of protecting her with the Tyrs rebelling, I give him a little grace for smothering me.

But he has to stop. The other cadets are noticing, and not only does it embarrass the shit out of me, it might hurt my chances at entering leadership.

“Dad.” I lift my hand in greeting, then head his way.

“Dad?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Sir,” I quickly correct.

Already disappointing him and the conversation hasn’t even started yet.

“I’d think you’d be happier to see me, Dain,” he lectures once I close the distance between us.

“I saw you last week. When you sat in on Battle Brief. Exactly five chairs down from me.” I cross my arms in front of my chest, more than aware of our resemblance. We have the same brown eyes, same build, same brown hair, and even the same mannerisms. Maybe that’s why Mom left me behind, because I’m a reminder of him. That doesn’t explain why she stopped writing to me last year, though. I have a feeling that has to do with my decision to volunteer for the Riders Quadrant, but I might never know what really happened, and that kills me.

“I was evaluating Devera’s teaching methods.” He waves his hand as if he can brush off every instance that he’s butted in over the last few months.

“Right.” I scratch the scruff growing on my jawline and lift my brows at him. “And you needed to see Kaori right after my class the week before that, and you had to ask Emetterio a question during one of my challenges

—”

“Most cadets are completely cut off from their family. I’d hoped you’d be grateful I’ve found ways to be present in your life during your first year.”

He bristles and color rises along his collar, a sure sign that I’ve struck a nerve. “All within the rules, of course.”

“Of course.” Shit. Guilt settles in my stomach like lead, and I immediately regret saying anything. Naturally he’s overprotective. We’re the only family each other has. I couldn’t imagine sending my only child into the quadrant, knowing there’s an overwhelming chance I’d never see them again.

“I just…” His eyes soften. “I just wanted to lay eyes on you.”

My shoulders dip. “I’m glad to see you—”

“Second Wing,” he interrupts with a wistful tone, eyeing the patch on my shoulder. “You’ll be a great wingleader for Second Wing, just like I was in my day.”

No pressure or anything. “I’ll do my best—”

“What’s going on there?” His brow knits as he looks past me, and I glance over my shoulder to see what has him riled. Xaden Riorson’s cousin —another first-year—is talking to a few cadets with rebellion relics at the edge of the forest. Most of them are in Fourth Wing, but Imogen Cardulo is one of ours.

“Oh. Bodhi Durran’s probably giving a pep talk to some of the marked ones.” I turn back toward my father.

His eyes narrow. “There are four of them.”

“Yes. I think there are fifteen marked ones this year, divided pretty evenly among the wings.” Their presence was a major point of contention the first couple of months, given what their parents put our kingdom through, but most personal issues have been settled on the mat per quadrant tradition. “We have three in Second Wing, including Cardulo, and they’re all split between sections and squads, so it’s not like they’re violating Addendum—”

“For right now.” Color rises to the top of his neck as he glares in their direction. “They know the Code of Conduct changed this year and they can’t gather in groups of three, let alone four.”

“They’re not gathered, Dad.” I tilt my head and lean in to his line of sight. “No more than if formation had just broken or if they ran into each other in the academic wing.”

“Does he do that often?” He lowers his hands to his sides and his fists clench. “Give pep talks?”

“Sometimes, I guess.” Other times I’ve seen the second-years coaching them. “I wouldn’t really know, considering they’re not in my wing. But I understand why they stick together when they can. Some of the cadets don’t think they should be here, and I’ve heard a lot of them are nervous the dragons will kill them—”

“They weren’t supposed to live last year,” he hisses in a whisper.

My jaw all but unhinges. “You don’t mean that.”

“And now two of them are already squad leaders. As second-years.

It’s…unfathomable.” His face is fully flushed now, and he’s practically shaking.

“The dragons vouched for them. Their intentions. Their loyalty,” I say softly. “We never question dragons, right?” It goes against everything he’s taught me.

