by S. W. Clarke
I kept Noir moving toward the center of the meadow, where some twenty fae and most of the horses from the stables congregated around the headmistress. Then, too, there were the professors: Fernwhirl, Farrow, Goodbarrel, the young fae from Whisper, a few of the others.
But Rathmore wasn’t among them.
The day before, he’d told me it was too much a conflict of interest for him to participate. He’d worked too closely with me, and wouldn’t treat me with the same fairness as the other professors. So he’d bowed out.
I scanned the stands. He wasn’t there, either.
My mouth hardened. I didn’t need him to be there; this wasn’t about Rathmore, anyway. And yet I couldn’t pretend I didn’t feel the flicker of disappointment. This wasn’t just about becoming a guardian. He knew that more than almost anyone.
Eva flew over to me as I approached. She paced me as we approached the group. “Nice hair.”
I half-smiled. My hair had been braided tightly, not a strand loose. It was perfectly utilitarian and non-snaggable. “I have to give some credit to my roommate.”
Her own hair had been tied into in a much longer French braid, which she’d wrapped at the back of her head. And like me, she’d dressed for function: she wore dark sneakers, dark leggings, an equally dark long-sleeved shirt.
Basically, she and I had worn the closest things we had to camouflage.
“Clem?” she said as we approached.
“Yeah?”
She flew ahead, spinning to face me with pure affection in her eyes. “I just want you to know, you’re my favorite witch.” And before I could respond, she’d floated ahead to the group, landing amidst the crowd.
I allowed myself a quick grin. When I rode up, I masked my expression. I also kept Noir at a distance from the others; he wasn’t one for groups, and I didn’t want to test his skittishness. Particularly not around someone like Liara Youngblood.
She stood on the opposite side of the group, her black hair pulled tight, her arms crossed. I knew she’d sensed me, even if she wasn’t looking.
In the center, Umbra tapped her staff in the grass. “From a head count, it seems they’ve all arrived.” She gestured to the guardian who’d taken down my name. “Read them off, please.”
I dismounted, stood with one hand on Noir’s neck, rubbing to keep him calm and still until the time came to run.
Eva came to my other side, stood by me with her shoulder touching my arm.
The guardian spoke a name, and a voice replied, “Present.” He spoke another name, and another voice replied. On he went down the list, until he arrived at me. “Clementine Cole,” he said, eyes finding mine before I’d even spoken.
I was wholly present.
When the roll call was done, Umbra nodded. “So then, let’s begin post haste, shall we?” She came closer to the center of us all, waving us in until we stood in a more intimate circle. “Students, I thank each of you for entering the guardian trials. We hold these trials each year to determine who will join their ranks here at Shadow’s End Academy. Only the most capable, the most determined will come out the other side of these trials—and some years, none do. These trials are exceptionally difficult, and for good reason.”
She paused, eyes shifting over the group. “For if you become a guardian, you will be sent into the world not just as a protector. Not just as a rescuer. You will be a steward of the light, the first in line to stave off the darkness. You will be asked time and again to heed the call, sometimes to wake in the night, and always to be ready to face death.
“For that is what the Shade’s army is: death. They do not value life, and certainly not yours. And yet it is only by facing the Shade that we may preserve this world. It is only through the guardians’ work that we may persevere. Think on that, and if any of you would like to leave this circle, I will not judge you for your choice.”
A pause, during which Umbra’s offer hung in the air.
No one moved. No one spoke.
She nodded. “Thank you all for your dedication. In a moment, the first trial will begin. Humans, you will mount your horses. Fae, ready yourselves for flight. The trial is simple: you must be like the wind, and nothing less. If you’re so much as touched with a single finger before the trial ends in an hour, you’ve failed.”
She gestured for her fellow faculty members to step forward. Twelve of them stood behind her. Five humans, seven fae. “These are the men and women whose faces you should remember, for they will be seeking you out.”
