CHAPTER NINE #2
My flight suit flooded with cold, compensating for the heat as much as it could. Even though I was protected, I shut my eyes, instinct kicking in harder than the need to see.
The flame and smoke cleared. I swiped off the now-defunct arcans. They rolled, heavy and immobile, off me and down to the street below.
‘No more until the breath timer is up.’
I wanted nothing more than to rip the comms out of my ear and have Gottyk incinerate them next. I knew I couldn’t use it again for half the race. At least we’d managed an overtake.
A flash of purple flew by, using the clear air I’d just created.
My anger spiked. This race had started badly and had only got worse. For all my effort in pretending to be Thorne I’d only screwed myself over. What was the point of doing this if I was stuck being a loser like him?
The competitive fire inside of me flared, hotter than Gottyk’s flames.
‘That’s it,’ I said. ‘No more pretending.’
Tailing Omar for a lap was easy enough to do. I followed him around the hairpin and along the next straight. Overtaking wasn’t going to be easy, but that wasn’t my priority for now.
I tapped my helmet for open comms. ‘Where’s the next arsenal?’
A pause.
‘Clarify. You want another arsenal?’ Hector’s tone was tentative.
I didn’t have time for tentative. Frustration was building to the point where I didn’t have to pretend to speak like Thorne. ‘Just tell me!’ I bit off the please at the end.
‘Long route, left-hand side, in the tunnel.’
‘Good.’
Ahead, Omar took the short route. Not a bad choice given he had his weapon – I should have done the same, but the sword was getting me nowhere.
So I took the tunnel.
It was made for the railway, but on race day it was just for us riders and dragons.
The copper rails flashed underneath us and we flew low, the lights above us strobing from the speed.
My visor locked on to the arsenal. It was tucked into an alcove, blocking a maintenance door in the side of the tunnel wall.
A few hilts stuck out. I smiled. I dropped the great sword, the huge orange blade vanishing the moment the handle left my palm.
Gottyk tucked his wings in and rolled, my head a foot away from brushing the tiled tunnel wall. The hilt slapped into my palm, the haptic feedback stinging my skin. Copper rails rushed over my head for the half-second I hung upside down, then as soon as the roll was done Gottyk’s wings came out.
The light of the sun was waiting for us at the end of the tunnel. It was impossible to see what was beyond, the bloom was blinding even with the visor dimming to help.
I turned the dial on the hilt, but not to the sword. No, this time I was going to do it my way. Screw Thorne and his oversized sword. Screw acting like a washed-up old rider to disguise myself. Let the world believe he was trying something new.
The hilt connected with the glove. Orange light surged. Instead of a long, broad blade the handle extended into a slim haft that sprouted into wicked twin blades. My smile split open to match. It didn’t feel like racing if I didn’t have a battleaxe.
I held out my arm, arched my back and prepared for whatever lay beyond the light at the end of the tunnel.
We burst into the open street, converging with the other routes. My visor dimmed at the sudden light, barely enough for me to make out that yes, there were arcans waiting for me. No warning from the team. Fair enough, I’d been a brat.
I twisted, swinging my weapon forward to clear the air. It didn’t matter that I had to squint. I wasn’t taking any chances.
The axe made contact. My eyes adjusted. Arcans were everywhere.
I hauled the double-headed blade from right to left, slicing through an arcan. I brought it back, using the opposite side to bash into the next augment construct. Any fatigue I’d been feeling was gone in a flush of joy. My arms felt lighter, my attention sharper and my mind faster.
This was what I had been missing. This was what I needed to feel alive.
I swung to and fro, cutting through the arcans with the muscle memory from wyvern racing flooding through me. Gottyk didn’t even have to slow down. The smaller weapon was just as deadly in the right hands. My hands.
We rushed around turn one yet again. Gottyk’s talons crackled against the barrier, but it wasn’t a mistake this time – we were making the most of the space we had. Clinging to the edge of the circuit to make the most of a corner – that was the difference between flying and racing.
The street ahead of us was the harbour straight. Much more exciting when it was filled with ten dragons, ten riders and dozens upon dozens of arcans. I let out a laugh. My happiness couldn’t be contained any longer.
We sped into the fray. Omar was fighting off his own problems with his purple shortsword.
I had Gottyk dive past as the arcans swarmed around him.
Mac and Gordi were next on their white dragons.
They worked in tandem to cover for one another – so much so that one of the riders wasn’t even facing forwards, instead watching their backs.
Ahead of them was Theo on another Ballenir purple. There wouldn’t be much space for me if I squeezed past the Bolls. There was a way though, to get past all three. Just not enough room for me and Gottyk at once. I’d done it plenty of times in the Wyvern Cup, but I’d never practised it with Gottyk.
What better time to try than in the middle of a race?
I unbuckled my safety lines.
‘Okay, buddy, keep an eye on me.’
The set of Gottyk’s shoulder blades shifted.
I brought my feet up and out of the stirrups, holding on to the pommel of the saddle with my left hand and held the axe out with my right.
As we approached the tail end of the Bolls I watched the arcans that harassed them.
They flew between the brothers, buzzing around their white spears.
‘See you on the other side!’
I took a step forward between his shoulders, staying low. Then I jumped. I wrapped both hands around the handle of my axe above my head. I flew through the air untethered – until gravity took hold.
I slammed my axe into an arcan on my way down. The hook of the blade embedded into its body. My stomach dropped as it began to spiral downwards. It wasn’t as strong as I’d expected. We careened forwards and downwards – past the Bolls.
Gottyk flew underneath them, a flash of orange beneath the white and red.
I shifted the hilt with my right hand to dissipate the axehead.
I dropped down, landing feet first on Gottyk’s saddle.
My joints flashed with pain, taking the leftover impact that my suit couldn’t absorb.
I slid on to the seat and reconnected the axe to my glove.
Giddy energy surged through me. I twirled the axe in celebration and followed through with hacking another arcan down. We were neck and neck with Theo. Another laugh gurgled up from deep in my belly, I threw my head back and let it out.
It was glorious.
My proximity sensors went wild. I had Theo to my right and at least one of the Bolls behind. I chanced a glance over my shoulder as I fumbled to reattach my safety lines one-handed, but my eyes were caught by something else.
Theo was staring at me. He ignored the arcans, the blue glow from inside his purple helmet was locked in my direction.
The temptation to flip him off was almost too strong to withstand as our dragons fought for position. Thorne wouldn’t though – Theo was beneath him. Everyone was beneath him. So I checked on the Mirendi dragons behind as planned. They were on the tails of me and Theo.
All well and good until the double right-hand corners that would take us to the second half of the circuit. There wasn’t room for two to go through at once, let alone four. So it was a matter of who was going to yield first.
It wouldn’t be me.
I could see Theo glancing over in my peripheral vision.
If he was trying to outpace me into the double corner he had another thing coming.
I stowed my axe on my back, letting the blades disappear while we took on the tight bends.
I grabbed the loose ends of the reins and tied them into a hasty knot.
Theo did the same with his weapon, his glowing purple longsword disappearing as he took the reins of his dragon in both hands. It was going to be a head-to-head fight for track position then.
It wasn’t the first time we’d raced like this.
‘Tuck and weave, Gottyk!’
He started clawing back some height, as much as he could while surrounded by a pack of dragons. Theo did the same. I’d have accused him of copying, but neither of us was moving first. We were in sync. My blood boiled at how little had changed.