CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX #2
I was instantly taken back to that age – me and Theo arguing over the last pastry at dinner, both of us excitedly explaining the race to Pops from our own perspectives, Cam looking completely wiped out after being our escort for the day.
‘Nice to meet you all.’ I couldn’t tell if they heard me over their own chattering.
I thought it odd that Theo expected word of this to spread via the power of a dozen children, but then I saw their parents.
They dripped with accessories, their hair was slicked or quaffed to perfection and their clothes were all brandless, like my new ones.
Part of me, the little girl inside, wanted to recoil.
They were dressed in more modern clothes, but they were the same as they always had been – the kinds of parents that had complained about me being there on track.
My heart picked up pace as they fussed after their children.
‘Remember to smile,’ Theo whispered to me as he was pulled in two directions by competing young racers.
My natural instinct to being told to smile was to do the opposite. Then I saw the light catch in the hands of the adults – I switched up my expression as fast as I could.
‘Oh, darling, stand next to them and look over here!’ One of them raised an actual casting orb and pointed it right at me. The kid next to me waved to them while he pulled a face, then went right back to buzzing around.
‘Is that—?’
Theo replied over the tops of the kids’ heads. ‘Yep, same as the journos have. Not just still casts anymore, they can record too.’
Cam had taken plenty of stills once she’d got her hands on a second-hand augment, but casting orbs in the hands of parents?
These were some of the richest people from the continents, here to make the dreams of their kids come true.
From the accents of the kids, there were families from not just the Crescent, but the north and south continents too.
It had been the same when I was a kid – it was how I’d met Theo in the first place.
‘Okay, gang!’ Ben clapped his hands together. ‘Let’s get started!’
I expected to be abandoned as the young riders rushed to the stables for their drakes, but instead I felt a tug on my hand. One of the smaller kids was pulling on my arm.
‘Those look like my grandma’s clothes.’ A little girl whose head only just came up to my elbow looked up at me with all the genuine earnestness of a child. Despite the innocent look of big blue eyes and wispy blonde hair she’d managed to tell me I dressed like an old woman.
‘Your race suit looks like mine shrank in the wash.’ Trading fashion insults with a kid didn’t make me proud, but it was better than nothing.
Luckily, she giggled. ‘Come on. You can help me beat the boys.’
Surprise emotion caught in my throat. ‘Yeah, okay.’
The young girl was called Netti and she’d been racing for a year already. She was named for her grandmother, who was from the northern continent but had moved to the Crescent for work. This racetrack was like a second home to her, the other riders like cousins.
All of that I learned as the kids were gearing up and climbing on to the drakes. Netti wasn’t done though.
‘I’m the littlest one, but that means I can go faster even on the littler drakes.
’ She was talking even when shoving a helmet down over her head.
‘Do you go faster on your dragon? I think you should. Dragons are just bigger drakes. What’s your dragon’s name?
This is Kenta. She’s a girl like us.’ She patted the drake before climbing on.
I held the reins of the dusty-brown drake as Netti got settled in the saddle. It was a fantastic beast – packed with muscle, an even ratio between tail and body and thick claws that wouldn’t be at risk of blunting any time soon.
‘Do you always race with Kenta?’ Most of the drakes used on track days like this were housed in the stable and owned by the company that owned the circuit, but there was no guarantee that she’d be paired with the same riders.
‘No, she’s mine.’ Netti said it so casually.
Impressive. Most kids didn’t get their own drake until they started competing. Netti was rich-rich. ‘So you know how to race this track, yeah?’
Her helmet, custom-made, made Netti’s head look twice as big, throwing her proportions into comedic scale, even more so as she nodded, her whole head wobbling around. ‘Yeah.’
The basin was ringed with track connecting each level with ramps. The staff had cordoned off sections to create a circuit that spiralled down two levels before going back up again. It had been used for the official Junior Drake Series, even when I was young enough to compete.
I smirked at the memory of outsmarting Theo years ago. ‘If you’re feeling confident—’
‘I am!’
‘Okay, count the turns as you go around them.’ I told her what I used to do, using my hands to demonstrate the angles for the corners. ‘Do you think you can try that?’
She slammed down her faceplate as she replied, ‘Yes!’
I stood back, letting the group file out to the start line. They had drawn lots for starting position, just like we did in Volitant.
