CHAPTER THREE
It was going to be worse than usual. After the mess in the main thoroughfare I knew Thorne would still be pissed off. Part of me betrayed my team loyalty and hoped that the whispers I’d heard in the briefing came true and he’d just not shown up at all.
The heavy closing thud of the aviary door echoed through my chest. My eyes jerked from one side of the room to the other, expecting him to be waiting for me.
The workshop bench where Gottyk’s augments should have been laid out had been taken over with empty bottles. My nose wrinkled at the smell. Thorne’d started drinking before the race, not even waiting until after.
My hands flexed as I went to tidy his mess. I cast a glance over to Gottyk. The poor boy seemed on edge, pawing at the copper pellets as if I hadn’t cleaned them that morning.
I swept the bottles into the waste crate. Each clatter of glass and whiff of alcohol sent my heartbeat up a notch. There were enough empty bottles here to get anyone far beyond the ability to fly, let alone race.
‘So incompetent you can’t even clean quietly.’ It was Thorne. Between my rage and the noise of his mess I hadn’t even heard him coming.
I continued cleaning, getting the race augments back in order so I could fit them to Gottyk’s saddle. My hands worked automatically, letting me fall into the familiar pattern.
As I untangled the copper wires Thorne’s footsteps scuffed the smooth stone floor. When he next spoke I could smell the fumes on his breath.
‘Get out of my way.’ He wasn’t slurring his words. As much as I wanted to vanish in that moment, to escape his attention, my first thought was that he didn’t sound drunk.
I stepped back and forced myself to look at him. He braced one hand on the workbench, leaning towards me. There was tension in his shoulders. The tendons of his neck stood out just from trying to stand still.
My hands flexed and closed into fists. It didn’t do anything to stop the shaking that began in my legs. I wasn’t in a position to consider if it was fear or anger, let alone grab on to a coherent thought.
So I did what I knew best. I swept up the nearest augment to start prepping Gottyk for the race.
My limbs felt traitorously stiff and awkward.
He met me at the low wall that surrounded his stall.
I was only as tall as his shoulder, so he lowered his head and neck down for me, his big snout nudging my face.
His nostrils flared open from their usual thin slits, sending a wash of hot air at me as he huffed. I uncurled my free hand and patted the side of his sweet scaly face, my palm mottled in red and white patches.
Thorne tossed the contents of the bench aside, the bronze plates sending ringing echoes around the aviary, before digging through the waste crate.
‘Where is it?’ He gave up on his search and spun, spitting his words out towards me.
My heart leapt at his voice. I ducked on instinct, shrinking away from him. My knuckles whitened around the augment I’d taken. A jagged, colourless piece of arcanite, a mess of copper wire and a modified pain-relief augment. I realized what it was.
Before I had the chance to think better of it, I looked back up at Thorne. I could tell my mouth had dropped open and my eyes were wide, but I couldn’t control my shock.
‘Give it to me!’ He strode towards me, staggering, hand outstretched.
His wrist extended out of his sleeve, showing the red welts that confirmed exactly what I thought the augment was. Now I knew.
Thorne wasn’t just drinking. He was using raw arcanite augments on himself.
I backed away. Thorne would be risking more than his own life, he would be risking Gottyk’s. Deep inside, beyond the hollow darkness I’d been living with, I could feel heat building.
‘No.’ My feet planted deep in the copper pellets.
Thorne stumbled to a stop at the entrance of the stall.
‘What did you say?’ His voice rasped, sounding as intense as his bloodshot eyes looked. ‘You think you can say no to me? I can get rid of you any time I want. You’re here because I enjoy seeing you put in your place, little girl!’
My jaw trembled, so I clamped it shut. I fought against all of the rising fear and looked at Gottyk. His big brown eyes watched me in return, the ridged scales arching above them making him look so innocently surprised. I couldn’t let Thorne hurt him.
‘Pathetic.’
His words didn’t hit as hard as usual. I wasn’t protecting myself this time.
‘I wasn’t just talking about you. You’re nothing, that would be too easy.’ Thorne came closer, grinning enough to flash his uncannily white teeth. ‘One word to Moss and I can get rid of the beast too.’
He placed a hand on Gottyk. My dragon flinched.
I erupted.
My feet skidded on the copper pellets as I ducked low. I twisted and slammed into Thorne’s stomach. He doubled over, letting out a gasp of air.
