Chapter 16 #2
Outside the station, the students fell silent, except for a few hushed giggles, as we raced across the street and poured down the steps, descending to bottomside.
On the lower street, the students clustered around dimly burning lampposts, huddled against the crisp fall air.
There were no automobiles clanking by, no horse-drawn taxis.
Even the vagabonds who normally wandered the streets at this time of night were nowhere to be seen, a fact that was both comforting and alarming.
I tucked Vanya’s duster tighter around my neck.
Energy buzzed in the air, and people fidgeted, switching their weight from foot to foot.
Everyone was dressed as if attending a party, despite the cold and the dark and the distinct stench of Treston’s lower streets.
I hadn’t seen many of the students in clothing besides their uniforms, and my eyes were drawn to the dresses that glittered faintly in the low light.
“This is where the race will start,” said one of the older students from Diamond.
Vanya grabbed my arm and pulled me close. “How can they fit?” she hissed, as if we had to whisper down here.
I glanced up at the stone bridge overhead.
“Oh, you'll see,” said a second year, grinning at us as she walked past.
Someone had painted vulgar images on the foundation stones of the massive building that housed the parliament.
Marks of the gang that ruled this section of Treston.
Most of the students here never had to come down to the lower streets.
Coming down here for a night race, when the streets had mysteriously been cleared of bottomsiders, was probably a thrill for them.
To me, bottomside, too cramped and small for dragons, was home.
I glanced across the road. The narrow alleyway between buildings was a black scar, the buildings too high on both sides to allow the faint moonlight to touch the ground. The crowd of suited young men with their slicked-back hair and the sparkling, beautiful girls were like carrion down here.
My attention snapped to the left as cheers erupted a little farther down the street.
I screamed as a dragon swooped past in the air, its wings brushing the stone wall over my head, its tail dragging deliberately along the cobblestones, bouncing slightly as it sped past. On the dragon’s back, I recognized Shep, his dark skin contrasting with his dragon’s pale scales.
A smile burst across my face as a thrill leaped through my body.
Vanya clapped and cheered along with the rest of the students.
My eyes scanned the space once more where the dragon had passed.
The precision it would take to fly a dragon through a passage this narrow was astounding.
My admiration for Shep quadrupled as his dragon touched down at an intersection up ahead.
Another dragon whooshed by, this one a shining gray. On top sat a girl I didn't recognize. She had red hair tied back in a braid, and she wore golden riding leathers that stood out against the dark night.
“Who's that?” I asked Vanya.
“Her name is Suzanne. She’s a third year. She has high hopes for beating Shep this year and becoming school champion.”
A small scoff escaped my lips.
“Oh, you are more than welcome to cheer for Shep,” she said, elbowing me. “Look,” she hissed.
I whirled around to see Shep approaching, his helmet tucked under one arm. He wore his riding leathers, the school’s navy blue dyed into the fabric. On his chest was the school’s champion pin, a dragon’s outline on a silver triangle.
“I see you dressed to win,” I said.
“Always,” he said with a chuckle. “Glad to see you made it tonight.” He nodded to both of us.
“She can’t wait to see you race,” Vanya said, leaning in, her hand behind my back pushing me forward. I resisted, but she only pushed harder. I stumbled forward. Shep’s arm shot out and grabbed my shoulder.
“Sorry,” I said, stepping back with a murderous glance at Vanya.
She shrugged her shoulders and turned around. “I need to go talk to somebody.” She slipped off into the crowd.
My eyes spun back toward Shep as I pondered how to make Vanya pay for this mortification later. “Your dragon is beautiful.”
Shep smiled and glanced back at her. “She is, isn’t she? Petra is her name. And she’s a fast one.”
“Good luck tonight,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
“Thanks, Ari.” He took a step back toward his dragon, then turned and said, “I’d watch from the bridge on Clover Street. That’s where you’ll see the tightest turn.”
He jogged back toward Petra and climbed up into the saddle like it was as easy as walking up steps.
The way he looked perched in the saddle atop his dragon, so confident, even when his helmet slid on, he seemed like an extension of the dragon.
I closed my eyes, picturing myself riding Myth, and when I opened them, somebody stood beside me, his tall shoulder just brushing my own.
Out of the corner of my eye, I recognized Rushland Covington.
His hands were shoved in his pockets, perhaps to fight off the cold, because Scarlett still wore his blazer. He hadn’t bothered to put on a scarf or hat.
“You could have worn something besides white,” I said. “Or did you want to get caught?”
“Getting caught isn't my concern,” he said.
“Right, because Daddy can bail you out if you get in trouble.”
Air huffed from his nose, and he said in a quiet tone, “I thought you said you wanted sleep?”
“Sleep is for the dead, right?”
“Then I can expect to meet you tomorrow night, same time?”
“Wait, I—” But he walked away without waiting for a reply.
“Rude,” I muttered, moving toward Vanya, who was waving me over.