Umbra swept her arms out. “We’ll begin in the meadow, but the whole of the grounds are open to you except for the clearing and the buildings. You may traverse as long and far as you like within this radius, but no farther. If you reach the edge, you will know it. Do what you must to avoid capture.”
Noir stamped, jerked his head.
A flicker of amusement passed over Umbra’s face. “I suppose we should begin, then.” She retrieved a pocket watch from her robes, flicked open the front and gazed down at it. “When the trial starts, I’ll tap my staff into the ground, and you’ll have ten seconds before I send the faculty after you. You have sixty seconds to prepare yourselves. Best of luck to each of you.”
Sixty seconds.
Where other humans began checking their stirrups and their horses’ bridles, I had none of that. Noir was ready as he was, and so was I.
Or so I thought.
Eva turned to me, and I to her. She unclipped my cloak, threw it off to the side. “You don’t want that.”
A sudden chill hit me. “Why not?”
“It’ll inevitably snag on something. You don’t want even the slightest chance of that.”
I didn’t know how to thank her. In just two years, she’d been a better friend to me than any human ever had.
She must have seen it in my eyes. She hugged me, whispered, “I’ll be looking out for you.” When she pulled away, she turned, began adjusting her hair and clothes and loosening her legs and wrists.
“Fifteen seconds,” Umbra called.
I had fifteen seconds. Everyone else was already mounted.
I turned, grabbed Noir’s mane, and in two steps swung myself up onto his back. Beneath me, his ears shifted from sound to sound, pricking to noise. I could feel his desire to move.
I set both hands in his mane, turned him toward the forest. As I did, I caught a glimpse of the stands and a certain leonine head of black hair.
There he stood with folded arms, half in shadow. Callum Rathmore, watching.
I shifted my gaze back to the trees. This wasn’t about him. It was about one specific noise: the moment Umbra’s staff touched the ground. A single echo, and we would be off.
My eyes closed, and I listened. Waited. Stilled all the other noise in my head to focus just on my ears.
And then it happened. “Begin!” Umbra called, her voice resounding over the grass.
My thighs had barely begun their squeeze around Noir’s ribcage and he was already in motion, a shot across the grass.
The first trial had begun.
Horses and fae scattered like dandelion seeds. Noir and I were the only ones to head directly south, his hooves a drumbeat through the grass.
We reached the tree line in a blink. We were the first into cover, and the ten seconds hadn’t yet been called.
I heard Umbra’s voice as we hit the shadows—she had released our pursuers.
In my head, Jericho’s instructions came clear again: “You can’t run the horse for an hour. Memorize the hiding spots you and Eva chose, the ones that allow for easy escape if you’re caught in them, and hope you don’t have to use more than one of those spots.”
My eyebrow rose. “I thought the idea was to show them how fast and agile you are.”
He laughed. “Sure. But being a guardian is as much about surviving to the next fight as it is about agility. Which means you have to be intuitive, good at knowing when to lay low.”
Good at knowing when to lay low.
Well
, that shouldn’t be an issue. I’d scoped out most of the grounds, found three plum spots, the first of which—
Noir’s ears swiveled as we drove deeper into the trees. He was listening behind us as he galloped.
I glanced over my shoulder in a quick sweep of the ground. Nobody was behind us. And yet Noir had actually quickened, his breath coming faster. Somebody was around.
The faintest rustle sounded in the canopy, and my eyes rose. I caught a glimpse of glinting wings, and that was all I needed to see.
We were being followed.
I didn’t know how; we’d been the fastest out of the meadow. It seemed impossible that one of the fae could have caught up this fast. But I had definitely spotted wings.
Then I remembered something else Jericho had told me: Be cautious about the trees. The fae were masters of the trees.
I jerked back around, gave Noir’s ribcage a quick squeeze, leaned close to him. We couldn’t keep heading toward the hiding spot I’d picked until we lost the fae tailing us, which meant I needed a new course.
