CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I scrubbed at my hair with the towel provided by the ranch.
It was decent, but ever since using the ones on the Volitant train I’d become bratty about anything less than luxurious.
I tossed it into the laundry pile and brushed out my hair, flopping on to the double bed.
Standing was overrated, especially at the end of my evening shift of tending to the dragons.
My lodgings were nice, though not at all the style of home I’d expected of a legendary Volitant rider.
The bedroom, with attached bathroom, was connected to a long porch that wrapped around the building.
The room itself was square, the pale green walls with a dark wooden floor made it feel cosy, while the big bed, storage and armchair provided plenty of efficiency and comfort.
Not so much like the sprawling Vaspre home, but oddly that had a similar homey feeling too.
Training hadn’t felt so difficult since my visit. I still hadn’t managed to tag Bach, but expending the effort wasn’t so demoralizing when there was hope for the future. It was, however, still tiring. My eyes began to close as I stared at the ceiling with my limbs spread out on the bed.
Josie’s laugh bounced through the window from the porch. I’d left it open hoping to get some fresh air in to cool the room, but the humidity of the island was nearly as bad as the bathroom during a hot shower.
I rolled off the edge of the bed, landing on my feet and groaning as I stretched back up.
It was tempting to just go to sleep, but Josie was finally back.
I hadn’t seen her for a couple of days while I’d been with Theo and she was back on shift at the Kiestral aviary.
She’d have stopped in to see Gottyk for me.
My mood boosted at the thought of my friend and my dragon, I headed out to the porch.
My bare feet slapped against the polished wood, enjoying the freedom.
My shorts and t-shirt were perfect for the dry summer at home, but in the jungle even they felt thick and heavy.
Still, I couldn’t not pack them, they were my oldest, most worn and comfiest set.
The illustrated print of the dragon Damina, Vepari’s daughter, on the shirt was still visible, as were the wing patterns on the shorts.
They didn’t make quality team merchandise like this anymore.
Out on the dark porch Josie was pulling a chair up to the small table that lived out there. Bottles clinked as she set several down. She saw me and waved.
‘Lena, come join us.’
I slumped into the free chair. ‘Sure, who are you—?’
Bach stepped out from a room further along the porch. I shrank into my seat, pulling my knees up to my chest. I’d been expecting one of the other keepers, or Laurent the manager.
‘Josie, cover me. I’m going back in.’ I ducked, trying to escape before he saw me.
‘Don’t be stupid.’ She grabbed hold of my shoulder, holding me on the chair.
‘I’m in my old Prevere pyjamas, Josie,’ I hissed at her through the smile I’d plastered on my face. My time was up, Bach was joining us with another chair.
She looked at me, seeing the smiling dragon that had faded from years of washing and wearing. Her lips clamped together as her eyes widened. Thankfully she took a drink to cover the smile spreading across her face.
‘Hey,’ was all Bach said as he sat down opposite me.
His broad frame completely obscured the wooden chair; the only clue it was still there was the groaning sound it made as he leaned in for one of the bottles.
I could have sworn he made a similar sound, looking more tired when out of his flight suit.
I’d been in training with him for most of the day and had been for a few weeks, but that was work.
We said hello, talked about dragons, Volitant and then we went our separate ways.
Yes, sometimes I complained and he gave advice, but then I went back to avoiding him around the ranch like any sane person would do.
All so he wouldn’t catch me in my pyjamas that had his old team and dragon on them.
I hoped that the same strategy would work here too. I stayed quiet as he and Josie chatted. The light beer Josie had brought was a good distraction. It was blissfully cold and it was fun to watch the water droplets drip down the glass bottle and merge together.
In a way, it reminded me of home. Any time it was more than me and Cam in the house it was easier to just stay quiet.
Everyone was nice, but they were Cam’s crew, not mine.
I was definitely Josie’s friend, but she and Bach had known each other for years.
The longer I sat there with them, scrunching my toes on the lip of my seat, the more I missed us keeping my secret together.
It had kept everyone else out of our business.
‘I saw Gottyk today,’ she said, very much directing it at me.
I perked up.
‘Rosinder is well enough to have company now, so he’s been fussing over her.’
‘Classic Gottyk.’ I smiled thinking of him pacing around his sister, cooing and kicking up the pellets to make her comfortable. ‘Last time I had a cough he nearly buried me alive.’
