Guardian: Final Exam

"Run!"

My hoarse shout barely carried over the screams of the dying and the crackle of flames. My eyes skimmed the fire-lit carnage before focusing across the bridge at my feet. On the far side, fire caressed the tree and its nest-platform, licking up the bridge's anchor ropes and flirting with the red-gold leaves. Blood trickled down my right arm, soaking into the denim gauntlet, as I watched the heavily pregnant woman heave herself up the ladder to the platform.

She stumbled at the lip, thrusting her arms forward to catch herself, as a barn owl swooped through the encroaching flames. The owl shifted as it landed, turning into a dark-haired man — his denim shirt singed but not burning. I scanned the forest floor and gritted my teeth while the man hugged the woman, then urged her toward the bridge. They made it to the anchor before she paused, clinging to the platform and shaking her head.

Past the fire-line, a tree toppled, crashing into the platform's far edge and shaking the couple to their knees. The man dragged the woman to her feet and finally began to cross to the Trade Route's stone footing.

But they were still too slow.

"Bones!" I swore to myself. Forcing my leaden muscles to respond, I raised my arms — or my left arm, as the right hung useless. My veins burned as I cast a bubble-shield tightly around the anchor ropes. The shield flickered, then held, and the flames slowed their attack on the weakened strands. The man shot me a tight smile as he coaxed the woman along the damaged lifeline. Behind them, the damaged platform burned and half of it tumbled free as the braces gave way. Another feeble bubble-shield enclosed the remains, and my knees threatened to buckle even as the bridge stabilized.

My brain raced, searching for another option as the couple neared the mid-way point. I could force a shift — probably — but it would almost certainly kill the babe. I wavered, undecided, until the helmeted head popped above the platform's ragged edge.

"Here!" The gruff cry was picked up and echoed from below as archers circled the flame's heart and cleared the tree's trunk. In a flurry, they loosed their arrows.

Swearing, I released the bubble-shields, creating new ones that each held long enough to deflect an incoming shaft. A sob caught in my throat as the man spun, intercepting the three missiles I'd failed to catch with the only resource he had left — his own flesh.

With his last bit of life, he pushed the woman into a stumbling run, and I caught her, pulling her onto the solid rock trail.

Ii did not let her turn back, casting a bubble-shield — thin and ragged — between us and our home.

"What are we going to do?" she sobbed in my ear.

"Run," I repeated, turning and shoving her toward the Trade Route. "Don't look back. The others—" those that were left "—are ahead of you."

Resolve hardened her face as she pressed a hand to her swollen belly. She nodded and ran, her bare feet slapping heavily against the stone.

I faced the shield, feeling it bleed the strength from my bones with every second it existed, and traced over the burning trees. Screams echoed over the fire's gloating crackle, but fewer than before, and my skin drew taut from the heat. 'Is there anything but death left here?'

A piercing shriek drew me from my search, and a soot-stained hawk plummeted from the night sky. As it landed, it shifted into a panting woman; her pale face blackened.

"The trainees—" She broke off, coughing, then began again. "They're cut off to the north — the fire's too hot for them to fly through."

I flinched, remembering the feel of ashed butterfly wings against my feathers.

"You have your crystal?" The words bit at my throat like acid.

Her fingers darted to the leather lace that disappeared beneath her denim shirt.

"I — yes, but —"

"Lock it." My eyes resumed their search of the flames.

"What? No!" Her voice shook.

"Bones and feathers! There's no time, and no choice!" I glared at the archers, who'd held their arrows after my shield rose. "We can't let them reach Arirang."

I felt her stubbornness like a wind at my back, and I felt it die as she gave in.

"What about the trainees?"

A harsh sound — not a laugh, but its distant cousin, perhaps — clawed its way from my throat to my mouth. I met her eyes, then looked down at the black crystal in her hands.

"I'll try," I promised.

She nodded and shifted into a soot-stained snowy owl. Her talons clutched the crystal, and it bled black as she winged down the Trade Route.

I turned away, sucking in a deep breath, then coughing. I spat bloody phlegm from my mouth and scraped a filthy hand across my lips, before fumbling at the hilt of my knife. It settled into my grip once freed from its sheath, and I sucked another, shallower breath.

"North, huh?" I traced the Center's bridges in my mind's eye. With a sneer at the archers below and the soldier's slow, shaking crossing of the now-flaming bridge, I slashed at the right anchor, hooked an ankle in the frayed loops on the left, and cut the last rope free.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo!"