He grasps my shoulders and stares into my eyes with an intensity that makes him look like a stranger. “You don’t know the things I do, son. They might look like innocent kids being punished for their parents’ transgressions, but they’re not.”

“Are you serious?” I search his eyes, but he has no reason to lie to me.

His fingertips dig painfully into my shoulders. “I can’t tell you because it’s classified, but you can’t trust them. Not any of them, but especially not Riorson.”

“Dad, if they’re committing crimes, then bring them up on charges—”

“I don’t have enough proof. Yet. That’s why I need you.” His grip eases.

“I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but I love you, and I need you to be on guard. I need you to…”

“To what?” My brows scrunch. How can he possibly expect me to act on something when he doesn’t even have all the facts?

“Tell me if they break the Codex.” He smooths his hands over my shoulders, then pats me like I’m a child. “You can do that for me, right?”

I shake my head. “If they break the Codex, they’ll be handled by the chain of command as the Codex and the Code of Conduct dictate,” I argue.

“Those are the rules, and you’ve always taught me that the way to make you proud—the way to survive this place—is to follow the Codex to the letter, because the dragons established the rules and their word is law.”

“Yes, of course.” He nods. “You trust me, don’t you, Dain?”

Talk about a gut punch.

“Of course I do, Dad.” I wince. “Sir.”

“Then trust me now.” He looks away. When his gaze returns to mine, it’s softened, and he looks like my dad again. “I’m also worried Riorson will challenge you.” His face falls.

My back stiffens. “I’ve won every challenge but one—”

“And he’s never lost on the mat. Not once.” Dad swallows and gently squeezes the tops of my arms. “Do you remember what I told you about how he got those scars on his back?”

“I do.” Nausea rolls through my stomach as wingbeats sound in the distance.

“Now imagine he has the opportunity to exact his revenge on Violet.”

Dad’s face crumples. “I love her like a daughter, but we both know she’d never be able to defend herself. She’s good with a dagger, but her frail little body… They’d break her into a thousand pieces.”

Every muscle in my body tenses. “She’s safe on main campus. She’ll be safe with the scribes next year.” All she’s ever wanted is to live within cases of books and, by gods, if anyone deserves to get their dream, it’s Violet, especially after losing both Brennan and her father.

“As long as the marked ones don’t break the Codex and track her down,” he says quietly.

“They wouldn’t.” Fear oozes down my spine, leaving a chill in its wake.

“Just…” Dad sighs. “Keep an eye out for her sake. I know you wouldn’t want her in danger. You two have always been so close, and I know she misses you.”

I nod. “She’s my best friend.” Once I get out of here, and she graduates from the Scribe Quadrant, maybe…more. What I feel for Violet is incredibly complicated, and I haven’t let myself think past surviving each day. Everything else has to wait. Then again, at the rate this place changes people, there’s every chance she won’t recognize me next year, when we earn the privilege of visiting other quadrants.

“Look at that,” Dad says, glancing up.

The sky fills with color as the willing dragons fly overhead, and we both look up to watch the spectacle. According to Kaori, there are one hundred and thirty-seven willing to bond this year, which is far less than last year. There are many more of us than there are of them. The riot drops into the enormous forest, disappearing into the trees.

My throat knots. That forest either holds my future or my demise.

Dad pats my arms again and then drops his hands. “I really didn’t mean to burden you with all this. Not on such a momentous day.” He smiles.

“Now, you get in there and claim your green.”

I blink at the quick change of subject. “I’m thinking of a red.”

He blanches. “Oh, no. A red would be too ill-tempered for you. Listen to me on this, son. I’m speaking from experience. You should approach a green. They’ll respect your honorable nature and your dedication to Navarre. And I asked Foirn to speak to the others in his den on your behalf.” A sheepish smile curves his mouth.

Oh. Gods. “I’m sure the dragons loved that. They’re big on nepotism, you know.”

