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The weeks pass in a blur. Xaden is an infuriating pain in my ass whenever I spar, always giving useless comments with that annoying as hell smirk on his face. I try to ignore it—I really do—but he makes it so tempting to punch that pretty nose in.

Maybe then he wouldn't be so frustratingly beautiful then. Seriously, I think I'd be doing everyone a favor.

Violet somehow wins every one of her fights—although I'm fairly certain she's doing something to her opponents beforehand. They always get all wobbly and weird halfway through the round.

At least, until her opponent doesn't show up one day and Xaden steps up. I don't even want to recall that. I can't imagine the lecture Violet got from Dain afterwards, as if it's her fault that Xaden's a dick.

But finally, a week and a half from Presentation, I stand at the base of the giant cliff that supplies the Gauntlet.

I stare up at it, all of its deadly glory. "Well, that's..." Rhiannon says, her voice wavering slightly.

"Amazing," Aurelie finishes with a sigh. I have to grin at that.

"You think that hellscape looks amazing?" Rhiannon asks incredulously, her gaze not leaving the Gauntlet.

"I've been waiting years for this!" Aurelie bounces on the balls of her feet, as if she can't think to contain her excitement. "My dad—he was a rider until he retired last year—used to set up obstacle courses like this all the time so we could practice, and Chase, my brother, says it's the best part of being here before Threshing. It's a real adrenaline rush."

"Rylan used to do the same for me," I say. "He's a retired rider my parents hired to train me."

"Chase said to watch out for those giant posts jutting from the side of the cliff," Aurelie says, pointing. I follow her gaze to the multiple wide logs around two-thirds of the way up.

"Oh good, I was wondering when it might get difficult," Rhiannon mutters. I snort.

"Thanks Aurelie," Violet murmurs, and I can see her gaze fix on those logs.

"Still not sure why they call it the Gauntlet," Ridoc says. I can see him shivering, and I try to keep my body from doing the same. Malek, it's cold. Why do we have to do this so early?

"To ensure dragons keep coming to Threshing by weeding out the weaklings," Tynan sneers. He has his arms folded over his chest, his chin raised arrogantly. If there wasn't a rule about not killing your squad mates, Tynan would be next on my list right after Maize, who, matter of fact, stands right next to the egotistical asshole.

"We'll see how long you last, Sorrengail," Maize says mockingly, and I tense. Does this bitch really want to go again? But Ridoc steps in for me.

"Knock it the fuck off," he snaps.

"What's your problem?" Tynan glares at Ridoc, Maize smirking from beside him.

"My problem? You think that because you made friends with Barlowe and Siefert that you have the right to be a dick to your own squad mate?" Ridoc replies.

"I, for one, am not friends with those two idiots," Maize snaps. "I'm just stating what everyone is thinking."

"You shut the hell up too," Ridoc turns his glower to the woman. She simply raises her eyebrows and crosses her arms. I've never wanted to punch someone more in my entire life—well, maybe aside from Riorson. The two are equally insufferable.

"That's my point exactly, Ridoc. She's my squad mate. Our times aren't just ranked individually. We're scored as a squad, too," Tynan argues, "which is how the order for Presentation is decided. Do you really think any dragon wants to bond a cadet who walks in after every other squad in the processional?"

"They're not timing us today, asshole," Ridoc says as he steps forward threateningly. Before the situation can escalate, Sawyer steps between the two first years.

"Stop. Take it from someone who made it through Presentation last year: your time doesn't mean anything," Sawyer says. I frown. What's the point in timing it, then? "The last cadet to walk in last year bonded just fine, and some of the cadets in the first squad were passed over."

"Little bitter about that, aren't you?" Tynan taunts. This boy really doesn't know when to stop, does he? I glare daggers at Tynan, secretly plotting his... untimely death. No one would miss him. I'd probably get an award, honestly.

Sawyer valiantly ignores the rude comment, and continues. "Besides, it's not called the Gauntlet because it weeds out cadets."

"It's called the Gauntlet because this is the cliff that guards the Vale." I nearly jump right out of my skin when Emetterio speaks behind me. I spin around to give the professor a disgruntled look, but he just smiled at me. I roll my eyes. "Plus, actual gauntlets—" the professor continues, "armored gloves made of metal—are slippery as hell, and the name stuck about twenty years ago." His gaze lands on Sawyer and Tynan, and he gives the pair a condescending look. "Are you done arguing? Because all eleven of you have exactly an hour to get to the top before it's another squads chance to practice, and from what I've seen of your agility on the mat, you're going to need every second." Excuse me? I give Emetterio another offended look, but mutter my agreement along with the rest of my squad.

