24
Asta woke up with a start. There were people in the room, standing over her.
‘She’s awake!’ said one of them. ‘Go.’
Asta came to the hazy realization that the person who had spoken was Yixin.
Before she could make sense of this fact, a rattling, tinkling sound filled the air, soon accompanied by what sounded like a spoon hitting the side of a mug tunelessly.
As Asta’s eyes cleared of sleep, she saw that was exactly what it was.
The spoon and the mug were both held by Gem, and his face was twisted with deep focus as he tapped out a jaunty rhythm.
Yixin was holding a second mug with her hand over the top, shaking it like a maraca.
‘It’s Race Day,’ Yixin exclaimed in a forced whisper in rhythm with the percussion.
‘Race Day!’ Gem echoed in the same tone.
Together, they whisper-chanted, ‘Running down the track, yay!’
Yixin again. Her voice a little louder. ‘Race Day!’
Gem, following suit. ‘Race Day!’
‘Get out of the way, hey!’ They began to sway back and forth.
‘What is happening?’ Asta asked Carmine, who had popped his head through the hatch in the wall. The chant had reached a fever pitch.
‘Race Day!’
‘Race Day!’
‘Wake up, Asta, wake up, Carmy! We’re your special race alarmy!’
Asta couldn’t help but laugh. ‘You guys are so stupid.’
Yixin and Gem concluded their performance in a mania of percussion so loud that Carmine pulled his head back through the hatch with a scolding little bark. Asta covered her ears until they stopped.
‘Race Day!’ they said together and spread their hands in a frozen pose, as if expecting applause.
Asta humored them with a few feeble claps. ‘Very impressive.’
‘Thank you!’ Yixin said. ‘Oh, here’s your vitamins.’ She handed Asta the mug she had been using.
Asta eyed the pile of pills in the bottom of the mug warily. ‘So you two just came up with this little ditty on the fly?’
Gem shook his head soberly. ‘Oh, no. We’ve been practicing outside for the last hour. It took Yixin a while to keep the pills inside the mug. She has little hands.’
‘Those all went on the ground,’ Yixin added.
Asta fished a pebble out from their midst. ‘So I see.’
‘Good for digestion,’ Yixin assured Asta. She raised her eyebrows at Gem.
Asta’s stomach was, in fact, feeling rather sour, but she did not think it had anything to do with her digestion. As Gem and Yixin had so exuberantly reminded her, it was race day.
She had tossed and turned all night trying to figure out what she was going to do, but there did not seem to be a good option. If she did what Hummer wanted, she would end the day a disappointment to everyone, including herself. If she didn’t, the consequences were unthinkable.
Could she ask Felix to help her? But he would never throw a race. He would want her to go to Flávia. Whether he liked it or not, he had become the Seraphin champion his parents had always dreamed of, and the reality he lived in had no place for what she knew she had to do.
She had seen what Hummer had tried to do to Pikki.
The man could make all the jokes he wanted about her so-called promotion, but he wouldn’t hesitate to punish Asta if she failed.
And Felix. He’d made that very clear. She really would have to do what he asked.
What she wouldn’t give for one of those sedatives they gave Carmine last spring when he had a tooth pulled.
That would knock Essie right out. Maybe she could tamper with Felix’s gear instead.
But what if someone found it and fixed it before he went out – or worse, what if they didn’t, and he got hurt?
If only she had more time, she could come up with a solution to everything.
But it was race day.
‘Hey, you ever getting out of bed?’ Gem called to Asta. He and Yixin had migrated to the kitchen where they were laughing at each other doing dramatic readings of the corny promotional copy printed on Gem’s box of granola bars. ‘Your reporter person is going to be here soon.’
Asta looked at the clock. ‘I’m up,’ she said, and swung her legs out of bed.
She had barely gotten dressed and put her hair into a long braid when the knock came on the door. Asta found Allie Vorajee standing on the sidewalk outside, their cheeks pink with the cold morning.
‘Come on in,’ Asta said. After the near-tie with Basma, Gem had fielded a dozen requests for interviews, but Asta was insistent: she would only talk to Allie at the Tower Review.
If Asta did end up sabotaging Felix and getting caught, at least Allie would have an exclusive interview with the villain of the century.
Something like that could make a career.
Someone ought to come out of this mess ahead.
Allie bustled through the door, their nervous energy filling the room like butterflies.
‘This is really nice,’ they said, glancing from one end of the suite and back again with rapid, jerky twists of the head.
‘It’s so funny, though, how the color scheme is so drab, right?