“Yes, I’m the worst father ever, trying to ensure the survival of my only son,” he teases, then gives my arms a final squeeze. “We’ll talk about the marked ones later. Earn your flight leathers.”

“Dad.” I fight to swallow the tangled knot in my throat. “The other cadets can’t think I’m being given special treatment. If I bond today, if I fly out of this valley as a rider, I want you to stop hovering.”

“Survive today and I won’t need to.” He nods. “Make me proud.”

“Yes, sir.” I wait until he leaves, then turn back to the forest, feeling considerably more stressed and just as afraid as before he arrived.

I would do anything for him, but sometimes it feels so fucking heavy being his son.

He loves me. He means well. He and Violet are the only people in my life who have never let me down. Never lied to me. Never picked up and left when talking proved too difficult. I have no reason not to trust him, not when he’s the one who stayed. So fine, I’ll keep an eye out to see if the kids with rebellion relics are breaking the Codex. It’s the least I can do for the man who has given me everything, and if it keeps Violet safe, then even better.

The forest is quiet as I walk under the canopy, officially the last cadet to enter the woods.

The crisp fallen leaves crackle beneath my boots as I head south, choosing a central path to optimize my chances of finding the right dragon.

But I also need to remove myself from the path of any wrong dragons to survive this. Funny that it’s a childhood of climbing trees with Violet, and not months of training in the quadrant, that’s about to come in handy.

Twenty minutes later, I find the perfect tree. It’s tall enough for dragons to walk under but has enough dead, broken bits of branch to scale safely. I choose my handholds carefully, test their strength, and start climbing.

I have to traverse around the tree in places, and I’m sweating by the time I reach the first full branch I trust to support my weight, but it’s pretty perfect for my purposes. Twenty feet in the air should be about right.

Reaching up, I grab hold of the next branch for the sake of balance, then settle in and wait.

The lone Blue Clubtail considering bonding this year passes underneath first—no fucking thank you—followed by a pair of oranges whose tails swing in time. Kind of wonder if they’re mated and looking for another set of twins to bond like the Wyckleys. None of the three feel like mine, so I sit tight and wish Sawyer Henrick luck when he walks by.

“Shit!” Someone screams above me, and my head jerks upward as a shape tumbles through the branches, smacking limb after limb on the way down. Not a shape. A cadet.

I straddle the branch about four feet from the trunk, then lock my ankles beneath as a redhead barrels toward me.

I reach out, and leather skims over my hands, but I get a grip on the back bottom of her uniform top, and her belt slams into my hands. Then I hold on with all I have.

The world spins as her momentum slows, and the belt digs into my hands so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t cut straight through me, but I don’t let go. When we come to a stop, I’m hanging upside down, and blood rushes to my head as she stops flailing.

“Aetos!” Joelle Tadita, a second-year, looks over her shoulder at me, her eyes wide with fear.

“Hold on,” I grit out through my teeth, then haul her upward, going on

pure adrenaline. “Reach!”

She grabs hold of the branch. “Got it!”

I let go, and she dangles for a second before dropping to the branch a few feet beneath. Only when I see that she has her balance do I pull myself up with my abdominals, grab hold of my own branch, and let my legs fall.

Then I lower myself to the same branch she’s standing on, her chest heaving as she catches her breath.

“What are you doing in a tree?” I ask, steadying myself by splaying my fingers over the trunk.

“Observing like a good second-year.” She holds one hand over her heart. “Thank you for catching me. I owe you one.”

“No problem.” I hold out my hand. There’s a red welt across the center of it, and the second I notice, both my palms begin to throb.

“You’re good in a tree.” She takes my hand and we turn awkwardly on the branch so she’s closest to the trunk.

“I had a good teacher.” A smile curves my mouth as she starts to climb down. “Try not to fall out of another one today. I might not be in that one to help out.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She blows a red curl out of her face and jumps to the ground. “Good luck up—” Her head turns west, and she smiles. “There’s a green coming!” She runs off to the north, and I move back to my previous perch.

