26
‘But if that ranking still stands by this time tomorrow,’ one announcer had said last night as the television played and replayed the footage first of Asta rappelling down the canyon wall to steal the beacon, then of Carmine flying through the ghoul-adorned arch at the finish line, ‘I will eat my hat.’
‘I don’t know, Vern,’ the other chuckled. ‘I hope you have a taste for hats. This is an incredible test of the rules of this sport. It looks to me like she was tethered to the dragon.’
‘What was that, though? That wasn’t a standard tether. It had to be an illusion.’
‘So you say, but illusions can’t do that, can they?’
‘Well, it was something sketchy, I’ll tell you that. And we’re not even talking about the fact that Ekenberg stole a beacon off the course. That cannot be legal.’
‘Show me where it says you can’t do that in the rulebook.’
‘Well, it shouldn’t be legal.’
‘That’s a different conversation, my friend. This is exactly how you know this rider has been training with Hummer Bruce. If there’s a rule in the rulebook today, it’s because a Bruce broke it before it existed.’
‘I don’t like it, Monty.’
‘You don’t have to like it, Vern, but I will tell you this: we will never see another Grand Prix like this as long as we live. That was something else, wasn’t it?’
Asta hadn’t meant for there to be any doubt.
She was supposed to have been disqualified immediately.
Nat would win, and Hummer would deny he had anything to do with that cheating so-and-so, Asta Ekenberg, just like Karol had promised.
The prize money should evaporate her debt to him, and she would no longer be useful to him as a saboteur or anything else. That was the plan.
But now she was cowering in bed with the TV on, nursing a torn hamstring, hoping against hope that she hadn’t won the Silverscale Grand Prix.
Gem was out, trying to get more information on what their options were. She had told him as much as she could without implicating Felix. She had told him about Hummer, about the money she owed him, about Pikki.
‘I knew he was bad news, Asta. I should have warned you.’
Asta had tried to argue with him. ‘You did. Everyone did. I could have listened, you know. You don’t have to fix this for me.’
But she was scared. Scared that if she opened the door, Hummer would be on the other side.
Or Flávia Gameiro. Or the police. Or somebody.
She kept the door locked and the shades down.
It would have been smarter, she thought upon reflection, to hide out in someone else’s room.
But who did she have at this point that would shelter her?
She imagined Felix in his own room, rewriting his story of her once again. After all this, it turned out she was the kind of person who would risk other people’s lives for her own ends. She was the kind of person who helped an evil man become more powerful, just to save her own skin.
And his, though Felix did not know that.
She had tried to protect him yesterday. She had tried to warn him.
But she had almost failed catastrophically.
If Essie hadn’t caught herself . . . the thought was agony.
Asta was as much a threat to Felix as anyone.
For his own sake, he should stay as far away from her as possible.
Asta had offered no defense last night when she was called before the NFDRA board. Flávia had been irate. Asta just nodded and waited for the words that would tell her that she was free.
But to her amazement, Tess Curie had stood and spoken for her.
‘You can’t change the rules after the fact. That ain’t fair.’
‘We’re not changing the rules, Tess. The cut from below on Seraphin was a clear violation.’
‘And she sat the penalty.’
‘She used the time to alter the course,’ said another board member, an old man with wiry eyebrows and a folded handkerchief in his pocket. ‘That kind of interference flies in the face of gentlemanly competition.’
Tess snorted. ‘Too bad she ain’t a gentleman.
’ There were a few titters of laughter at this.
‘I’ll give it to you, Roy: it was a dirty move.
’ Tess shot Asta a disagreeable look. ‘But that’s what they said about spikes the first time they showed up.
Now, everybody’s got ’em. We can say it ain’t allowed.
We can say it is. But until we make that call, you can’t punish her for it. ’
Flávia had shaken her head stubbornly. ‘This is all semantics. The fact is, she came off her dragon.’ Her tone made it sound as if the matter was settled, and Asta had breathed a little sigh of relief.
Tess sighed, too. ‘We decided this last year, woman. Attached means legal. She was on the dragon. Technically.’
‘But what was the substance of her attachment?’ Dr. Isley had asked.
Tess had been unmoved. ‘Who gives a shit? You saw her. She was swinging around like a dingleberry. She was fucking attached.’
