CHAPTER ONE #3
I hated how well she knew me. What I appreciated though was Cam not pushing the point. One of the benefits of her being on the less legal side of the job market was that she knew the value in not asking too many questions.
‘Which one is that anyway?’ Cam nodded at the dragon model.
I turned it round in my hand, letting the heavy metal catch the sun. The green lattice work was so intricate, overlapping to reproduce the scale pattern of the real dragon, now long gone. ‘Ascil.’
‘A classic then.’ It wasn’t a question. She knew as well as I did that she was an all-time great.
Victrolia was the oldest and most decorated team in Volitant racing and this particular dragon had gone on to break records.
It’s why she and her rider, Bach Lotiere, looked down on us from the posters on my walls.
It was entirely possible that the only reason I liked dragons, wyverns and drakes in the first place was so Cam would talk to me.
Our six-year age difference was big enough that I had been a full-time nuisance to her as a kid.
At twenty-three and Cam at twenty-nine I’d been promoted to part-time nuisance.
‘There’s no shame in quitting if you’re not happy there, Lena.’ Another statement from Cam. She was so sure of being right that questions were rarely asked.
‘I’m not quitting.’
‘You could still race. No one would bat an eye at you joining us.’
Us. Cam and the rest of the crew downstairs.
A family she had been building for well over a decade.
They didn’t just bring desserts to the barbecues though, they kept each other’s secrets and had one another’s backs.
When they got caught breaking the law they kept names out of their mouths, especially Cam’s. No, none of them would mind.
Except maybe the city guard, the Wyvern Registry Office and the locals who heard the sharp roars and deep booming of wyvern wings as we raced through the streets at night. Sure, Cam got to race, but it was all done in secret between the various street-racing crews of Gedeinia.
It didn’t matter anyway.
‘I’m not leaving Gottyk.’ That bundle of scales was my last tie to Volitant, not to mention I’d raised him from his egg. ‘I know I won’t get a chance to race, but if I couldn’t even be close to it …’
Our shared passion for winged beasts had sent us in very different directions.
I’d become obsessed with Volitant races when I first saw Bach Lotiere and Ascil fly in the Decennial eighteen years ago.
Ten metallic dragons and their riders from Volitant Forge in the north, ten chromatic dragons and their riders from Volitant Chroma in the south. Eleven races. One winner.
From that moment on all I’d ever wanted was to do the same.
To take the tight corners and high-speed dives on dragonback in front of the cheering crowds.
To fight my teammate neck and neck over the finish line.
I’d been so close to my dream, but all I had to show for it was working on the sidelines.
Cam though, she didn’t need a crowd. So she’d taken a more … entrepreneurial approach. One that involved secret wyvern breeding in the nearby quarry and then racing them illegally for money.
Telling me to leave Volitant Chroma behind was like me telling her to ditch her crew. Impossible.
A small knock sounded on the door. Before I could answer, or even choose not to, it opened.
‘Hey Lena, I brought you some dinner.’ Lynk walked in, brandishing a plate of food stacked with barbecued meat. Cam may have been the only family member I still had around, but the friends she’d gathered over the years were my collective adopted brothers and sisters.
‘Did everyone see me coming home?’ I asked as I accepted the plate. The ribs had been smothered in sauce and the smell was quickly erasing my annoyance at him barging in.
‘I told you,’ said Cam, pushing herself up. ‘Room for improvement.’
I mimicked her, wobbling my head and going high-pitched as I repeated her favourite phrase back. Still, I dug into the food, pleased to be home despite the criticisms.
Cam ruffled my hair as she passed me, forcing Lynk to back up out of the room as she went.
‘Lena, feel free to come down and get more if you want some,’ Lynk fussed, calling over Cam’s shoulder, his chattering getting quieter as he was shooed away by my sister.
‘We’re here if you need us.’ Cam looked at me with her usual serious expression. I knew she was offering more than just barbecue food, but neither of us would say it out loud.
‘I know,’ I replied, tearing into a rib while still sitting on the floor. As feral as she’d raised me to be.
She turned to leave.
‘Close the door!’
It creaked slightly, stopping ajar as she left.
I sighed and looked at the dragon replica, then up at the posters on the walls.
Champions from the colourful history of Volitant looked down at me.
I was glad of Cam’s support, but wished I had an opportunity to use it.
All I needed was a chance to prove myself and I’d end up on one of the posters too.