Page 127 of Ashborne: Defiance

“Well done,” Ronen chuckled.

He was being nice, but I appreciated it. “Sir. Yes, sir!”

No one said anything, so I wasn’t sure it was the right reply. But Ronen continued.

“This is the beginning of your true test, Flameborne. From this point forward, you continue in the task until it is complete, no matter how long it takes. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Very good. Now, as quickly as you can, walk to the front of the net. If you fall, steady yourself as you’ve just done, then begin again from the point where you fell. Do not crawl. Don’t move at all unless you’re on your feet. Lean into the wind and let its power take some of your weight as you shift from foot to foot.”

I swallowed hard. Walk? Every time I lifted a foot, the net moved with me, which meant any step would have be taken high-kneed, and as my other foot sank underneath me. I was going to fall several times. “If I fall—”

“Assess and overcome, Flameborne. It’s a test. Meet it with the best of your ability. Just don’t use your hands to move you forward. Stand where you fall, find your balance again, then keep moving. When you reach the front of the net, I’ll give you your next instruction.”

I nodded—which made me wobble. One of the men laughed. I grimaced, embarrassed, but then had to focus.

The front of the net was only ten or fifteen feet ahead of me. But after the first few minutes, with the hot rake of Voski’s gaze on the side of my face, I wanted to weep with frustration. The same thing happened over and over. First, I lifted a foot and tried to bring it forward, only to have the net sink under my greater weight placed on the other foot. That, in turn, shifted my weight and sent me stumbling sideways.

After the fourth try, without making any progress, I wanted to swear.

The next time I ended up on my knees it was so tempting to pull myself forward with my hands, even a few inches, I actually shook fighting the urge.

‘Do not surrender, Firebird,’ Koa sent kindly. ‘Kham says… Voski says eyes high… smaller steps. Less moving.’

I frowned and blinked back the tears, glancing at Voski as I pushed to my feet again. He was trying to help? At least I was faster at getting to my feet. But then I looked down and caught sight of the booming waves below and my chest quavered.

“You can do it, Grace!”

“You got this!”

“Keep your head up, eyes on the horizon!”

Several voices called and cheered, all of them offering different tips. But I remembered Voski’s advice.

Eyes high. Smaller steps.

Chewing my lip, I locked my eyes on the horizon, kept my arms out at my sides, and lifted my foot once more—only this time, instead of trying to clear the net entirely and take a full pace, I waited until the net began to sink on the other side, and put my foot down again.

I’d only gained half a pace, and my arms pinwheeled. But I did it without falling for the first time.

A whoop went up from the men, and Bren whistled. I couldn’t help smiling.

So, I tried it with the other foot. I only managed a couple of inches that time—one cross-strand on the net. But I didn’t fall.

“Lean into the wind!” Ronen called.

My cheeks went hot—he’d told me that the first time, and I forgot.

Bending at the waist just a little, hunching, I leaned forward until I felt the wind pressing me back, then I moved the first foot again—and made half a pace again. I wobbled, but I’d stepped out slightly as well, and discovered that also helped me remain upright.

Then the clapping and cheers and advice came in a flood.

Keep the knees half-bent, not locked, just like Voski told me before I cast off Kham’s back.

Arms out and hands cupped to catch more of the wind as I leaned into it to take some of my weight.

Wider stance.