The soldier's scream rang oddly in my ears, and I frowned, twisting my head away from the sound. A sharp stabbing pain heralded a crick in my neck, and I sat up, rubbing the soreness. The dark stillness resonated with the chaos of a burning enclave until the rooster's call broke through again.

Shaking the cobwebs from my head, I stretched and rubbed my cheek, wondering at the ache as my fingers found a deep crease. With a frown, I glanced at my pillow. A chipped, yellowed quartz spike sat on my desk, the crags matching the pattern embedded in my flesh.

Chuckling, I picked up the crystal, stroking the warmed mineral and chasing the lingering dream fragments. Something about a fire, and fighting. Another chuckle slipped through my lips.

"You need to stop reading stories and go to bed," I told myself. At another raucous crow, I scowled at the window. "If that rooster will shut up, anyway."

Rising from my chair, I reached up until my muscles burned pleasantly and my fingers brushed the thatch, then stumbled the three steps to my hammock. Falling face-first into the nest, my cheeks smooshed against the woven cord and my nose poked through a gap. The arch this put on in my back threatened a new round of cramps, so, grumbling, I rolled over.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo!"

I glared at the thatch, picking out individual straws in the pre-dawn light. As the rooster fell silent again, I sighed and closed my eyes again.

'Relax. Sleep. It's the middle of the night. And tomorrow…'

A shiver that had nothing to do with the predawn chill shook my frame, setting the hammock into a soothing swing. 'By this time tomorrow, You'll be a Guardian. Just one last test.' I swallowed and flopped to my side, riding the hammock's sway. My heavy eyelids drifted shut, but my mind refused to still, throwing out scenario after scenario on the canvas of my skull.

'No, there's no chance they'll have us force-shift someone. And we passed off guiding a new Butterfly through First Shift last week. What about…'

Cheerful, half-frantic chirps drew me from my restless doze.

"Wha—?" I rubbed at the lattice-work print on my cheek and peered at the window. The swallows that nested outside normally greeted the dawn — much more consistently than the local roosters, might I add — but this morning, their tone was… off. Wiping the sleep residue from my eyes, I sat up, squinting in the dimness and trying to piece together what the birds' calls meant.

'Rain.' It was so obvious I could have kicked myself. 'They only chatter like that before a storm.'

"Bones!" I leapt from my hammock, stumbling when it rocked backward. Rain meant clouds, which meant it wasn't before dawn like the darkness promised. "I'm gonna be late!"

With one hand grabbing my calf-high boots and the other grabbing yesterday's shirt — a quick sniff-test proved it wasn't too funky — I dashed to the door, grateful for once that I'd fallen asleep in my jeans. The door swung shut behind me while I shrugged into the shirt, juggling the boots, and swung bare-foot onto the ladder. The coarse rope bit into my skin and one of my boots bailed, landing with a thud next to…

"Bones and feathers!" I muttered under my breath and locked my fingers around my remaining boot. Forcing my breath to evenness, I descended to the loam-covered ground and smiled sheepishly at the dark-haired twins, Lila and Erebus. Standing next to my boot, Erebus's full lips were twisted into a wry smirk, but Lila's gaze was focused a million miles away.

"Uh, sorry about that," I said, bending to retrieve the footwear.

"No blood, no foul." Erebus's grin widened. "In a hurry?"

I followed his eyes to my shirt, flapping and unbuttoned, and my cheeks flamed.

"Bones!" Both boots hit the dirt as I fumbled with the fastenings. Of their own accord, my eyes darted to Lila, who stood, immaculately clad in full denim uniform, her hair bound in a tight braid. "Sorry!"

"No worries here. What's the rush?"

"Well, uh…" I glanced from Lila to Erebus, taking in the matching gauntlets that sheathed their forearms. "It's the Guardian exam today."

"Oh!" Erebus's smile shifted, warming and losing its taunting edge. "Word of advice?"

I straightened. "Yeah?"

"Relax and trust your training."

The breath whooshed from my lungs, and my shoulders fell. 'That was it? Relax?' I looked toward Lila, hoping for some wisdom from the youngest Guardian certified at this Training Post. But she'd shifted to a purple-speckled butterfly and floated away on the stiffening breeze.

My stomach clenched. She'd returned to the Training Post last week with her brother escorting her, but she wasn't the bright, smiling Guardian who'd taken her first post three years ago.

