Wingborn (25 page)

Now all he felt was anxious. What would he
do if he didn
’
t come
back? There wasn
’
t
another miryhl on the entire Overworld that could compare. It was
this one or none.

“You have to
come back,” he whispered to the empty field. “You have to.”

So he waited, while everyone else got on
with their lives in the warm summer evening. Kneeling like a
supplicant before the gods, Lyrai remained on the flying field. The
first stars opened their eyes above him and the moon climbed over
the Cloud Sea. Oblivious to the passing time and growing numbness
in his legs, all Lyrai could do was watch the spot where
he
’
d last seen the
miryhl.

A cool wind drifted over the grass, raising
goosebumps on his skin, but he ignored it.

Until a soft voice murmured,
“
Still here?
”

Not daring to look over his shoulder, Lyrai
swallowed.
“
Yes.
”

“Have you
nowhere better to be?”

At the hint of amusement, Lyrai turned. A
hiss of pain escaped him as the blood flowed back into his legs and
he flinched when the miryhl lowered his beak to rub them.

“
I was
waiting for you,” Lyrai said, grimacing at a fresh cramp. “I
wasn’
t sure you
’
d
return.
”

The miryhl straightened and tilted his head.
“
In some things we have
no choice.
”

Unsure how to take that, Lyrai attempted to
stand instead. He had to do it in stages on his reawakened legs
but, with a little help from the eagle, he finally stood on his
own.

Rumbling with concern, the miryhl nuzzled
him.
“
You must not wait
like this again. I don
’
t
like it.
”

Smiling, Lyrai carefully stroked the
feathers on the eagle
’
s
head, relaxing when they rose and the bird purred his enjoyment.
“
I hope I
’
ll never need to.
”

“Good.”

They fell silent as Lyrai tickled the
miryhl
’
s head, uncertain
how to proceed. This was new for him and he was at a loss over what
to do.

“Must I sleep
there?” the miryhl asked, nodding at the rickety structure built
for the Choice.

He chuckled.
“
No.
”

“
Good.”
The eagle sighed with relief and preened Lyrai’
s hair.
“
It does not look
safe.
”

“
It’s
well enough,” Lyrai promised, enjoying the attention. “F
or a
few days.
”

The miryhl huffed, unconvinced, and bowed
his head.
“
I am
Hurricane.
”

“Lyrai.
Lieutenant Lyrai Henstrati Henrykran.”

And that was all they needed. Without
another word, Lyrai showed his new miryhl to the Rider eyries and
wondered whatever had happened to ceremony and ritual, and whether
they truly meant anything after all. It certainly felt better this
way.

30
^th
Fledgling

D
ERRAIN WAS SWEATING
, but given the milder temperatures
of approaching autumn, he couldn
’
t blame the weather for it. Wiping his hands on his
breeches, he took a deep breath and entered the temporary eyries.
He
’
d wanted to visit
ever since he had received his results five days ago, but
hadn
’
t dared. Everyone
said it was bad luck to see the miryhls before the Choice. Students
who ignored this tradition were rumoured to make bad matches or
have their partnership severed in nasty, abrupt ways before
graduating from Aquila.

As a skysailor, Derrain had known many
superstitions and this one was far too important to ignore.
Somewhere inside, a miryhl was waiting for him. He didn
’
t want to mess anything up.

“
I
can’
t do it,
”
he
murmured, looking around the crowd of students, Riders, civilians
and miryhls. So many miryhls, positioned in individual, roped-off
enclosures, their perches at ground level so that each eagle could
see and be seen.

There were so many. How was he supposed to
choose?
“
I
can
’
t do it.
”

“
You
haven’
t even looked yet,
”
Mhysra said, clearly amused as she stood beside
him.

“
I’
m looking now,
”
he replied. Shafts of sunlight poured down through
the hatches, illuminating the busy scene. Fifty miryhls had been
brought to Nimbys to match with thirty-two students and nine
Riders. However, there were considerably more than forty people
wandering around, viewing the spectacle, and more than one
youngster looked as lost as he felt. Where did he even start?

“
I
really can’
t do this.
”

Rolling her eyes, Mhysra dragged him away
from the crowded entrance.
“
You can
’
t see anything from over here. Come on, walk with
me, and we
’
ll see what
you can and can
’
t
do.
”

While Derrain was grateful to Mhysra for
agreeing to help him, she didn
’
t understand. She
’
d grown up surrounded by miryhls, living with one
as part of her family. For her this was normal. There were no
life-changing decisions for her to make today.

However, as she led him around, commenting
on build and temperament, he soon remembered why he
’
d asked for her help. Big, small,
dark, pale, glossy, scrawny, she had something to say about each
eagle, finding strengths and weaknesses that he
’
d never imagined. The eyries were full of
students listening to Riders and their families, but no one else
had an expert like Mhysra by their side.

Derrain could only stare, wondering if this
was the one or that one?

How would he tell? Would it happen in an
instant? Or was it more ordinary? Did he just pick the one he liked
the look of the most? If so, how would he tell? What was he looking
for? What was he
supposed
to be looking for? While he might
no longer think that all miryhls looked the same, he still
didn
’
t know how to see
the best in them. They were miryhls – great, gods-blessed birds
crafted out of necessity and dragon magic. What right had he to
judge their worthiness?

“Hey, Mhysra!
Derry! You both survived, then?”

