20. Chapter 20
D awn greeted Zephyr as she stood barefoot on her porch with her comforter wrapped around herself. Today was a race day . Maybe not her race day, but she felt that bubbling energy, that inability to sit still, and she knew eventually she’d feel eerily calm.
The door creaked open, and Neil stepped outside, his green flannel unbuttoned and revealing a sturdy chest that would have distracted her on any other morning. He grumbled, “You didn’t have to take the only blanket with you.”
Zephyr draped her blanket over his shoulders before sliding close to him and burying her face into his chest for warmth. He huffed, but he wrapped the blanket around her, too. “I’ve never felt nervous before a race,” she admitted. “I don’t like it.”
“It’s because someone else is doing the flying. You’re sitting back and just hoping you’ve done enough to prepare her.”
She hummed in agreement, putting some space between them as she leaned back. She decided she was going to wear her old number today, even if it made her feel a little self-conscious. Even if Jaxon saw. Gods, she hoped he had already left town.
“I need to head to Karah’s place. I’m sure she’s pretending to not be a mess.” Neil gave her back her blanket, kissed her forehead, and left.
She was secretly glad to be alone. No matter how much she opened her heart, she wanted the morning of a race day to stay just for her.
Though, this wasn’t technically her race, was it?
After taking a moment to pout, Zephyr went inside and changed into her old racing jacket.
The 33 on her back felt heavy, but good.
It was time to find her student.
ZEPHYR FOUND LEVINA HYPERVENTILATING behind a tree. A softball bat bag was in the grass next to Levina, her broomstick likely stored inside.
“We’re air witches, Levina,” Zephyr announced. “We’ll catch our breath.”
“I’m not afraid of that . I’m afraid I’m going to puke.”
“I’d hold your hair back, but it’s already in a braid, so…”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Levina stood up, covering her mouth with a hand. “Gods, I just want this to be over.”
“It’s a low-altitude race. Perfectly safe.”
Levina opened her mouth before she shook her head and handed over her phone. Zephyr scanned the text message and cringed. Levina’s dad had finally responded to his invitation to the race. “A thumbs up? That’s it?
“That’s it,” Levina confirmed.
Zephyr probed, “Does that mean he’s coming to watch your race?”
Levina scoffed. “It means he didn’t even read my message. Just reacted to it. What’s worse is that my mom saw it. She started baking cupcakes.”
“Is that bad?”
“The cupcakes? No, they’re pretty good, and they’re pumpkin spice.”
“No, the sporadic baking. Is that a bad sign? Is she freaking out?”
“She’s always freaking out. She just doesn’t show it. I really want to win this. I want to shove it in his face.” Levina took her phone back and picked up her bat bag.
Zephyr stopped Levina from slinging the bat bag over her shoulder. “Wait. I need to inspect your broomstick.” Zephyr whipped out a small manual, squinting at the tiny writing within. She wondered if she should mention revenge was not a good reason for racing.
“The judges will make sure my broom meets regs,” Levina complained.
“And I’ll make sure it’s safe. Hand it over.”
“You’ve seen it a dozen times,” Levina grumbled. She turned away, digging through her bag before carefully sliding out her worn broom. “Here.”
Zephyr inspected the handle for any cracks or chips and ran her fingers over the red bristles. The weight wasn’t as well-balanced as she would have liked, but it would do. Until Levina let her buy her a new broomstick, at least.
Levina snatched the broom back, but Zephyr attributed that to nerves. The teen declared, “Let’s go. I want to sit and stare at the track. In silence.”
“If you’re insinuating that I talk too much, I have a monologue that will change your mind.”
Levina walked a little faster toward the start of the racetrack.
IN A PROFESSIONAL AIR RACE, Zephyr and Levina would both have headsets to communicate with each other.
Zephyr would give Levina directions, weather updates, and encouragement while she flew.
But since the race was in a small town and the racers were mostly teenagers, Zephyr had to sit back and just watch.
At least a few airborne familiars would be following the racers to make sure no one fell behind or was hurt.
Dale would be following Levina, though he wasn’t the speediest familiar of the bunch.
“Hey.”
Zephyr glanced up from her perch on an icy and mostly empty bleacher scattered with parents and racing enthusiasts from the Hollow.
It was dreadfully early so most of the Hollow was still warm in bed and dreaming.
Neil approached with his grandmother on his arm.