A green. Exactly what my father hoped for. Arranged. Whatever.

My heart starts to pound as the heavy footsteps approach. He’ll be proud of me. He’ll trust me the way I do him, and he’ll ease up on the constant hovering.

Trees move to the east, and my attention pivots.

A Red Swordtail with scales the deep shade of a tomato walks between the trees, its tail knocking the leaves off the branches as it stalks in my direction, snarling at the approaching green. Its head is low in the firing position, its golden eyes shifting, assessing the potential battlefield in a way that reminds me of how I searched for the perfect tree.

The green maneuvers to the right of the tree, while the red prepares to pass on the left. They’ll be underneath me in a matter of seconds, and every instinct bellows to go red.

“Whatever will you choose, Dain Aetos?” A snarling, masculine voice barrels through my head, emphasizing the Ss. “Choose wrong, and I’ll discover how long it takes to burn you to ash.”

My chest cranks tight, like my ribs are trying to squeeze the breath out of me. One of the dragons is talking to me, which means he’s mine. But which one?

I should go right—to the green. He has to be the one speaking. That’s what logic dictates. That’s what Dad wants.

But this will be the most important relationship in my life, and what I

want, how I feel matters, too.

Dunne be with me. I leap left.

My boots hit solidly between the red’s shoulders, just in front of the seat, and my knees bend to absorb the impact.

The red’s head swivels around at an impossible angle, and I throw my arms out for balance as it unhinges its jaw and roars. Heat and sulfur blast me in the face, and the pure force of the sound shakes every scale beneath my feet. I recognize his face from the cards—Cath.

Oh. Shit. I’d better be really fucking sure he’s the one, or I’m about to spend the rest of the day getting reacquainted with Violet’s dad and Brennan.

“How sure are you?” the voice asks, and everything shifts. Muscles ripple beneath me as the red bolts forward.

Momentum hurtles me backward, and my feet come flying out from under me. I grab for the pommels, but I hit the hard ridge of scale with my chin instead. White-hot pain erupts in my face, but there’s no time to process it. Not with Cath launching into the sky.

“I’m sure!” I shout, slipping backward as he climbs with sweeping beats of his wings. I grasp the pommel scales with my aching hands. Then I pull with all my strength, hauling my body into the seat. My toes find the grooves between his scales, and I hunker down against his back as he pulls us into a stomach-curdling vertical climb.

“You would go against your father? Your superior officer?”

Cath reaches a peak and our momentum stalls for just a heartbeat. The world goes quiet, and in that moment, I touch what feels inexplicably like… peace.

We’re hundreds of feet above the ground, and up here, nothing else matters. Not my father. Not whatever challenge is called next. Not the quadrant. My life hangs in the balance of the next minute, the actions of the dragon beneath me, and it makes everything else insignificant, meaningless.

Gravity calls, and Cath tucks his wings as we dive.

“There is no bond more vital than that of a dragon and its rider,” I yell, locking my muscles to hold my seat. “No order may surpass its importance, or it is deemed unlawful. Article one, section three—”

“Do you give allegiance to the Codex while you ride the edge of Malek’s doorstep?”

I clench my thighs even harder as Cath banks right, throwing my weight in the opposite direction to maintain my hold as he starts to spiral. The horizon rotates over and over as wind whips across my face. He’s right.

Codex isn’t going to save me up here. “No.”

“Then what truly holds your allegiance?” He straightens, and the world evens out.

“You.” My heartbeat steadies. More than ever, I’m certain the voice is Cath’s, that I’ve made the right choice.

He swivels his head just enough to look over his shoulder at me. “Never forget that. It is the only condition of my allegiance.”

“Never,” I promise. Nothing—no one—could be more important, more essential than the bond I feel clicking into place. It makes even Dad’s meddling feel inconsequential. For the first time in my life, I’m connected to someone I can’t disappoint, because he already knows everything about me.

Cath turns his head back toward the horizon, and we fly as one.

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