CHAPTER FOUR
Blending in while racing was going to be easy compared to making it to the circuit in disguise.
Dozens of people flowed down the tunnels to the launch zones, clustered in their team colours.
Usually I was with them, invisibly leading Gottyk along by the reins as Thorne brooded on dragonback.
Now I was the one in the saddle and I could feel watchful eyes crawling along my skin.
The Kiestral strategists hustled alongside Gottyk, refining the plans now we knew my launch position. The numbers from the morning briefing had entirely vanished from my memory, making it all useless despite me knowing the code names.
My heart rate picked up as the arcanists checked Gottyk’s augments. I watched, fixated, as their busy hands came close to my legs as they checked the saddle, as if they could tell from the way my feet twitched that I wasn’t Thorne. They kept their eyes down.
Ignoring the team was the best option, as much as I wanted to ask them to explain it all again – to take the numbers they were referring to and turn them into something comprehensible.
My stomach twisted as Bach pulled up alongside us on Rosinder, Gottyk’s sister, slowed by those in front. I couldn’t help but stare at him, level with one another as we rode twin dragons. When I’d stolen the suit I hadn’t considered that it would mean racing my hero.
He looked at me, helmet on but faceplate up, his expression lit by the same white arcanite that filled my own helmet. The sides of his mouth turned down, warping his thick stubble. He looked away and didn’t acknowledge me further for the rest of the long walk to the circuit.
In my head I knew it was because he thought I was Thorne, but my heart still dropped. At Rosinder’s side Josie also looked me up and down, then glanced at Gottyk’s head … then back at me.
There was no way she knew. She was probably noticing that I, Lena the keeper, wasn’t there. My hands began to sweat. There was no way she knew. She’d never paid attention to me before and there was no reason to start now.
All I had to do was hold my head high. I wasn’t Lena anymore, I was a conceited prick who thought – no, knew – that everyone was jealous.
That no one was good enough for me to respect.
For the first time I thanked Thorne for being the way he was – it was making stealing his dragon, identity and race easier than anticipated.
‘Comms check.’
The straps around my waist went taut as I jumped at Hector’s voice. It had been a long time since I’d had someone on communications inside my helmet. Hector himself would be back in the Kiestral briefing room by now, wearing the paired augment over one ear while poring over sheets of numbers.
I tapped the side of my helmet to open the return comms and grunted. I’d seen and heard plenty of snippets from Thorne’s comms during the public casts. He was even more blunt and terse than he was in person.
Josie and Bach turned left down a wide tunnel, heading off to their launch zone. I continued on, falling into place behind a Prevere blue and Ballenir purple. Ninety-nine was painted on the wing of the blue dragon: Colly Balen. On the purple, number seven: Theo.
My nose wrinkled. Of course he still flew with the number seven. I’d picked eight in my first drake race, so he’d gone one better.
The vibrant blue number stood out on the purple wing among the sponsor logos for ArcLite Power, Lunar Trust Holding and, of course, Swift Soap Hair.
Ballenir may have only been competing for five years, but unlike most fresh teams they weren’t strapped for cash.
They were also Theo’s home team. He was likely having the time of his life flying for them, getting paid more for a single race than I made in a year as a keeper.
Nerves were no longer a problem. Even just the back of Theo’s head was enough to rile me. His thick dark waves bounced as he joked with Colly beside him. The only way to make him shut up was to have him sit on his hands.
Colly tossed his head back in laughter. He was wearing his helmet, but had the faceplate fully raised. For a rookie going into his sixth ever Volitant race, he was remarkably relaxed. Maybe it was the comfort of knowing it wasn’t his last race.
This was it for me, my one and only chance.
Even if I managed to make it through unnoticed, there was still Thorne to deal with when I returned.
So I was going to make the most of it. I may not have been able to laugh like Colly, to show my face like Theo or to be as assured as Bach, but I would fly all the same.
The boys turned left next, Colly first and then Theo. I watched them go, safe behind my faceplate. Still, Theo turned and saw me. His pompous smile disappeared. He glanced down at Gottyk, then back to me. It took all of my self-control to not flip him off.