The noise of the crowd had dropped to a fevered whisper as everyone lined up along the sidewalks.
If I didn’t get more sleep soon, I’d faceplant on my notes in class.
But that was a worry for another day. Now, the race was about to start.
Luther stood with outstretched arms, creating an invisible starting line. Petra danced anxiously beneath Shep. Suzanne climbed into the saddle on her beautiful silver dragon and edged into position.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Luther said. “Welcome to the night races.” Several students hollered and whooped, but Luther lowered his hand and silence fell once more.
Excitement thrummed in my blood. “The race will begin here and move down Clover Street, move up topside on High Street, move back down through Compton, Cistern, and Memorial. The race will make three loops and finish topside, right here.” He raised his right hand and pointed up.
Just above us was the government complex, including the massive building that housed the parliament and the annexes for the high court, the trade bureau, and the tax office I’d had the unfortunate opportunity to visit more than once, begging for mercy.
They had shown no mercy then, and I doubted if we were caught tonight that we would be shown any now.
“If we get caught,” Luther continued, “this race never happened. I was never here.” Several people chuckled.
“You were never here,” he said, pointing at the crowd and spinning around in a circle to indicate all of us.
His gaze snagged on me, but he said nothing as he spun back to extend his arms once more, the makeshift starting line.
“Shep.” Shep nodded. “Suzanne.” She nodded.
“Tonight’s purse is two hundred carands. ”
I sputtered, unable to contain my shock. Several narrow scowls slid toward me, and a few muttered words brought more heat to my cheeks.
“May the best rider win,” Luther said. “On your mark. Get set. Go.” He dropped his arms at his sides, and the dragons were gone before I could even blink, leaving behind a rush of wind that pulled my hair into my face.
Everybody poured down the street now, scattering to watch the race from various angles and vantage points. The sound of wingbeats faded as the dragons vanished around a corner. I ran with the rest of them, blood pounding in my veins. Two hundred carands…
I heard the sound of a snarl and a whimper from up ahead, and several of the boys shouted, “Get her, Shep!”
A few students charged up the steps that led topside, hoping to catch the next section of the race before the dragons passed by. I hurled myself up the steps two at a time, trying to keep up, my dress wadded in my hands.
We took our place along the edge of the bridge overlooking the lower streets.
“There they are!” Someone pointed down the long street.
I squinted into the darkness. If it weren’t for the pale hue of the dragons’ scales, I wouldn't have seen them. Their wings were vertical as they came around the corner of the court building. Suzanne’s dragon clipped the building opposite with the tip of her wing as she righted, then dove.
The two dragons tucked their wings and shot by, dipping below the bridge, directly beneath our feet.
I gasped as a breeze slapped our faces. Vanya covered a quiet scream with both hands.
Then several beats of silence followed as we waited for the dragons to make their second lap. My nerves felt like finely tuned violin strings.
This time, the dragons’ grunting announced their arrival a second before they banked around the turn.
They were clawing at each other, spinning around each other, over and above, dangerously close.
This wasn't like a normal race. The dragons barely had room to spread their wings between the city buildings, and it was all maneuvering, angling, fighting to get the best position.
Suzanne was ahead only by a fraction as they dove beneath us once more.
“This is night racing,” Covington said, taking note of my pinched face. I hadn’t noticed him arrive on the bridge. Scarlett was nowhere in sight, watching from another vantage point, I supposed.
He hurried off down the bridge, and suddenly, we were moving too. The whole group of us was jogging, and I was smiling like a fool, half in a panic and half delighted at the thrill of the race.
Around a corner, standing in the middle of the street, the rest of the crowd was already gathered. This was the finish line. Covington threaded himself into the crowd without a problem, but the rest of us were forced to stand at the back.
“Here they come!”
The dragons shot out from a narrow slit in the bridge we now stood on, popping up with wings beating madly to gain height. Shep’s dragon wasn’t far behind Suzanne’s, but he used the bridge’s railing to push off.
Luther climbed up on the balustrade, arms raised over his head. “Two hundred carands,” he said to us all as we pressed in to watch the end of the race.
People hollered. Despite Luther’s warnings about getting caught, no one here seemed concerned about staying quiet.
The dragons snarled and snapped their jaws, wings beating furiously. I bit my lip so hard I drew blood.
One dragon shot past, then the next.
Shep had won by half a length.
Wind crashed over us, and we were cheering, running, laughing.
A light flared to life in one of the upper windows across the street from the parliament building, where some of the magistrates kept apartments to return to after late nights at work.
“Window,” somebody shouted, pointing up where the light shone.
Instead of silence, a few of the boys cursed loudly, while others whistled as if glad to see they’d woken someone.
“To the train!” hissed a third-year girl, barely containing her giggles.
“Now for the real race,” Prescott said, waving his arms like a shepherd directing sheep.
We turned and ran.