I shifted my weight right, urging Noir into a turn. If we stayed in the trees like this, we were at a disadvantage. It was on the open straightaways that human riders had advantages over fae, and I was in the wrong territory for this chase.
That was why I’d seen so many riders veer across the meadow during last year’s trial. They were being chased by fae, and the meadow was one of the widest, most accessible expanses on the grounds.
I had to get back to the meadow. Then I could let Noir loose without the worry of trees, and we could lose the fae.
That rustle sounded above me again—closer.
When I glanced up, the fae was flying not twenty feet behind, veering in and out of the trees with far more ease than Noir.
It was Professor Fernwhirl.
Eva had warned me about her.
I cursed. Of course she would be the one to come after me; she and I hadn’t developed any real rapport in the class I’d taken with her last year. Plus, she was a combat flight instructor—she was maybe the most dangerous fae to be fleeing.
Her tactics from last year flitted through my mind, even as I urged Noir on, leaning him right again in a wide arc back toward the meadow.
Fernwhirl liked to come in from the sides. Her favorite move was something like a t-bone, where she came at you hard and direct when you were facing ahead. I remembered many a fae rubbing their shoulder after Fernwhirl had tackled them.
I had to be ready for that.
She came at me sooner than I’d expected. She must have suspected I was heading back toward the meadow, because she blasted from the canopy in a flash of wings. In fact, I hadn’t heard it. The only reason I sensed it was because Noir’s left ear swiveled just as she pushed off a tree.
I glanced left just in time to spot her. Fernwhirl flew at me like someone who’d run an unequivocally red light and decided they didn’t care to stop anyway.
Chapter Forty-One
I couldn’t let her touch me. Not even once.
As Fernwhirl rushed me, I dropped close to Noir’s neck, slinging my arms as tight as they’d go. I dropped my weight right, sliding half off his back, only my leg still hooked over his spine. The other clung tight to his ribcage.
From my angle, I caught a glimpse of her body passing less than a foot from Noir’s back, through the space I’d just occupied. Wide-eyed shock graced her face as momentum carried her behind another tree, much as she tried to right her course in time.
She’d been too sure of herself. Too confident she’d caught me. She hadn’t prepared to pivot.
Maybe next time, Professor.
I pulled myself back up, sliding my fingers back into his mane, dropping low. This was our best chance to escape her—this, and the meadow.
Ten seconds later, we burst from the tree line at the southern edge of the meadow. Sunlight blossomed over us, the whole world coming into view. Ahead, the stands were full. Figures darted through the far side of the meadow—riders, fae, some chased and some chasing.
Umbra still stood in the center, her staff in front of her. She turned to watch me.
When I glanced back, Fernwhirl was on us with a red-cheeked face like she’d been slapped. She arrowed through the air some twelve feet above the ground, her hands tight to her sides.
One thing I’d learned from Eva: a fae with their arms tucked in flight wasn’t messing around. When they went Marvel superhero, you knew they meant business.
We poured through the grass, my thighs tight with a silent message to the horse: Let’s go.
And Noir felt it. His neck stretched long, his body forming almost a straight line—head to neck to back to tail.
We moved. God, did we move. I’d let him out, but I didn’t ever remember him moving like this.
His hooves drummed past the stands in a blip of an echo, and somewhere distantly I heard someone hoot my name. I didn’t have time to look, didn’t have time even to consider whose voice it was. We were already past, and the onlookers and Umbra were behind us.
We closed in on the far side of the meadow at a pace that shocked even me. When I glanced back again, the distance we’d gained on Fernwhirl rendered her face almost indecipherable from the rest of her.
Now the fae slowed, veered off east.
She’d given up. On us, at least.
I allowed myself to breathe, my grip loosening as we neared the meadow’s northern edge. When we hit the tree line and shadow rolled over us, I sat up, and we dropped to a canter.
