Erin didn’t see Leslyn at all until two mornings later, when everyone gathered for second set of lessons with the Aeriemaster. Staring distantly through the floor as he walked, his clothes were wrinkled, his face was pale, and the skin around his heavy eyes was darkened with lack of sleep. The fact that he was there meant that his keet was still alive, but it was clear that all was very much not well.

The presence of her own, perfectly healthy keet made her tense with a peculiar sense of embarrassment when she went to meet him.

An unpleasant smell was wafting from his clothes with every step he took. It wasn’t an unwashed sort of smell. It was something like rotten egg, but somehow sickeningly sweet. He didn’t look up at her approach until she took his hand. His sudden, sharp glare of surprise pricked her with a distinct stab of shame.

He pulled his hand back.

“Look, Des, I—“ She caught herself mid-babble as his eyes narrowed still more. “Leslyn. Sorry.”

“Mhm.” He started to walk past her, but she stopped him with a touch of her palm to his chest. His exasperated eye roll that would have made her laugh and mock him in the waking world made her cringe now.

Very suddenly, she was back in her wheelchair, in their cramped apartment. Useless. Just there to burden her loyal, supportive uncle, while he gained nothing, and lost everything.

“Let me help,” she pleaded. “What can I do?” It felt like there was nothing she could do, for all her wholeness of body. She couldn’t even offer him the usual bowl of microwaved canned soup.

Give me something. Anything. Just let me be useful.

His glare transmuted into a frown of consternation at her desperation. “Come to the kitchen after lessons. I can’t stand it… can’t sit there alone with it anymore.”

He abruptly went to sit down.

Erin looked after him, a worm of dread tickling her stomach. His voice had sounded strained, almost as desperate as she’d felt just a moment ago.

She looked down at her beautiful little gray keet, its kittenish face bright and welcoming when its big orange eyes met hers. The first, and in her eyes the most special of the keets to be given away. What had she ever really done to deserve that? Arlis, too, had extraordinary circumstances that got him his red keet. Kaleit’s foolhardy challenges to Wrath that won him the black also seemed to be out of the ordinary. It felt like nearly everyone but Desmond was some sort of “chosen one” in this world.

Desmond… he should have been the one with a healthy keet. Not another Erin to take care of.

“Take your seats,” the Aeriemaster called out.

By the time Erin found a place to sit, her cheeks were wet. She tried to look somewhat normal as she listened, elbows on her knees and face cradled in hands so that only her eyes showed, but she couldn’t stop the tears.

“At some point, your keets will grow up into juvenile griffins. This generally comes around the six month mark. By then, they’ll be mostly feathered out, and ready to learn to fly on their own. With time, they’ll be strong enough to go up with their riders astride.”

There had been an awkward quietness in the room, probably because everyone was aware of Leslyn’s predicament—or else his smell—but the Aeriemaster’s words stirred a burst of excitement that couldn’t be contained. There was even some laughter as the human half of some pairs joyously petted and played with their keets. Erin noticed Arlis up front, gently holding his red keet’s wingtips and stretching its goofy-looking, featherless wings wide, perhaps imagining what they would look like once the feathers grew in.

“When the time comes, you will learn proper riding techniques and aerial formations, but for now, we’ll continue with the basics of what to expect as a new rider.”

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Erin was looking right at Gunu, but could barely hear a word over the noise of her peers. He made a fist and viciously rapped it on the wall behind him. Contrary to the awful sound that ripped the students right out of their state of merriment, the Aeriemaster’s eyes were bright, a small, gentle smile on his face.

“It’s as amazing as you’re imagining it is,” he said warmly. “You will cherish the memories of your first flights for the rest of your lives. Still, you must remember to stay alert to your feathered charges at all times. Those early flights can spark a young griffin’s interest in asserting its dominance, either in play or in earnest. They often have little understanding of their own strength at this stage, and can pose real danger to their rider or other manlings, let alone other griffins, as a result. Care must be taken to curb these urges whenever possible.”

