The Verum Trilogy - Survivor

Chapter 16

Luca was no stranger to pain. He believed that some men were simply born to fight, born with iron and mettle in their blood, a wicked sliver of flame in their eyes, the whisper of death hovering just shy of their necks. Luca Riddick considered himself one of these men. It was not that he felt particularly extraordinary; he was not graced with great strength of character or will, he was not a hero, nor did he consider himself much of a soldier. But some men, he believed, were chosen by the universe to be tested over and over again, until they were either molded into warriors or unraveled at the seams. Luca had been tested by the world several times. This was not his first fight, nor would it be his last.

The morning drills were just a weak filter, designed to rid the program of recruits that couldn't tolerate extended physical discomfort. The strategy course ensured soldiers could make decisions even when they were exhausted. The weaponry training prevented recruits that would become a danger to one another with fatigue from ever mounting the deadliest weapon in the Citadel—the fire-breathing beasts that could reduce an entire civilization to black streaks against stone.

He knew all of this, and there was no doubt in his mind that he would reach selection. Whether a dragon chose him or not was out of his control, but he would stand there with the few others and come out on top, of that he was certain. The Verumese traitor on the other hand, couldn't even do the bare minimum. At least Alia Bennett was strong enough to wield a weapon, quick enough to catch him off guard in a spar, resilient enough to think through fatigue and make logical, if inexperienced, decisions. Breana Avery was weak in every quality the Rider Corps valued, yet over and over, exceptions were made.

He couldn't make sense of it. She failed her exams, couldn't draw a bow, had never won a spar and even tried to run, but their leadership just looked the other way. Then a wild runt of a dragon barely larger than a horse claimed her, refused to swear the oath that protected the rest of the Corps, and what did the commander do about it?

He stared through a window at a room filled with mats, a mechanical dragon mount on a system of pulleys suspended in its center. Bree was inside, listening to a flight instructor explain how the flight simulator worked.

Their captain was doing nothing, and now the Verum survivor was learning the secrets of the Rider Corps a full week sooner than Citadel-born recruits. That alone was suspicious enough to border on treason. Bree climbed into the harness and Luca's gaze followed, eyes narrowing when she nodded at the instructor. Luca did not care that she was only nine when Verum burned. He had been ten when his father kissed his mother goodbye and walked out the door to quietly search for the stolen deathling, eleven when after a year of silence, dragons laid siege to the city with him in it. Barely twelve when they came back reporting that all undercover operatives were killed by the Verumese soldiers before the dragons let loose the first barrage of flame.

She was old enough to call that place her home. Old enough to want revenge, just like Luca had. Luca decided to destroy Verum's allies just after his twelfth birthday. Nine was plenty mature enough to make the same decision against the Citadel. And what better way than to infiltrate the same unit that burned Verum down?

She still attended morning drills and weaponry, though she was noticeably absent from their strategy lectures. And apparently, as he looked on, now her evenings were spent training for first flight, an honor reserved for recruits that graduated selection with oathbound dragons after six weeks of grueling training. It made no sense.

"Ready for Friday?" Alia's voice came out of nowhere, startling him from his thoughts. He glanced at her, a small frown tugging at his lips. She had been in an almost obnoxiously good mood lately, which he suspected had something to do with their team leader, but he knew better than to get involved. He disagreed her priorities, but as long as she could sort them on the battlefront it meant little to him. He nodded at the window, and she followed his gaze.

"Total bullshit, right?" Alia shook her head with a soft snort. "But from what I've heard her dragon barely even speaks to her. I honestly feel kind of bad. All she wanted was to leave, and now her and that black monstrosity are stuck here with each other."

"We're about to go to war, Alia," he said softly, and she stared at him with a small frown. She was pretty, Luca thought, with her long hair and doe-shaped eyes. To him she seemed too kind for the Corps. She was tough and strong with a competitive streak a mile wide, but he doubted she had any idea what was waiting for her beyond graduation. He wondered if her eyes would still look so kind when they had to see through a wall of blood and ash. Ironically, he had to admit Bree seemed more prepared in that singular regard. One look in her cursed, slanted eyes told him she was no stranger to death. But experience did not matter, not really. All that mattered were the decisions they made when their lives were on the line.

"That's kind of what the Rider Corps does, Luc," Alia flippantly responded, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Accidents happen on the battlefield."

Now he had her attention, though he was no longer looking at her. His gaze was steadily trained on the Verumese recruit getting repeatedly thrown on the mats before struggling to her feet and sliding back into the harness.

"Gods, Luca, you're not seriously suggesting—" he cut off her breath of disbelief with a firm shake of his head.

"I never seriously thought our command would put her on the front lines with us, but it's looking like that is more and more likely. Look me in the eye and tell me even if she has good intentions, she wouldn't be a liability."

Alia stared at him, hard. She took a long breath, slowly releasing it through her teeth.

"Look—"

"You can't even say it. You and Top treat her like she's this kid that doesn't know any better, but she does. Alia, she watched her family burn in those walls. You really think she needs to be coddled? She's playing you both."

"Even if you're right," she lowered her voice, "And I'm not saying you are—that doesn't mean you just let her die on the battlefield! That's low, even for you, Luc."

"And what if I am right, and she kills us in our sleep the first night we spend in the field?" he shot back in a heated whisper. "Don't tell me you haven't thought it, Alia. You're too smart to be that naïve."

She made a noise of frustration.

"This conversation is pointless. All of this is just conjecture and speculation."

He sneered.

"This conversation is about to be your reality in seven days. I suggest you decide whether or not you want to live through this war before then."

He turned and brushed past her shoulder without waiting to hear her response.