Jolted out of his anxieties, Derrain spotted
Mherrin Wrentherin inside the nearest enclosure. Dressed in the
brown and tan of Wrentheria, he was here to help his mother and any
passing stranger.

“More than
survived, we both passed with honours,” Mhysra told her cousin,
warming Derrain with her pride and praise. She might have been
younger than him, but in Rider terms she was the first person he
sought approval from.

“
Well
done.” Mherrin gave Derrain a congratulatory backslap. “Now for
your reward. Have you picked out yours yet? If it’
s one of
ours, we
’
ll reserve it
for you. You
’
re
practically family.
”

Derrain could only shake his head at the
overwhelming offer on such an overwhelming day.

“
Steady
on, Mherrin,” Mhysra said, squeezing Derrain’
s arm.
“
We haven
’
t seen them all yet, let alone
spotted any favourites. Not that he could go wrong with one of
ours, but there
are
so
many here. More than I expected.
”

“
Just
don’t take too long,” Mherrin warned. “
It
’
ll only get busier and it
’
s first come, first claimed. If
you do want one of ours, Derry, and I
’
m not about, don
’
t fret – Mam, Mhylo and Mullia are all here.
That
’
s if you
’
ve managed to shake this one
off.
”
He tugged the end
of Mhysra
’
s braid.

She slapped his hand away.
“I’
m helping him.
”

“
And
I’
m a pyreflyer,
”
her cousin mocked, looking smug.

Mhysra blinked and Derrain stared.
“
Are you?
”
they asked in unison.

Mherrin gave a tentative nod and was
instantly engulfed by his delighted cousin. Grinning, Derrain
managed to shake his hand and offer his own congratulations before
prising Mhysra off.

“
Don’
t get too excited,
”
Mherrin warned.
“
But it
’
s
why I
’
m here. Mam
finally talked Da into it. Training doesn
’
t start until Half-Year.
”
His cautious words were ruined by his
grin.
“
Another
half-moon. I can
’
t
wait!
”

They traded congratulations again, then
Mhysra pulled Derrain away, admonishing her cousin for distracting
them when they had important work to do.

Mherrin rolled his eyes.
“
If you need a better guide, Derry, let me
know. She
’
s
biased.
”

“
You’
d pair him with a pyrefly,
”
Mhysra retorted.
“
Just because I prefer feathers over
leather, doesn
’
t mean
I
’
m biased.
We
’
re Riders.
”

“
We’
ll see.
”
With a final wave, Mherrin turned away to answer a
curious student
’
s
questions.

“
Ignore
him,” Mhysra muttered, linking her arm firmly through
Derrain’
s.
“
I
’
ll
help you just fine.
”

He squeezed her arm.
“
I know you will. I wouldn
’
t have asked you else.
”

“Come on
then,” she ordered, and dragged him around the rest of the
eyries.

When they
’
d completed the circuit and seen every miryhl on
offer, Derrain was still no wiser. The pressure was giving him a
headache and being surrounded by similarly panicked faces was not
helping. The expectation in the building was enormous, enough to
make anyone scream.

Apart from Mhysra. Standing near the
entrance, she drank from a water flask and gossiped with her Aunt
Mhylla, freshly arrived from filing the miryhl registration forms
at the Rider offices.

“
W
hat will you do now?
”
Mhylla asked her niece, and Derrain wondered if
his input was even expected. Perhaps they should just go ahead and
make his Choice for him. They were far more qualified.

Mhysra shook her head.
“
I
’
d hoped a couple would have caught his eye, but
nothing yet.
”

“What, not
one?” Mhylla stared at Derrain, her dark eyes a sharp reminder of
her sister, plunging him into memories of days aboard ship,
scurrying like a rat to keep out of the countess’ way. She had the
same commanding stare, determined set to her mouth and confidence
in the merest twitch of her eyebrow. Formidable ladies the
Wrentherin. “Don’t you have a list?”

Since she was asking him rather than Mhysra,
Derrain snapped to attention.
“
No, ma
’
am. I wouldn
’
t know where to begin.
”

Mhylla sent Mhysra a chiding glance.
“
Everyone needs a
list.
”

Derrain shook his head, having never
imagined having a miryhl before. Becoming a Rift Rider
wasn
’
t his lifelong
ambition as it was for some. He
’
d only considered it since the proclamation
readmitting women to the Riders. Knowing Mhysra would want to try,
he
’
d thought she might
need a friend along for company. So he
’
d never thought about the kind of miryhl he wanted.
Just as long as he had one.

Mhylla frowned, looking prepared to make the
Choice without him. Which suited him fine.
“He’
ll need strength with that height and
those shoulders.
”

Mhysra nodded.
“
I know. Something calm, with endurance over speed.
Derry
’
s got promise as a
fighter and he
’
d choose
pike over bow.
”

“Stalwart
soldier,” Mhylla agreed, gazing into the shadows. “Nothing too
showy or cocky.”

Mhysra shook her head, smiling at him.
“
That wouldn
’
t fit. He
doesn’t need
a Cue.
”

He raised his eyebrows in mock offence, even
though he knew he wouldn
’
t be comfortable with a miryhl like Cumulo. Not
that he didn
’
t like
Cumulo, but his arrogance made Derrain constantly want to poke fun.
It was vital that he had a miryhl he could get along with. That was
true for everyone, though he doubted many realised it. He smiled at
Mhysra, doubly glad she was helping him.

“I think I
know the bird,” Mhylla announced. “Not one of mine, but I brought
her down.”