Black and gray, black and gray. Would it kill them to use a little color?
Oh! But the flowers are nice.’ They darted over to the counter and greeted Gem and Yixin.
‘Hi, I’m Allie Vorajee, the Tower.’ They held up their badge. ‘Are you Gem?’
Gem shook their hand. ‘That’s me.’
Yixin took her turn. ‘Wang Yixin – Dragon Medical.’
‘Oh, wow!’ Allie said, moving over and shaking Yixin’s hand. ‘That must be such a cool job. I’d love to do a story on it. Can I give you my card?’
‘You want to interview me?’ Yixin was delighted.
‘Please say yes. It would be so much fun. I could follow you around during a race.’
Yixin clapped her hands. ‘I can show you the big needles we use for suturing. Dragon skin is very tough.’
‘Big needles are perfect!’ Allie whirled on one heel. ‘Now, where do you want to be, Asta?’
Asta was caught off guard at the speed with which the conversation shifted back to her. She directed Allie to the chairs by the door, and Allie busied themself with setting up their recorder on the glass side table and fetching their notebook and pen out of a canvas bag.
‘We’re heading out, Asta,’ Gem said before another gush of chatter poured forth from Allie. ‘Somebody wants a corndog at this ungodly hour.’ He jabbed a thumb at Yixin.
Yixin attempted a look of innocence. ‘They keep selling out before I get one. Not today.’
‘See you at the drake finals?’ Gem asked Asta, his hand bracing the half-opened door.
‘I’m not sure. I might just hang out here, study the course, get my head clear.’
‘Okay. You know how to find me.’ And Gem and Yixin slipped out the door with a wave.
Allie was ready. They turned their bright face up to Asta and gestured to the other chair, as if Asta was the guest.
‘So, Asta,’ Allie began, ‘tell me everything. How did you get your start?’
Asta told Allie about growing up in Medley – the creek and the lightning bugs, the old oak in the upper fields, the chores she tried to get out of by any possible means.
‘And Felix Seraphin was your neighbor?’
‘The Seraphins set up a stud farm on the property across the road when I was thirteen. It was the first time I had ever seen a dragon in real life. Up until then, I had only read about them in books or seen them on TV. My family are farmers. Always have been. They don’t think much of dragons.
A waste of good farmland, my dad would say. ’
‘That’s so interesting! So they don’t approve?’
Asta thought of their last conversation – the way they had talked so lovingly about Leif but had only warnings for her.
‘They’re good people. They try to be supportive. Dragon racing just doesn’t make any sense to them.’
‘So why do you think you ended up a racer and not . . . something else?’ Allie looked at Asta with an eager expression, their pen poised to take notes.
‘When I’m riding,’ Asta said, ‘there is nothing else. It’s just me and Carmine and the track.
’ At the mention of his name, Carmine poked his head through the hatch, startling Allie into a laugh.
‘Hey, buddy. I’m talking about you.’ Carmine churred, and Asta continued.
‘Every course is different, so I’m in constant conversation with Carmine.
We have our own language, almost. Whatever comes at us, we figure it out together. ’
‘You really have to trust each other,’ Allie said.
Asta paused. ‘Yes, we trust each other. Isn’t that right?’ she asked Carmine. The dragon sneezed. ‘Bless you.’
‘So,’ Allie said, smiling. ‘The Grand Prix! How has your experience at Silverscale differed from previous tournaments?’
Asta laughed, but she didn’t answer right away.
Allie waited.
‘Can I tell you something off the record?’
‘Sure.’ Allie touched a button on the recorder. ‘What is it?’
‘I hate it.’ The words were out before she could stop them.
Allie looked surprised. They put their notebook down and listened.
Asta focused her eyes on the opposite wall, hoping it might help steady her.
‘Silverscale has been my obsession since I was twelve. I built it up as this pinnacle – like it would prove something about me, and I could finally be happy – but the only time I’ve really been happy since I got here was when I forgot where I was.
’ Asta took a deep breath. ‘I love riding, but I’m starting to wonder if I still love racing.
‘Being here is so much pressure, you know? It’s not healthy.
I’m injured. I should be healing. But I can’t, because it feels like I’ll be a failure if the next race doesn’t go exactly right and then the next one and the next one.
’ Would it ever stop? ‘I wish I didn’t have to race today.
I wish I didn’t have to race ever again. ’
‘What would you do instead?’ Allie asked gently.
‘What do you mean?’
‘If you didn’t race, what would you do?’
It was an impossible question.