CHAPTER NINE #3
The circuit ahead looked like a dead end – a sharp angle of buildings in cream stone jutted out into the track creating a tight right-hand turn.
Gottyk tucked in his wings while I ducked as low as possible.
Theo had the racing line and took the first corner as close as possible to the building’s edge.
As we dived around the first corner, the next one was already upon us.
Gottyk banked a hard right and flung out his wings, allowing us to glide smoothly without crashing into the stack of windows on the opposite side. Theo overshot us.
Panic surged in my chest. My hands twitched on the reins, slowing Gottyk down so we wouldn’t crash into Theo and his dragon. My eyes were stuck on him, waiting for him to cut into my flight path to force me into backing off. Just like he did five years before.
He didn’t do it. Theo’s dragon flung out her wings to slow down and my visor let me pick out the way Theo’s foot nudged her to stay on the racing line. He stayed ahead, not weaving erratically to scare me off.
Because he didn’t know it was me.
I cursed at the mistake. Of course Theo wouldn’t push Thorne. Thorne wouldn’t back off to protect his dragon, not like I would. No, Theo only used tactics like those against me.
I couldn’t let past races haunt me. I shook it off and refocused on my actual problems. The choice to end up on Theo’s left when overtaking the Bolls had put us in a worse position for the corner. I needed to be thinking ahead, not behind.
Theo maintained the lead as we flew along the short route and into the far more gentle corner that would lead us back towards the start–finish line.
It was rife with arcans. Now that most of the riders had their weapons there was no holding back from the Volitant arcanists who puppeteered the constructs from the safety of the tower.
The giant beetles swarmed, the glint of sun on their bronze carapaces the only way to spot them against the greying sky.
I let Theo punch a hole through the initial swarm, skirting through in his slipstream. I kept my axe braced in my hand, taking out a few arcans of my own.
A familiar furnace opened up inside of me. It went deep, past our last race together, drawing up from the decade of racing side by side. This was competition. This was true rivalry. I didn’t care that he thought I was Thorne, I didn’t care that he would never know, I needed to beat him.
Memories came back, unlocked and let loose.
We’d done this countless times before, practising for hours between every race to get it right.
His wyvern had acted as a wind shield to keep up my speed into the tight corners where my flying was weakest. In return I’d defended Theo on the straights with my superior weapon work.
My stomach churned. There was no separating the good from the bad – everything was tainted by his betrayal. He’d used me to get ahead and not looked back.
I wasn’t the only one who could be used though. I could relive my past for a single race, for the sake of not finishing last. It’s not like Theo had a choice, he couldn’t shake me if he tried.
So I did it. I followed Theo around the circuit, staying close every lap to steal some speed.
Then, when more arcans flooded the circuit, I ripped through them as he fell into position beside me.
I tore metal wings apart and launched the hard-shelled bodies at the ones still flying.
Theo had to duck to miss some purposely low-slung arcans, but he flew onwards, keeping me nearby.
The unspoken deal had been made. We could make it further together. Just this once. For the next ten laps we came as a duo: speed and fury.
Until the Boll brothers decided they’d had enough of being behind us.
We were on the hairpin turn at the far end of the track when the white Mirendi dragons set off my proximity sensors. Both my left and right sides buzzed in alarm. Tailing Theo left me with no room to speed up out of the way as the two of them gained height and flew over the top of me.
The red-tipped talons of the dragons got lower and lower, grazing the top of my helmet as we exited the corner. Gordi, maybe Mac – I didn’t care – descended further.
The joy I’d been feeling curdled into rage. They were on the cusp of racing dirty. Contact between a rider and another dragon wasn’t just against the rules, it wasn’t how riders did things.
They left me with the choice between seeing how my helmet held up against the claws of a dragon or dipping alarmingly low towards the street.
I chose the claws. There was no way I was risking my dragon getting hurt. Not ever.
The other Mirendi dragon swooped beside us. Number thirty-four, Gordi, watched me with glowing red eye slots as he jerked the reins. His dragon shoved us towards the barrier.
Gottyk careened out of the way as I ducked out of instinct. Light exploded. My visor blacked out. My suit shook so violently that I felt it in my bones.
I let go of the reins, tucked my head down and clung on to the desperate hope that Gottyk would be okay.