At that moment, General Xavara came forward from the back of the room, probably having entered quietly after everyone’s attention was fixed on the Aeriemaster. Gunu stepped aside, gesturing for her to speak.

She gave him a nod, then faced the new recruits. Her eyes strayed toward Arlis in the front row for a moment, but her expression remained carefully neutral. “All of you know of our role in combating the seasonal dracat swarms and occasional wyvern attacks,” she said, her voice taking on a commanding volume. “Should our ranks dwindle or otherwise become indisposed, Nilvar and its dependent settlements could be starved out within a single Flood.”

The air of excitement in the room cooled quite a bit at that.

“Therefore, unless already employed in a valuable, specialized trade, everyone who is granted the responsibility of raising a griffin must work for the king in some fashion. As new rider pairs are understood to be physically and mentally able, they’ll be expected to join the King’s Guard and participate in regular aerial combat. If a pair fails basic training after making a sincere effort and it is determined that a second attempt would not be fruitful, they may take on an appropriate occupation as directed by the Aerie after a thorough review of their abilities and proclivities.”

“What other jobs can we do if we don’t make the cut?” a skinny man asked. He had the look of someone who was extremely socially anxious and could barely lift a gallon of milk, probably had earned his keet from the royal family, and not from enlisting. Erin couldn’t picture him being of much use in a fight, even though his keet looked about average beside its siblings.

She couldn’t picture herself being of much use, either. She’d completely stopped crying at that announcement, and instead stared numbly at the general. No one at all had tried to warn her of that obligation on the night Wrath called her from the crowd. And… it was becoming increasingly clear to Erin that she might…

She might never wake up. There might be no chance at all to avoid this frightening future.

Xavara’s brow was faintly creased with empathy for the nervous man, but her strong tone did not waver. “There is plenty to do under the wings of the Aerie. We need workers to learn tanning and leatherworking to make and maintain rider gear and tack. We need caretakers, herbalists, and apothecaries to train in looking after the health of all of our griffins. And, of course, we can never have too many herdsmen to provide livestock for the griffins and the tannery. There are always general labor and tasks to be done as well, such as some of you have already been doing here, or in the city proper, if so desired.”

“Additionally,” Gunu added, “Prince Koben has informed me that, at some point, a brand new Aerie will be built on Wrath Island. Many roles that have been closed for generations will need to be filled with fresh blood—including that of a fledgling Aeriemaster.”

If the riders were loud when Gunu spoke of flying someday, they were absolutely deafening now. A few stood up and frantically looked around with surprise and disbelief, as if a celebratory firecracker had gone off somewhere in the room. It was the chance of a lifetime, and that bestowed upon them so suddenly after already receiving the once-in-a-lifetime honor that was their griffins.

“What a time to be alive,” a nearby rider breathed, just loud enough for Erin to hear through the din.

She looked to Leslyn, who had an indecipherable look on his face. His eyes seemed not to have left the Aeriemaster since the startling revelation had been made.

Kaleit, on the other hand, had a look of determination that lit his eyes with pure fire. “We’ll need another branch in the Guard,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Right,” Aeriemaster Gunu confirmed, his sharp nod knocking a tendril of wavy auburn hair down over one eye. He flicked it back into place and continued, “It could take years before we’ve finished building, but King Dufan will appoint junior captains as needed for coverage when the time comes.”

“But don’t any of you assume you have any significant likelihood of being appointed to those coveted positions,” General Xavara warned over the group’s jubilant murmuring. “You’re currently the freshest recruits out of dozens, if not hundreds of expert riders and breeders who’ll be vying for the honor, as well as those who’ll come after you.”

It was clear by the direction of her gaze that the warning was meant for Kaleit.

The brazen look on the boy’s face, however, made it equally clear that he didn’t care.

At least he’s consistent, Erin thought with a sigh, and tried her best to focus on the rest of the lesson…