Page 83 of Resurgent

For the first time in months, there’s nothing behind me. My laughs come as easy as my love for the people and dragons that have carried me through these last couple of months.

Right now, I’m not thinking about the attack, or my dad. Not missing a baby I don’t know if I ever would have been good enough for. There’s no war outside these walls or fear in my heart. Just Tyr, Mattey, Zest, and a freedom I forgot existed.

Leaning over Tyr’s neck, I grip lower and smile as I say the only two words left in my mind.

“Beat them.”

Chapter twenty-four

Annalise

The first thing I learn about a Vanguard campout is that the word campout is being used very loosely.

There are no tents in the traditional sense.

There are military-grade shelters strung between trees with thin sheets separating each “room”, a cooking station that looks suspiciously like an outdoor laboratory, enough weapons to arm a small rebellion, and a course marked through the woods with red flags, trip lines, and enough obstacles to make me question whether the academy is actually trying to train soldiers or simply eliminate them.

The second is that Korr has no intention of letting me out of his sight for an entire weekend. Not that he says that—no, he claims he’s here because Kael and Renwick need another set of eyes.

But as his eyes are locked onto every move I make, I don’t believe him for a second.

“Three instructors for a weekend of infantry exercises?” I ask as we unload packs from the supply wagon.

Korr drops his pack onto the ground.

“Three instructors for a weekend of infantry exercises involving recruits who repeatedly show how inept they are and how careless they are with the rules.”

“So they just needed the big, bad Captain Korr to wrangle us all in.”

His mouth twitches. “I’m supervising you.”

“I’m touched, but I don’t need a babysitter.”

Matt snorts from beside me. “I give it twelve hours before she’s getting herself into trouble.”

“Twelve?” I scoff.

Hunter looks at me. “You’re right, that's giving you too much credit. I bet six.”

Theo walks past carrying two medical packs, Ian beside him with another slung over his shoulder.

“Make that four,” Ian says, missing that Hunter was the one he responded too as he laughs at the middle finger I’m giving him.

This weekend is designed to simulate field operations—navigation, weapons drills, tactical movement, defensive positions, casualty extraction, hand-to-hand combat, and enough running to catch me up on all of the morning sessions I’ve missed out on since the attack.

By the time we reach the final event on the first day, my muscles are burning, my boots are filthy, my shirt is sticking to my back, and it feels like I’ve been out here a week already.

We’re in the middle of running a dry-fire tactical exercise through a stretch of wooded terrain when it happens.

A shot cracks—different than the rest.

Someone shouts “Live ammo!”, and I move on instinct, dropping behind a fallen log as recruits scramble for a hiding place of their own.

I jerk backward with a shout as a burning sting slices across my side.

For half a second, I don’t understand what happened, then I look down to see my skin on full display, a patch of my uniform missing, and the surrounding area singed.

Then comes the blood. It’s not much, just a thin, bright line along my side where the bullet grazed me.