"As you know, hand-to-hand challenges are on hold for the next two and a half weeks before Presentation so you can focus here. Sawyer, you're going to show them how it's done, since you already have the lay of the land. Then Pryor, Trina, Tynan, Rhiannon, Ridoc, Maize, Wisteria, Violet, Aurelie, and Luca." Emetterio surveys the squad with a half smile resting on his lips. "You're the only squad to remain intact since Parapet. That's incredible. Your squad leader must be very proud." He starts walking away and calls over his shoulder, "Wait there for a second!"

"Aetos is especially proud of Sorrengail," I hear Tynan sneer. I grit my teeth and ball my hands into fists. Tune them out, tune them out, tune them out. So I do. If I didn't, Tynan would be on his way to the Healer's Quadrant with a very broken nose.

I finally return to reality when Emetterio returns and the arguing comes to a stop. Thank Malek. "Here we go!" The professor says. "You'll get your time at the top of the course, if you make it, but remember that you'll still have nine practice sessions before we rank you for Presentation in two and a half weeks, which will determine if the dragons find you worthy at Threshing."

"Wouldn't it make sense to let first years start practicing this right after Parapet?" Rhiannon speaks up. "You know, to give us a little more time so we don't die?"

"No," Emetterio answers simply. "The timing is part of the challenge. Any words of wisdom, Sawyer?" I swing my gaze to the older man as he scans the course.

"There are ropes every six feet that run from the top of the sheer cliff side to the bottom. So if you start to fall, reach out and grab a rope," Sawyer advises. "It'll cost you thirty seconds, but death costs you more."

"I mean, there's a perfectly good set of steps over there." Ridoc points to the sharp, zigzagging set of stairs leading up to the top of the cliff next to the Gauntlet.

"Stairs are for reaching the flight field on the top of the ridge line after Presentation," Professor Emetterio says. He flicks his wrist once, and immediately the course comes to life. The air is full of the sound of wood logs shaking and rolling against the side of the steel cliff, and it almost sounds like music if I pay attention to it.

"Every one of the five ascents on this course is designed to mimic the challenges you will face in battle. From the balance you must keep on the back of your dragon," Emetterio says, "to the strength you'll need to hold your seat during maneuvers, to the stamina you'll need to fight on the ground, then still be able to mount your dragon at a second's notice."

All of our gazes jerk upward when a sizable chunk of granite is knocked loose, coming tumbling down the course and slamming into several obstacles on the way down. Trina, who stands a few feet to my right, murmurs a hushed, "Whoa." I glance at the woman in surprise. I've never heard her speak, not once.

"What if we can't make it up?" Luca asks. "What's the alternative route?" I have to smother my snicker. You'd think she would have learned something by now. In the Rider's, you either go up or you fall and die on the way down.

"There is no alternative," Emetterio voices my very thoughts. "If you don't make it, you can't get to Presentation, can you? Take your position, Sawyer." I watch as the older man readies himself to leap into action, paying attention to his starting stance. Feet spread, upper body forward slightly. Like he's about to take off in a foot race. "After he makes it past the final obstacle, so everyone can learn from this cadet completing their course, the rest of you start every sixty seconds. And...go!"

Sawyer bolts forward, running from obstacle to obstacle like he was born to do it. The only lull in his action is inside the wheel, when he has to wait three rotations around to jump to the other side. I let out an impressed whistle when he reaches the top in what couldn't have been more than six minutes. Rhiannon and Violet cheer for the man, and I can't help but smile slightly.

"Perfect technique! That's exactly what you should all be doing," Emetterio says, clapping his hands twice as he turns to us and gestures to Pryor up to the starting point.

"Perfect, and yet he was still passed over at Threshing," Luca sneers. "Guess the dragons have some sense of taste."

"Mm, if the dragons have taste then that doesn't give you much of a chance, does it?" I snap in annoyance. Luca gives me the middle finger and I don't hesitate to return the gesture.

"Give it a rest, Luca," Rhiannon says as Pryor starts.

The line of people in front of me for the Gauntlet lessens and lessens as my squad mates make their ascent. Finally, with my heart thundering in my chest, I step up to the starting point and ready myself for takeoff.

I barely hear Professor Emetterio's words instructing me to start before I'm off up the deadly course.