After the meadow, this felt almost like moving in slow motion. I patted his sweaty neck. “Well done,” I whispered. “Well done.”
We only had fifty minutes to go. The longest fifty minutes of my life.
I rode him to the first hiding spot: the pond where Mariella and I had trained since the winter. It was secluded, but the clearing around the pond was large enough that I could see anyone approaching.
Plus, delicious water.
Noir took us right to the edge of the pond, began drinking. I couldn’t dismount him, not until the trial was over. And so I leaned back as he leaned forward, his body sloping downward.
My eyes tracked the whole space around us. Quiet. Serene. Not even a hint of wind today, which was in my favor; the trees didn’t move at all.
We might be able to wait out the rest of the trial here, if we were lucky.
When he had finished drinking, I brought him over to a stand of trees where we could have some cover in case someone should be passing by. And that was fortunate, because the moment we’d found our secret spot, a fae went screaming through.
And when I say “screaming,” I don’t mean speed. I mean his mouth was open, and he was shrieking. He was there and gone just a moment later. His cry echoed behind him as he disappeared deeper into the forest.
In his wake, a second fae—Fernwhirl—flashed by, her wings glinting in the momentary break from tree cover. She chased him like a silent predator.
Noir snorted, swayed.
I patted his neck, hushed him. They hadn’t noticed us anyway. How could they, given the screams? I could still hear him somewhere, deep in the trees, his voice small and remote and desperate.
Who’d have really thought Fernwhirl would be the beast lurking in the shadows? That fae was downright terrifying when she had a mission.
The time passed slowly after that. Minute by agonizing minute, and I couldn’t let my guard down. Not once. And so the adrenaline hummed low in my veins, keeping me alert and paranoid and trigger-happy.
Noir would periodically stamp under me, flicking his tail, ready again to gallop. And each time I would soothe him, quiet him. Not yet. Maybe we would have to move, but not yet.
After a while, I glanced up at the sky. It must have been close to an hour, given the sun’s angle. I just had to wait for Umbra’s signal, and we had passed.
I’d never wanted to hear the sound of a staff with such aching desire in my life.
Noir’s ears flicked
forward, his head raising.
I went fully still, staring in the same direction. Only motionless trees lay ahead, and yet someone—something—was near. I trusted the horse’s instincts completely.
At the faintest noise sounded—a twig crack?—Noir’s whole body flinched under me.
My hands went tight in his mane, and I squeezed my thighs, angling him left to turn us around so we could take the far path around the pond. Whoever it was, we would be better off in motion.
“Not so fast,” a lilting voice called from above me.
My eyes lifted, and there she was in the branches not ten feet away. The newest bane of my existence.
Professor Goddamn Fernwhirl.
We bolted from the stand of trees. I barely had time to find my low lean over Noir’s neck before he was in dirt-kicking motion, galloping away from the pond.
The meadow. We had to get back to the meadow.
“Not this time, Clementine,” Fernwhirl called behind me. “I’ve brought reinforcements.”
Another figure emerged from the trees, this one on horseback.
I recognized him as one of the professors from House Gaia. He was lean and perfect for riding light. Which meant I had the fastest fae at the academy on my tail, and a rider blocking me in front.
My worst nightmare.
I couldn’t stop. Stopping was failing. Meanwhile, I knew Fernwhirl was silent and lethal behind me. If I slowed or veered at all, she would have me.
Which meant the only way through was forward.
So I spurred Noir on, straight at the rider. I knew exactly what I needed to do.
It was finally time.
The rider’s green eyes widened, and he pressed the heels of his boots into the horse’s sides to urge the mare toward me. But I knew that mare; I’d watched her many times in riding lessons. She was a skittish one, completely herdbound. And Noir was galloping toward her.
I tightened my thighs around his sides, took deep breaths as I straightened in the saddle. I had to find his gait, and I didn’t have much time to do it. Just a few strides.