He grabbed at me, losing his balance. I hit down on his arm to break his grip. He crashed back on to the pellets, scrambling.
I placed my boot on his chest, putting all of my weight into pinning him down.
‘Every day you have tormented me, every opportunity to make me feel small, you took it. I don’t know why you’re like this, and I don’t care.’
Behind me Gottyk was pacing, his deep growls vibrated my bones.
‘I put up with it,’ I continued, leaning over so my face hovered above his. ‘I let it happen. Do you know why, Thorne?’
His face contorted with rage, his bloodshot eyes bulged.
‘Because of him.’ I nodded to Gottyk. ‘You made a mistake today. You touched my dragon.’
‘Get off me, you bitch!’ Spittle flew from his mouth.
The ground fell out from under me. The back of my knee stung with pain. Thorne had knocked me down. I went sprawling across the pellets, sliding to a stop at the wall.
Thorne was up already, standing over me with a horrid smile. ‘Stay down, like the animal you are.’ He brought a leg back and swung it towards me, his foot coming straight at my face.
A flash of orange. He was gone.
My ears rang with the echoes of Gottyk’s roar.
Copper pellets trickled out of the creases of my jumpsuit as I stood, bracing myself against the wall. Unsteady, I approached Thorne. He didn’t move.
Gottyk’s hot breath went down my neck as he hovered behind me. Still, a shiver went down my spine.
‘Is he dead?’
Gottyk huffed, turned away and started kicking pellets towards Thorne’s limp form.
‘Gottyk!’ I hated Thorne too, but burying him in metal didn’t seem like the best solution.
Grimacing, I placed a hand under Thorne’s nose – slow and shallow, but still breathing. I crouched back on the balls of my feet and ran my hands over my face.
‘Shit.’ My voice came out muffled.
I watched Thorne for a moment, rendered harmless by one whip of Gottyk’s tail. It had happened so quickly. There was no blaming Gottyk. He’d only done what I had been about to do and for the same reason. We’d just been looking out for one another.
‘I don’t suppose you’d help me move him?’ I looked up at my giant orange protector. His big brown eyes merely blinked at me, the innocent look at odds with the fangs poking out of his mouth.
I heaved under Thorne’s armpits to lie him down and out of the slump he’d fallen into.
The least I could do was not have him die.
I’d lose both my job and my freedom if that happened.
As I moved him his head lolled to the side and his sleeves scrunched up, revealing the extent of the augments he’d been using.
The red welts didn’t stop at his wrist. They tracked up his forearm and disappeared under the rest of his shirt. Each one was a place he’d attached the augment to himself too many times and then needed a fresh start.
It was similar to the ones the med team used, but the arcanite wasn’t refined.
I’d never been interested in augments beyond what they did for racing, but that was enough to know that cut arcanite had a dribble of power compared to the waterfall of raw ones.
The med team’s version let arcanite residue flow through the copper device, numbing the nerves of the riders while they got stitched up.
Used casually and sparingly it was seen as a hobby, though a taboo one for athletes. Yet the one Thorne had wanted back was strong enough to power a small home for a week.
The stone was dim inside, the power almost spent. It would likely be a while before he regained any kind of consciousness. I dragged my hands down my face.
I forced myself to stand up and patted Gottyk’s nose. ‘Looks like your race is over before it starts, buddy. I’m not sure how we’re getting ourselves out of this.’
He watched me with those big, soft eyes. The warm orange scales of his muzzle bumped into my shoulder.
‘What?’
His tail lashed to and fro, scattering the pellets around his stall. He bumped me again, then looked over my shoulder.
I followed his gaze to the other side of the room where Thorne had left a mess of augments and bottles on the workbench.
‘Wha—’ Then I realized.
He was looking at Thorne’s flight suit.
I couldn’t pull myself away. The idea latched on. His armour. His helmet. We were the same size. I knew his racing style. I would be on the same dragon. There would be no reason for anyone to think it wasn’t him.
No one would know.
My neck creaked, stiff and tense, as I looked down at Thorne on the floor. There was no reason to hesitate. No one ever paused when it came to taking from me. My mind raced faster than a plummeting dragon, but none of it included a reason to not steal Thorne’s identity and race in Volitant.
It’s not like his condition would change in the next hour … probably.
‘Let’s do this.’
I strode over to the case of armour, my breath fogging up the glass as I looked at it like it was the first time. Up until this moment it had been Thorne’s suit. Now though it was mine.