Erebus's frown chased Lila into the forest before coming back to rest on me.

"It's not you, you know," he said.

"What?" I blinked. 'Does he think…?'

"Right. Nevermind. I'll… see you later, I guess. You'd better get moving, though — doesn't the test start pretty early?"

"Bones!" I scrambled for my boots and sprinted through the trees while Erebus laughed behind me.

♫♪♫♪

The first rumbles of thunder shook the leaves as I stood on the platform outside the exam center, leaning on the braided cord railing. A web of rope and plank bridges spread out from the platform, joining the classrooms that perched on the massive branches at the heart of the Training Post. The trees grew a few wingspans apart, and the branches laced together at their extremities, forming an impenetrable canopy: a Butterfly either flew in under their might or was stuck above.

Beyond the center, the trees were wider spaced, and few bridges joined the individual nests that hosted trainees, instructors, and families. Instead, rope ladders led to paths on the ground that wound between permanent and semipermanent homes. Distant giggles announced the pre-trainees, darting along the trails in another game of seek and tag, and the savory scent of roast warred with the heavy promise of rain.

With a sigh, I twisted the sodalite point in my hand, examining the stone's white-accented blue planes. The delay — both by oversleeping and dawdling here — might mean the difference between earning my gauntlets today and being dismissed back to my Home Post. But my mind refused to focus on the directions embedded in the crystal, and instead was drawn to the brewing storm.

Any other test would be delayed — only the most critical flights were permitted in harsh weather — but Guardians were the Butterflies sent to rescue anyone caught out.

A hand fell on my shoulder, and I jumped. Only the hand's weight kept me from bolting over the edge. With a gasp, I turned to Guardian Kenzie, who grinned, mischief dancing behind her eyes.

"Why are you still here? Plotting your next prank with the trainees?" Her grin widened. "Or on them? Bones and feathers — I'll help with that!"

A thread of unease flitted across my skin. 'You heard that oath somewhere, recently. But where?' The tone was different — not lighthearted like Kenzie, but serious. Deadly.

Kenzie arched an eyebrow and cleared her throat. Shrugging, I forced my attention to her question.

"They probably have enough on their plates." I clenched the quartz in my fist. "Don't they test tomorrow?"

"You, prank-less?" Kenzie studied my face, and I fought to keep it blank. "Wait. Don't tell me you're taking Loni seriously?"

I winced and pulled away. Guardian Loni's fury when I'd turned up late, today of all days, had been memorable, and the lecture he'd bellowed at my bowed head had culminated with questioning my purpose at the Training Post.

And I hadn't had an answer for him.

"Cairn?" Kenzie's voice was uncommonly sober, and her hand drifted forward as if to clasp my shoulder again.

Inhaling deeply, I faced her, forcing a smile from my lips to my eyes.

"No." I shook my head, keeping just the right amount of eye contact to instill trust like we'd been taught. "It's just that, well, I'm going to miss this place."

Kenzie's shoulders relaxed and her hand came to rest on her hip while she grinned again.

"You mean you'll miss the Post? Or you'll miss someone at the Post? Maybe someone who just got back?"

"What? No!" The flush that had started to die flared bright again, like the halo that illuminated dark braids and a laughing smile in my memory. 'Does she think… Well, yeah, at one time, but…'

"Don't worry. I'll keep your secrets. For now." Kenzie's laughter cut across the rising wind. "And you'll have a few days after your test while the Powers decide where to post you. Don't waste them!"

I groaned and ducked my head.

"I'm leaving now." I flipped the sodalite's leather lace over my head and tucked it beneath my shirt, muttering a curse as I noticed the button-less hole sticking up. I fumbled with the series, undoing and re-buttoning until they lay straight while Kenzie's mirth doubled.

"Too bad a certain someone didn't see you running around half-dressed today," she snorted.

I shook my head, clamping my lips shut, but that didn't deter Kenzie.

"What — you mean she did? And she didn't…" She waved her hands vaguely.

"Goodbye, Kenzie." My teeth hurt as I ground them together.

"Ha!" Kenzie slapped my shoulder hard enough that I grabbed the rope-rail to stay on the platform. Then she leaned close, whispering in my ear. "That's how you distract someone. Don't forget who teaches those classes. Now get out there and beat the crap out of that test. Prove that old stick in the mud wrong."