Fire Breather

80.

    GARRICK had been gone more than he had been home, running the weapons from our forge to the front lines near the Stonewater River and filling Tecarus's armory with my brother. Then the last trip lasted a day longer when he and Xaden found themselves caught in an attack.

That had me in a worried mess when he returned, not even bothering with attempting the hearing rune Professor Trissa had given our squad—the trial squad.

And then there were the fights that hadn't stopped between riders and fliers. It seemed that, naturally, my actions in killing Kali had raised everyone's anger and I was the biggest walking target. Three times in two days, multiple fliers had tried to kill me which had my squad around me almost every hour of the day.

Even now I stood with them, listening to Devera lecture us from the side of the center mat with Emetterio and one of the flier professors by her side. "We've given you two weeks to figure out how to integrate peacefully, and you have yet to do so, much to our disappointment."

The sparring gym wasn't as big as the one at Basgiath, but it packed in every cadet in Aretia. Including the fliers. We had only been put together for rune lessons in very small increments and mealtimes, until now. But either way, it usually ended with at least one of us throwing a punch.

"What the hell do they expect?" Rhiannon crossed her arms from beside Violet. "One of them literally backstabbed Blade and we've been killing each other for centuries. Do they expect us to weave flowers into each other's hair and confess our deepest, darkest secrets all because they gave us a luminary and hiked a cliff?"

"We should take out all of Kali's squad for what she fucking did to Blaine," Ridoc snarled, still pissed off over what happened. "Who's to say the rest of them aren't like her?"

"Preach it," I hummed, standing beside him.

"It's a little tense," Violet agreed from my other side, holding the conduit that she was cramming as much power into.

There was a clear divide in our ranks: a sea of black on my right and a swath of tan on the left, with a wide strip of bare floor between us. While I had my own bruised knuckles, so did Third Wing with a few black eyes after a brawl erupted yesterday in the great hall between them and two drifts.

"Yesterday's outburst of violence was absolutely unacceptable," the fliers' professor started, addressing all cadets and not just the fliers. "Working together is what's going to make a difference in this war, and it has to start here!"

"Good luck with that," Ridoc said under his breath.

"We'll be making significant changes," Devera announced. "You will no longer be separated for class."

"Are you fucking joking?" I scoffed, clenching my jaw as a mumble of discontent rolled through the gym.

"Which means—" Devera raised her voice, quieting our side of the formation. "You will respect one another as equals. We may be in Aretia, but as of today, we've decided the Dragon Rider's Codex still applies to every cadet."

"And as their guests," the flier professor said, placing a hand on her hip, "all fliers will abide by it." A disgruntled murmur rolled through their half. "Is that clear?"

"Yes, Professor Kiandra," the answered in unison.

"But we acknowledge that we cannot move forward without addressing the hostility among you," Emetterio said, his gaze shifting between the groups. "At Basgiath, we had a method for addressing grievances between cadets. You may ask for a challenge—a sparring match that ends when one of you is unconscious or taps out."

"Or dies," Aaric added.

The fliers collectively gasped and I quietly laughed at their shock. None of them would last a fucking hour at Basgiath.