‘Passing on some words of wisdom?’ Theo asked. His elbow bumped into mine as he joined me in spectating.
‘I hope so,’ I replied. ‘Though honestly this just makes me want to race again.’
‘You will.’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I actually meant like this.’ I gestured to the drakes as they took off at the top of the slope. ‘I know it was never easy, but it did seem a lot simpler back then.’
‘Probably because Pops and Cam were dealing with all the grown-up stuff.’
He was right. During the Junior Drake years I’d been able to show up and race. Everything else was handled by the adults. So much had been going on and while I’d caught wind of some of it – I’d overheard the way some of the other parents spoke about me – it had been a time of blissful ignorance.
‘They actually have some dire drakes here.’
My eyes were glued to the track, Netti was at the first corner. She slowed Kenta down exactly where I’d told her, a whole second later than the others, perfect for getting ahead … Too much though. She was overtaken on the inside line.
‘Dire drakes?’ I asked, distracted.
‘Yeah. Big ones.’
‘For commercial stuff?’ The larger breeds of drake were used for haulage and transport.
‘For racing,’ he said.
I finally turned away from the track. ‘Are you saying what I think you’re saying?’
He smiled at me. ‘Fancy a rematch, Paldon?’
Theo clapped his hands together to gather as much attention as he could. He had mild success as the top three finishers waved their trophies in the faces of the others.
Netti had come second. The smile on her face warmed my heart, but the vigour of her celebration was what made me smile back. She held the trophy above her head, making herself taller than the winning boy.
‘All right.’ Theo stepped forward, arms wide to catch the kids’ attention. ‘Who wants to see Lena eat my dust?’
A chorus of exclamations erupted. It doubled when the dire drakes were brought out, saddled up and ready to race.
They were a sight to behold. The dire drakes had the same shape as the juniors – wide joints that let their legs sprout outwards – but were far larger, enough for adults to ride.
They had a fan of spikes around the crown of their heads, only broken by two larger horns.
Someone had been taking notes from wyverns and dragons.
It was uncanny.
‘They’re pure drake?’ I asked as I approached the first one. Their scales were a warm brown, lacking the colour of the chromatic dragons and the sheen of the metallics.
Theo nodded. ‘Hard to believe, I know, but there’s an endeavour to bring drake racing into the upper-age brackets. These are the first in a long line of potential professionals.’
Even when I’d worked in the Kiestral hatchery I hadn’t heard of anything like this.
I nodded to the drake, watching its eyes as I did.
I got nothing in response. So they lacked the intelligence of their cousins, or at least seemed to.
Yet their head shape, the way their eyes had the vertical pupil …
it was familiar enough to remind me of Gottyk.
Enough to remind me of how much I missed him.
‘You’re not going to nerd out on us, are you?’ Theo bumped my shoulder as he went to greet the next drake. He took the snout in his hands and gave it a friendly rub. ‘Lena was around breeding drakes before she even started racing,’ he said to the group. ‘Then worked with Kiestral’s brood, right?’
‘Did you really?’ One of the older kids wiped his nose on the sleeve of his race suit, yet somehow didn’t clear any of the gunk from his face.
‘I did.’ I wasn’t used to talking about my background. ‘My uncle used to breed racing drakes. That’s how I was able to race when I was a kid.’
If it hadn’t been for him there wouldn’t have been any way for me to compete.
Renting one from the track aviary or owning one had been far out of whatever budget the family had.
Uncle Tony working for one of Gedeinia’s top breeders meant a few favours had got me on to the track.
Performing well had kept me there. It made them look good if their drakes could win, even with a girl riding them.
‘Who knows the difference between drakes, wyverns and dragons?’ I didn’t care if Theo teased me for it. Understanding the mount being raced was, as far as I was concerned, essential.
‘Dragons are the biggest!’
‘Drakes don’t have wings!’
‘Wyverns only have two legs!’
The last comment started an argument between the older boys. I held back a smile. It was something adults argued over too.
‘They have four limbs.’ I spoke over them, happy to settle their debate. ‘Their front limbs are both legs and wings.’
I held out an arm and drew an imaginary wing membrane between my wrist and waist.
‘Dragons have four legs and two wings.’ I grew giddy remembering the outlier hidden away at the ranch.
‘Lena!’ Theo had familiar glint in his eyes. ‘I can’t believe you’d forget about the dragons from the sixties! Can anyone name—’