I nudged Gottyk at the next left, turning down a winding tunnel to see the waterfall from a whole new perspective. The giddiness I usually felt watching the rider and dragon launch from here was nowhere to be found.
Moss had likely explained during the briefing how much water-crushing power I was about to feel, but it wouldn’t change the fact that Gottyk and I would be pushed down before we had a chance to fly.
Water thundered past the opening in the side of the cliff, intercepting the light that tried to stream in to cast energetic ripples across the tunnel walls and floor. The noise should have been drowning everything out, but once again the advanced helmet augments kicked in to reduce it.
Gottyk lined up on the lip of the launch zone, his front left foot gripping the edge as I angled him to the right. We’d be shooting downwards the moment the starting flare boomed outside.
‘One minute to launch.’ Hector had lost any hint of nerves from his voice, becoming unnervingly neutral.
I was used to something more uplifting. It may have been five years since I last raced, but a decade of pre-race rituals in the junior series didn’t just disappear.
Fast and fair.
As much as the words were unbidden they were even more unwelcome. My fingers grazed against the racing number painted on to my helmet. I felt hollow inside as the seconds crept by without the familiar mantra being spoken aloud, even though they had turned out to be a lie.
‘Ten seconds to launch.’
I closed my eyes and took a long, deep breath. My ankles could feel Gottyk’s chest expand and contract as he did the same. I matched my next breath to his and leaned forward, getting into position. I reopened my eyes and every feeling washed away. Emotions could come back later.
There was no telltale hiss of the flare from beyond the waterfall, but a faint red light trailed upwards all the same. Then it bloomed. A single small pop made it through the sound of crashing water.
Gottyk catapulted us forwards.
My bones shook as my flight suit absorbed as much of the waterfall’s force as it could. I barely avoided slamming my face into Gottyk’s shoulder blades as I was pushed down in the saddle. His wings tucked in tight around my legs, turning him into an arrow of orange scales to pierce the water.
After a split second of chaos the sky opened up around us. If I’d had any breath left it would have been taken away by the view.
All around the lip of the canyon basin were the grandstands full of people. Their bright jewel-coloured clothes pulled the focus of my visor. A new lens seamlessly shifted into place, focusing my vision hundreds of feet away across the basin.
Looking up at them as we plummeted down was my first mistake.
My vision was horrifically blurred when I looked back to the circuit. Flashes of colour from the other dragons merged, leaving me with no idea of who to chase or avoid. The visor shifted again, but it didn’t stop my gut from lurching.
My suit began buzzing to the left of my lower back.
‘Already?’ I muttered to myself.
The light vibrations in the lower back of my suit were letting me know that there was a dragon and rider just behind us to the left. I fought the urge to check. I’d never flown with proximity sensor augments before, but I knew better than to twist my neck while flying at high speed.
I urged Gottyk onwards to the gap in the cliff wall that led to the rest of the circuit. If whoever was behind me kept pace, we’d be fighting for a gap only big enough for one dragon – and not at full wingspan either.
I pulled back on the reins, enough pressure for Gottyk to level out. We’d gained speed from the plummet but we’d need to save some height for the move through the gap. His wings caught the wind and we surged over the air pockets at a far slower speed.
The proximity sensor increased its intensity. Without training in the suit all I knew was that they’d closed the gap. Gottyk pumped his wings and the basin wall approached at a rapid pace. I’d watched this race enough times to know my options.
I crossed each side of the reins over and tugged.
Gottyk tilted his head to the side. His neck followed, then his spine and tail.
In just a moment we were flying sideways, dramatically reducing our width from forty feet to under eight.
I ducked, despite there being more than enough room as we swept through the gap.
Purple flashed underneath us. The proximity sensors in my boots went wild, unsettling my feet from the stirrups. The other dragon had overtaken us while pulling the same sideways move.
Theo. I grunted out my frustration. He’d launched from the zone just behind us and had managed to pick up more speed to this first choke point.
I spewed some foul language in his honour.
‘Drop to P6.’ The comms came through loud and clear. Less than thirty seconds into the race and I’d gone from fifth place to sixth.
