CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE #2
‘Looks like my goodwill has run dry,’ Josie muttered, keeping her eyes down.
I’d never been popular among the team and my actions over the season had kept my expectations low for my return.
Josie though had been associated with Bach.
I’d seen the way the team had acted with her before.
It didn’t matter that she’d known that the camaraderie was fake, this was still going to hurt.
Given that no one even knew her part in my plans, there was only one reason she was being ostracized – me. My knuckles whitened as I clenched my hands, pushing them down against the table while I decided what to do. Blowing up at them all now wasn’t a good idea, but it would feel so good.
‘It’s fine,’ she whispered, nudging me under the table.
‘It’s not.’ My words were clipped as I tried to tether myself, wishing my temper could be anchored like the tables.
She managed a smile. ‘Okay, fair point. I’m fine.’
I breathed out of my nose, no longer feeling the cold. Even if we managed to win and stay in Volitant with Hough’s help, it wasn’t going to be easy. The swamp of dragonshit that was the politics of Volitant was still going to bog us down.
‘Listen up,’ Moss called out from the front of the room. ‘We’ve got the biggest race of the season today. While Victrolia’s riders fight over the championship title we have an opportunity—’
The door behind us opened. I didn’t bother turning around, I wasn’t going to congratulate Thorne for showing up to his first briefing of the season.
‘Sorry I’m late.’ Bach Lotiere sat down next to me, giving Josie and me a warm smile before taking a copy of the briefing notes.
The room was silent.
‘Bach …’ Moss hadn’t been expecting him, either. ‘You’re on sick leave.’
‘A cracked rib is enough to stop me from racing, but not enough to stop me from cheering on Josie and Lena.’ He gestured to Moss with the paper in his hand. ‘Don’t let me interrupt.’
After a brief pause, Moss brought up the cast of the Sky Pillar circuit, continuing like nothing had happened. I chanced a glance over my shoulder at the rest of the team, but had to turn away and pretend to read the notes to hide my smile. They looked deeply uncomfortable.
‘Thanks.’ I hoped my quiet gratitude to Bach captured how much it meant that he’d shown up.
The knowing look in his bright blue eyes suggested that he did.
‘Here.’ Josie slid another copy of the briefing notes over to me. This version had her annotations on. For each section of circuit she’d listed dates and lap numbers, each one corresponding to one of Bach’s old races.
For once the heat inside me wasn’t coming from anger. This was a gentle warmth that came from having an actual team by my side.
I sat cross-legged on the floor of my aviary and stared at the glass case. Inside, the bright orange armour stood upright, staring out over my head and into the open sky outside.
Gottyk was curled around me, resting the tip of his nose against my thigh, sleeping. My left leg was now unreasonably hot, while the right was teased cold by the wind, but it was a comfort to have him there.
‘Okay, it’s time.’
Gottyk snorted awake, blowing dragon snot on to my trousers. I grimaced.
‘Well, that’s double the reason to get changed. Thanks, buddy.’
In the rider room – my rider room – there were two flight suits and two fireproof sets hanging up for me.
Identical in every way, just in case one was torn up mid-race and by some miracle I was well enough to continue.
I’d have been flattered that Kiestral had that much faith in me if I hadn’t known it was Volitant regulations to always have a spare.
I stripped and slipped on the skin-tight fireproof layer.
I’d used my keeper underlayer in the previous races, which was mandatory for anyone working with dragons – it had only taken one accident for that to become a rule – but these were a whole new experience.
The white silky material slid over my skin, light and airy.
The membrane was tight, but somehow felt less dense than the thicker version I was used to – anything to shave off some weight from the rider.
I’d been fit before, but after so much racing and training there had been a definite change to my body. My core was tighter and my limbs were thicker, all the more obvious when I was dressed in the clingy white material. I just hoped all the effort would pay off in the following few hours.
Next I stepped into the flight suit. Thorne’s had thankfully been the right height for me, but I’d needed the armour to help me match his bulk, leaving extra material in the suit to bunch up after it was pressurized. This version though had been made for me.
It had taken an entire afternoon for Josie to take my measurements. I’d have been satisfied with the first set of numbers written down, but she’d insisted on doing it three times over to be sure – something to do with my inability to stand still.
The suit hugged me perfectly even before I activated the internal augments. I buttoned it up, pulling together the two halves of the new sponsor logos embroidered across the chest. Even if my armour cracked and fell off, I wouldn’t be missing an opportunity to make a sale.
I returned to the main aviary, thankful for the suit’s heating system as soon as I stepped back into the brisk air coming from the large opening to the sky.
Gottyk lifted his head from the water trough, dripping water all over the floor.
I dodged round him, fearing the horror of wet socks, and returned to the armour case.
My hand hovered at the edge of the glass door. This could be the last time. I’d felt that way before, having to put aside the fear every time I put on the suit. This time there was no hiding behind the helmet. If I made a mistake I couldn’t pretend to be someone else.
Warm air rushed at the back of my head. I smiled, seeing Gottyk’s reflection behind mine in the glass.
‘Win or lose, we do this as ourselves, right?’
He bumped his nose into my back.
‘All right, fine. I’m doing it.’