Bach chuckled. ‘I should have noticed when it was you flying. Looking back it’s obvious that Gottyk trusts you. Dragons don’t act like that around just anyone.’
A bubble of warmth expanded in my chest. I may have been craving approval for my racing, but no compliment would ever hit as hard as this.
Bonding with dragons, wyverns and drakes was more complex than most people knew.
When I explained that, their eyes tended to glaze over.
Having Bach notice … well, it was nearly as good as the approval from the dragons themselves.
‘It helps that you raised him from hatchling age, I think.’ Josie’s eyes were fixed on the middle distance, somewhere across the courtyard of the ranch. ‘I wonder if it’s ever been studied – having a rider stay with the same dragon from egg to racing.’
‘Not studied,’ answered Bach. ‘But that’s the way it used to be in Volitant Forge. In the early years of the sport rich riders hatched their own eggs and raised them to race. Then it became—’ He held up his hands and blew out his cheeks. ‘The sport is too big for it now.’
‘They didn’t use keepers?’ I’d known about the beginnings of Volitant, of course, but I’d assumed the people wealthy enough to race were also too wealthy to do the hard work themselves.
‘Some did, sure. It wasn’t uncommon for the dragons to be personally looked after though.
It’s why so many of the rules and safety measures came in, as the riders actually cared about the dragons back then.
Before the barriers, before the banning of rider-on-rider fighting and the introduction of time limits, they had to risk the health of the dragon for the win.
’ He took a swig of his beer. ‘Volitant was so much better back then.’
Josie laughed. ‘I swear every Volitant fan – Forge, Chroma, any team – always says that. The one unifying opinion of the sport: it was better when I was a kid.’
‘Aw, come on. I know we can be jaded over the dragonshit policies and corporate greed of it, but modern Volitant is still great. Fans love it too.’ For me, the unifying love for Volitant were the dragons, the racing. The rules may have changed, but the core was still there.
‘Okay, Lena, then answer this.’ Josie shifted in her chair, facing me head on. ‘What was the greatest year for racing?’
‘Oh, that’s a good question.’ Bach was cheery, it was so strange to see this less serious side of him.
I pursed my lips at Josie. ‘Knowing the greatest year for racing is different from thinking it will never be beaten by future generations.’
Her eyes lit up. ‘You think the best Volitant season in history will be beaten in the future?’
‘No.’ I sighed. She already knew I didn’t believe that. ‘The 3260 Decennial was the peak of racing. Hands down, no debate, end of every Volitant discussion.’
‘Ah.’ Bach seemed surprised. ‘No, it was definitely forty-six. The year Writter used the tunnel shortcut at Sky Pillar – the guy was insane.’
‘What?’ I slammed my beer back on to the table. Foam spurted from the top. ‘How can you not agree? You were there!’
His thick blond brows knitted together, he even stroked his bearded chin. How he had anything to think about or consider was beyond me. The answer was obvious.
‘Was that with Ascil?’
Josie cackled as I tried not to have a seizure over him questioning which dragon he’d flown.
‘Ah, Lena,’ – She wiped a tear from her cheek. –‘I thought you were going to pick the other Decennial … you know, since you’re in Damina pyjamas.’
My chin jutted out as I flexed my jaw. I couldn’t punch her arm in front of Bach, though I really, really wanted to.
‘Wow, I’ve not seen those in a long time.’ Bach stared at me, noticing my blue shorts and shirt for the first time.
I gave up on hiding and let my legs down so he could better see the goofy-looking print of his old dragon. Not even his beard and bushy brows could hide the deepening smile lines as the nostalgia hit him.
‘Ah, she loved those. I used to bring her merchandise to the aviary. She would bury it in her bedding like it was an egg.’ He got a faraway look in his eyes and ran a hand over his face. ‘I’ve not thought about that in ages.’
My throat felt thick. Suddenly I felt awful – I was wearing a reminder of a lost friend of Bach’s. I was having a hard enough time being away from Gottyk even knowing he was being looked after. If he’d followed the Pull and someone showed me a picture of him I’d start a fight, no questions asked.
Bach reclined in his chair, shoulders relaxed as he absently ripped the label off his beer. ‘I’ll tell Vepari about it. She’ll like this.’