Chapter 406: The Line You Finish On

Chapter 406: The Line You Finish On

Flicker spent the first day after the awakening asleep. She’d earned it. Dr. Alcott checked her twice and pronounced her well. Brand checked the bond and pronounced it stable. Verrick looked her over, wrote something, and told Jin not to let her fly hard for three days.

On the fourth day, he took her to the flight yard and let her fly one slow length, and watched. He kept her well below her old racing pace while she learned the reach of her longer wings.

On the first beat, she lifted much higher than she’d meant to and had to come down again, flustered. On the second length, she’d started to work it out. Each beat carried her farther. After a rest, one careful Crosswind Turn brought her around the marker with noticeably less effort than before, though she still had to check her speed before landing.

She looked from him to the far marker, wanting another run. He resisted, allowing one gentle Ember Shot at the target before they finished. It came out of her beak brighter than before, with a flicker of wind spiralling round it, and it hit the target post squarely. The fire and wind stayed together all the way.

He didn’t ask for a Lance. Not yet. There’d be time. The selection came on the fifth day, in Brand’s practice room. The bond had settled, and she wanted to be there for it.

"It’ll come to you," Brand said. "Same as last time. You’ll know what’s compatible. Don’t rush."

Jin sat against the wall with Flicker on his knee and closed his eyes. He could feel what Flicker had, through the bond: four things, each with its own shape. Gale Dash was a straight, hot line of pure speed. Ember Shot was a spark, quick and cheap.

Ember Lance felt more remote, a concentration he couldn’t readily imagine holding. He left it alone. He knew which possibility he wanted to examine. Crosswind Turn felt like a twist of air, a corner taken at speed.

He’d thought about this for weeks. Gale Dash had been tempting. A clean burst of speed could get him out of trouble, and he knew how often a few faster steps would have helped.

But he spent most fights choosing positions for his beasts and keeping a route open for himself. He wanted something an attacker wouldn’t already be allowing for. He reached for the twist of air.

It came. It settled into his Core next to the heavy, familiar weight of Gravity Press, light and quick and slightly strange. Two skills now, one from each fully awakened beast: his Rank-2 allowance was filled.

"Which one?" she asked.

"Crosswind Turn."

"The redirection?"

"Yes. I’d rather change the line than only cover it faster."

Brand made a note. "Then take care with where the new line ends. You still have to arrive somewhere."

He checked the result privately before leaving.

[Skill assimilated: Crosswind Turn]

[Mastery: Basic]

He tried it in Yard Three that afternoon, with Lucian watching from the wall. The spearhead was secured inside its padded practice guard, and the lane ahead was clear. It came with rules, the way Gravity Press had. He knew them the moment he reached for it. He had to be moving already. He needed footing under him and clear space to go into.

It took what he was doing and bent it, sharply, without slowing him down much. He jogged down the lane, picked a spot, and reached for it. A gust snapped out from somewhere around his ribs. His whole body went sideways at an angle he’d never moved at in his life, a sharp, clean cut away from the line he’d been running along.

It was wonderful for about half a second. Then he arrived in the new place still travelling at full jogging speed, in a direction he hadn’t been ready for. His feet tangled. The spear’s heavy head kept swinging the way it had been going.

He went three more steps than he’d meant to, staggered, and sat down hard in the sand with the spear across his lap. Lucian winced, then came over and offered a hand.

"You made the turn."

"I noticed." Jin stood, brushed sand off his trousers and checked the spear’s guard. "The next bit needs work."

"Walk it first," Lucian said. "Show me where you meant to stop."

Jin marked the spot, then followed the line at an ordinary pace. From there he could see how far the spear would swing and where his next step had to land. He did it again. This time, he knew it was coming. He picked where he wanted to end up before he reached for it. It wasn’t just away from here but there, that spot, two meters left.

The gust snapped. His body cut sideways. He was still going too fast. But he’d picked a spot, so he was ready for it. He came down on his back foot, the way he’d practised a hundred times, and the spear point came round with him.

It ended up pointing back down the lane where he’d been, roughly where an attacker would be.

Lucian nodded. "Better. You kept the point where you needed it."

The next two attempts were worse. He stopped when his legs began to shake. Each activation drew sharply on his energy, and his hips and knees ached from trying to catch his weight at unfamiliar angles.

"That could get me out of the way without taking me out of the fight," Jin said, breathing hard. "If I finish it properly."

"Then you’ve got to know where you’re going before you go."

Jin looked back at the scuffed sand. "Next time, fewer turns. Better endings."

Later that Friday, they stayed for a short version of the old sled drill. The handler worked behind the barrier, moving the padded target through its guides. Flicker’s job was to strike the side marker and clear the lane; Glitch’s was to stop the sled within the chalked space.

Flicker took the bend at speed and put a controlled Ember Shot on the marker. The pad rocked. She climbed clear before Glitch stepped across, braced and held the sled short of the line.

"Good," Jin said. "Both of you."

Flicker returned to his arm, copper feathers bright in the late sun. Glitch watched her land. Then, instead of following Jin toward the wall, he went back to the stopping mark.

"You want another?"

The drake planted his feet and looked at Flicker again.

Jin glanced at the handler. "Same pace. Can you vary the release this time?"

The man nodded. On the next run he checked the sled just before it reached Glitch. The drake started to lean into a load that hadn’t arrived, caught himself and reset. When the rope loosened, he met the pad squarely.

He turned toward Jin’s arm as soon as it stopped. Flicker preened a copper-gold feather with great care. Glitch snorted and returned to his mark.

Jin laughed. "One more, then a rest."

This time Glitch waited for the sled to reach him. His feet held, his shoulders absorbed the movement, and the pad stopped neatly between the chalk lines. He kept it there until Jin called him clear.

Then he looked at Flicker again. He’d always liked doing well. Jin had never seen him so interested in whether she had noticed. He rubbed the warm plates beside Glitch’s jaw, feeling absurdly pleased with both of them.

She might catch you sooner than either of us thought.

Glitch leaned into the scratch, still watching the bird.

He thought of Elsa with her hands against the incubator glass at Harlow & Pike. She was already taking the dormant egg’s care seriously. When it hatched, she’d have to keep at it through slow progress and all the ordinary work of raising a companion.

One day he hoped to give her a surprise as good as this. She’d probably ask a dozen questions before remembering to breathe. A hundred and seventy thousand Coins was a beginning toward the enhancement, but he still had a long way to go.

He opened the treat tin and sat with both beasts until they had finished.

That night, the large Astral Stone he’d started the week of the escort finally ran dry. He unwrapped another and drew one thin thread before stopping. Three large stones remained untouched beside the two older small ones. His control was steadier, but he and Glitch were still Rank 2, 2-Star. There was plenty left to work on.