CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX #3
He was cut off by a chorus of ‘Ascil!’
My heart swelled with a pride that didn’t really belong to me, but I was happy to feel regardless. I was itching to race again. Theo spotted the goofy grin on my face and, oddly, looked away. Almost sheepish.
The lesson wasn’t over yet though. It was my turn to quiz the little riders. ‘Do any of you know why I’d be surprised that these two look like dragons?’
Guesses were thrown out. Too big, too fast, no wings.
‘It’s because,’ I talked over them, ‘dragons and drakes have never been bred together. No records in the history of the continents has mentioned it happening.’
That earned a few ‘Woahs’.
‘Drakes and wyverns can though,’ I continued. ‘And there have been several instances of crossing breeding lines to get smaller wyverns or bigger drakes. But dragons, they keep to themselves.’
It hadn’t stopped some people trying, of course. Bad breeding practices that only led to dead drakes and wyverns. Sometimes the humans burned too. The dragons didn’t like being used.
‘And dragons fly away too,’ said Netti, reverence in her voice.
I nodded. ‘That’s right. Eventually every dragon flies north into the Winds.’
The great mystery of where dragons went to die was something everyone considered at some point, and kids who wanted to fly, they were the most curious of all.
All we humans knew was that a dragon, one day, felt the Pull – an irresistible urge to fly north and never return.
Or that’s what I’d thought until meeting Ascil.
Regardless of their age, it was considered a great loss, but also a revered calling. Their time was done.
‘You’ve been to their home, haven’t you?’
My heart spiked as the kid asked, but he’d been asking Theo. It took me a moment to realize that he wasn’t talking about Bach’s ranch, but the Sky Pillar. The lone floating island covered with ancient monuments, presumed to be the birthplace of dragons.
Theo swung up into the saddle of the drake. ‘I have raced there, yeah. And if you want to see it too, you’ll pay attention to this race. You could learn a few tricks from us, you know.’
We mounted the drakes and I was transported back to childhood.
The dire drake was uncanny. I was so used to seeing them as strong, bulky creatures, yet there I was sat on the back of one and feeling for all the world like I was eight years old again. I could have been riding Runt, the drake my uncle’s hatchery had loaned me.
It was an easy transition, going back to a drake. I locked my legs into place, stooped my shoulders and held the reins over my lap.
Theo lined up next to me and we shared a glance before the flare sent us racing. Through my visor – one lacking any kind of augments – I could see the creases around his eyes as he smiled. I got the feeling this wasn’t a spontaneous suggestion – he’d been planning it.
The pop of the flare sounded and we were off.
No longer watching each other’s eyes, but instead the movement on track.
Neck and neck around the first corners, taking the slopes at a blistering pace.
The circuit had felt much wider back in the day, back when I wasn’t so focused on the crumbling edges as I spiralled downwards, taking the drake right to the edge to gain an advantage.
Glee bubbled up inside. I may not have had wings under me, but I was still racing. Theo and I pushed and pulled against one another. Taking the lead and conceding it, overtaking every lap at the fastest corners and losing it on the slower inclines.
By the time the end of the race neared – counting the laps myself without any comms to rely on – I’d disappeared into the joy of it completely.
There may not have been Volitant points on the line, there may not have been a trophy waiting at the end, but I still needed to win.
I needed to win so I could have bragging rights.
That’s all that mattered. When the race was over and the helmets came off, I needed to be able to hold the victory over Theo’s head. Nothing more and nothing less.
So when he cut me off as we raced along the downward curve of track, using an old move from our Junior Drake days to squeeze me against the wall, I smiled.
Smiled because my muscle memory kicked in.
I tilted with the dire drake and nudged him up the wall proper, not stopping to consider if the plan would still work when the drake and I were twice as big as the last time I’d tried.
Then we were running parallel to the ground. I whooped with joy as the drake picked up speed, overtaking Theo. By the time we returned to flat ground I was laughing and leaning over to watch Theo try to catch up behind.
I crossed the finish line, only a few strides ahead of Theo. I detached from the saddle and slid off, pulling off my helmet as I went. Immediately I crossed over to him, offering him a hand.
‘Congratulations on being beaten by me, still the best drake rider of the south.’ It was a long-standing rule of ours: never give in to the temptation to be humble.
He clapped his hand into mine. ‘How does it feel knowing you peaked at twelve years old?’
The familiar mischievous sparkle in his brown eyes was back, unwavering as we grinned together, our hair sweaty and plastered down.
There was nothing else like it. The feeling of a race hard fought. Competitive spirit overflowing. Racing for the fun of it. Knowing that regardless of the outcome, I would be smiling afterwards.
My heart pounded as our old mantra found the tip of my tongue: fast and fair.