And this time they lifted into the air. Pixit pushed his wings down, and dirt plumed up in a cloud beneath them. Mina clung to his neck, flattening herself against him. She saw the tower zooming toward them.

«Squeeze tight!»

Mina held on as tightly as she could, and Pixit veered up, his belly parallel to the tower, flying straight into the air. She bit back a shriek. The wind shook her cheeks and wicked away any moisture in her eyes. The ribbon in her hair unraveled and sailed away on the breeze, and then Pixit leveled off, gliding westward.

She lay against his neck, panting.

It was both silent and loud in the air: Pixit’s wing beats were loud and steady, a thrum-thrum-thrum, and the wind was a whoosh in her ears, but all other sound had been stripped away.

«Open your eyes.»

Mina realized she’d squeezed them shut. She pried them open. Over Pixit’s shoulder, she saw the school: three black towers and the practice ring. Hills surrounded it, but from above they looked like ripples in a blanket. Beyond the hills were the mountains.

Facing them, Mina felt as if they were calling to her. There was something so wonderfully wild about them. Every road and river in Alorria had been planned with precision to cut through the land in the most direct and pleasing way. Every inch of the farmlands was tamed. Even the sea itself had been curbed within the harbor.

But no one had tamed the mountains.

She liked that—​no one told them who to be. They determined that for themselves.

«I don’t know if I can fly all the way there,» Pixit said apologetically.

And suddenly Mina realized that that was where they had been headed. Her wishing had steered them away from the fields of the school, toward the mountains. Of course. We should head back. I didn’t mean . . . But there was no use pretending to Pixit that she hadn’t been thinking about flying to the mountains, seeing them up close. And seeing what lay beyond.

Sorry, Pixit.

«I wonder what’s out there too.»

They were supposed to be learning to become lightning guardians, not daydreaming about adventuring beyond the border. She thought of her family and how they always said she was so dependable. We’d better turn around.

They flew back to the school, and Mina held tight as Pixit spiraled down toward the practice field. He then folded his wings and smacked onto the ground. «Oof!»

She was jolted forward into the back of his head. “Ow!”

«Sorry.»