‘The rules stipulate an attachment by tether,’ Dr. Isley had replied, his finger marking the spot in his rulebook. ‘I, for one, would like to inspect the item to ascertain whether it is a tether.’
‘Asta?’ Flávia had said, looking at her expectantly. ‘May we see the tether you were using?’
But Felix had already released the magic by then, and Asta had nothing to show.
‘Where did you get it?’ Dr. Isley pressed.
‘Someone made it for me,’ Asta had answered, but she refused to tell them who. Let him be spared this, at least.
Flávia had sent everyone home well after midnight. The board members would reconvene in the morning and deliberate. A press conference would be called to announce the winners by ten o’clock. The award ceremony would be held, as planned, at noon.
The press conference was going to start in a few minutes.
Huddled under the blankets, Asta listened to strangers debating her choices, condemning and defending her in choreographed turns.
She wanted to wake Carmine up to keep her company, but his gentle snoring on the other side of the wall was its own kind of comfort.
The sound of Gem’s key card in the door drew Asta’s attention away from the TV. The door swung open, letting in the too bright light of outside, making Asta wince. Gem entered with Asta’s parents behind him.
Asta’s mother rushed to her in the bed and threw her arms around her.
‘Oh, you’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay. Oh, thank god.’
‘What are you doing here?’ Asta asked, embracing her mother and meeting her father’s eyes over her shoulder in the dim light of the room.
Linden Ekenberg pressed his lips together in an expression that told Asta nothing. Maeve leaned back from the hug and inspected the parts of Asta that she could see. She poked at the ice pack bandaged to Asta’s purple-bruised thigh like a nurse checking her patient.
‘Are you really alright, honey?’
‘Mama, I’m fine.’
‘We were so worried after your accident in that first race, and then you almost crashed with Felix – you scared the living daylights out of me, Asta.’
‘And that landing on the mountain,’ Linden added, shaking his head. ‘That didn’t feel good, I bet.’
Asta looked back and forth between them. ‘Wait, you guys watched the races?’
‘Of course!’ Maeve seemed genuinely shocked at the question. ‘Uncle Carl and Aunt Leona came over. And Grandma and Grandpop.’
Asta almost laughed out loud imagining them all in the farmhouse, gathered around the TV. ‘But you hate dragon racing,’ she said to her father.
‘You should have seen him and Grandpop, Asta,’ Maeve interrupted before he could answer. ‘Shouting at the TV, jumping up and down. And with his back, too. If anyone has dragon fever, it’s your father.’ She smoothed her slacks with satisfaction.
Gem put his arm around his uncle’s shoulder, a proud grin on his face. ‘Our girl’s not bad, right?’
‘She was the best one,’ Linden said, quite sincerely. A boyish light flashed in his eyes. ‘How did you do that thing with the rope?’
But before Asta could answer, Gem pointed to the television, and they all turned.
Flávia Gameiro was stepping up to the microphone for the press conference.
Linden sat on the edge of Gem’s bed. Maeve turned to face the screen mounted on the wall, but she grabbed hold of her daughter’s hand.
Gem turned away and began to pace the room.
‘After the unprecedented events that took place during yesterday’s championship race for the Silverscale Grand Prix, the National Federation of Dragon Racing Authorities board members held an emergency meeting to determine what, if any, disciplinary measures should be taken against competitors in the race and to what extent this would impact the results.
Following a thorough and spirited debate, we have disqualified the presumptive winner of the race, Asta Ekenberg, for the possession and use of unauthorized racing equipment, for the improper use of the racecourse, and for knowingly endangering her competitors.
This will result in a lifetime ban from all NFDRA competitions from this day forward.
’ Asta’s mother gasped and squeezed Asta’s hand.
A chill ran over Asta’s body. A lifetime ban.
She had expected a fine. Probation. Maybe a year’s suspension.
Not this. She had aimed to make herself a pariah but not an exile.
It was as if someone had heard what she said to Allie Vorajee and was holding her to it, but she wanted to tell them that she didn’t mean it.
She didn’t hate racing. It was everything to her.
Please, please not this.
But Flávia was still talking.
‘Additional questions have been raised about the quality of the track itself, and while no formal tampering charges are being brought against Ms. Ekenberg at this time, an investigation is forthcoming.’
Asta’s parents turned to look at her. She shook her head. ‘I didn’t do anything to the track.’ She felt sick.