Theo’s overtake woke up every nerve in my body. It was like I’d been asleep for years, walking through life slow and stagnant. Not anymore.
Theo may have gone ahead, but there was a whole race in front of us to determine who would win and lose.
I had Gottyk push hard as we wove through the first lap.
The tall yellow cliffs only had enough space for two dragons to fly side by side at most, making the space above and below seem infinite in comparison.
Before we reached the lake basin again the circuit split into three branches: long, medium and short routes.
Hector chimed in right on time. ‘Arsenal available on the long route.’
What I was trading for time by taking the long route I would gain back later. I lowered Gottyk down to the river on the canyon floor and skimmed the water. Above us the cliff walls narrowed, casting us into gloom and claustrophobia. We wouldn’t be able to pull up for a while.
Luckily what I was looking for wasn’t up, it was down. I let Gottyk determine the pace and manoeuvring while I scanned the edges of the riverbank. The exact location changed every year, but the rules kept the basics the same.
There it was – the first arsenal. A weapon cache stowed away behind a set of boulders, the hilts poking up into the air the only clue to its hidden location.
I loosened the straps holding me to the saddle and leaned to the right, giving myself more and more slack as I drifted as close as I could to Gottyk’s belly.
We zoomed past the arsenal. My hand slapped against a hilt at ninety miles per hour. It stung. Even with the armour and flight suit to reduce the impact my eyes started to water. I clung on to it, grasping the light metal shaft in my gloved hand as I hauled myself upright with the other.
Gottyk took us around a bend in the canyon, banking gently and scraping the tip of his left wing against the river surface. Trusting him to take us forward I looked down at the weapon. A long, light piece of bronze metal with an uncoloured arcanite set at one end. No blade. Not yet.
Memories of the Wyvern Cup came flooding back to me at the feel of the weapon in my hand.
No amount of training with sticks in the garden could replace the real thing.
I longed to set the arcanite the way I used to, but Thorne was a specialist. If there was anything I could do to convince everyone I was him, it was this.
I rotated the arcanite to the fifth notch. I felt the connection in my gloves snap into place. I held my right arm out, angling the hilt parallel with Gottyk’s right wing. Then I pressed down on the arcanite.
An orange flicker of light lit the weapon’s arcanite, siphoning the power from my suit. A long line of bright light burst from the hilt, spilling outwards. So bright that my visor dimmed to compensate.
The Kiestral orange light formed into a solid greatsword blade. It left a trailing after-image in the air, dancing behind us as we flew.
Gottyk let out a trumpet. I couldn’t help but smile too. It may not have been my first choice, but wielding a three-foot-long blade in the iconic orange of my home team sure felt good. It would cut through the incoming obstacles all the same.
‘The second Victrolia and Prevere have gone ahead. You are P8.’
Frustration boiled inside. I blew a hot breath out through my nose and tried to focus.
Only one of the two other routes had arsenals and not enough for all ten riders. Having a weapon before lap two began was an advantage in itself. Those going without would be slowed dramatically and the real race would begin.
Finally, the canyon opened up above us to rejoin the main circuit.
‘Prepare for arcan engagement.’
I smiled and placed the long hilt of the greatsword on my shoulder, resting my arm in preparation. The other gripped the reins, ready to fly one-handed. My heart picked up speed in tandem with Gottyk.
We burst out of the close quarters of the canyon and back out above the glittering lake. Light and air greeted me along with thousands of Volitant fans. The building anticipation warped into giddiness.
I searched for them. The visor finally kept up with me as my eyes darted everywhere looking for the first fight. All around the basin other riders and their dragons were caught in their own encounters, only brief reflections of light showing signs of their opponents.
My back tingled.
‘Shi—’
Air abandoned my lungs as a huge chunk of arcanite-powered bronze hit me from behind. It leapt over me and landed at the base of Gottyk’s neck, clutching on to his scales.
A three-foot rodent made of overlapping metal plates, the faint glow of power shone through the seams and empty eye sockets. A puppet of Volitant, designed and controlled to do everything it could to slow the riders down.
The arcans had arrived.