He carried a camping chair in his other arm, and he flicked that open and settled Hattie inside of it.
She quickly sank into the seat, pulling the collar of her coat up and over her ears as she muttered about the early hour.
“ And it looks like rain,” Hattie cursed.
Zephyr blinked at the bright blue sky, completely cloud-free, and still held her tongue. She would never , even at her cockiest, argue with a witch Hattie’s age. Age didn’t always equal wisdom, but in Zephyr’s experience, the older the witch, the nastier the hexes they knew.
Neil stood next to Zephyr, scanning the starting line where Levina sat cross-legged in the grass, her bat bag on her lap. “Karah is right behind me. She’s on the phone arguing with her lesser and former half.”
“Levina mentioned something about that,” Zephyr admitted.
“She’s really opened up to you, hasn’t she?” Neil didn’t smile, but his eyes crinkled. Zephyr had to look away so she could concentrate on the flight map in her hands.
“It’s strange, not being able to watch the entire race,” she said.
Her fingers traced out each of the stops, places where parents and the audience would hike over and wait to see the racers fly by.
There were five stops between the starting line and the finish line. “I should have worn hiking boots.”
“Next time,” Neil said easily. He sounded completely certain she’d be there for the next time, whenever that was. He added, just as relaxed, “You look good.”
“I know.”
He laughed, but his mood quickly shifted. “What is he still doing here?”
His tone revealed the interruption’s identity. Zephyr refused to follow Neil’s gaze and told herself it wasn’t because she was afraid.
“Thirty-three!” Jaxon called out. When they were rivals, bickering and bantering as they fought for first position, he had never used her actual name.
Just her number. Another obvious red flag she had missed.
Once Zephyr had pulled ahead of him in the rankings, and they no longer traded who won first place, suddenly Jaxon’s insults had turned to flirtations.
Jaxon entered her line of sight, blocking her view of Levina just as the announcer instructed the racers to get into position. He announced, “My flight leaves tomorrow. Think about what you’re giving up. Don’t refuse just to spite me.”
Had he heard nothing she had said? She had confessed her greatest shame to him, that she was afraid to race, and still Jaxon made it all about himself.
She snapped, “Get out of the way, Jaxon!” He wore his racing jacket, too.
It was so golden, it hurt to view it in direct sunlight.
Maybe that was why he never took off his damn sunglasses.
He even had his racing broom clasped in one hand.
It was just as gaudy as he was; the handle a metallic gold with brown bristles.
He just couldn’t miss an opportunity for attention, even from a town he looked down on.
Jaxon blocked Neil’s view, too, and the storm witch stood suddenly, grabbing the front of Jaxon’s jacket and hauling him out of their sight. Just in time for them to see Levina mount her broom.
It took Zephyr far too long to realize what was happening.
Levina’s red bristle broom, easily identifiable, was not the one she was riding today.
Dumbly, Zephyr asked Neil, “Did Karah buy Levina a new broom? I really should have looked it over before the race. It can make such a difference. Why wouldn’t she tell me? ”
“I don’t think…” Neil dropped his hold on Jaxon and took a step forward, hand outstretched toward the racers.
His shout was lost as the announcer shot off a ray of sparks from his wand, signaling the start of the race.
Levina and the others were out of sight in seconds.
Neil said, both hands clutching his hair, “She grabbed your broom. She must have snuck it out of the shop this morning.”
He wasn’t making any damn sense. Zephyr scoffed, “What do you mean she has my broom?” Levina would never win the race with that old thing.
Neil corrected her, “She has your old broom. Your broken broom. I fixed it, but something’s still wrong with it.
It isn’t done. It’s untested.” He was coming very close to babbling.
“Gods, where is Karah?!” he asked wildly.
The crowd left the benches in a horde, all racing to get to the next meeting point.
He shoved his way through, shouting his sister’s name.
Zephyr tried to follow him, still lost, when Jaxon spun her to face him. His hands grabbed the sides of her face, pinning her there as she cried out in a mixture of pain and surprise.
Jaxon shook her. “Was that your fucking broom? Why does that girl have your broom? What have you done ?”
“What in the hells are you doing?” Zephyr shoved at his chest, but he held her firm.
“Stop the race. That girl’s going to crash.”
She froze. He sounded so certain . “What are you talking about?”
“Do as I say,” he warned her.
“Explain what you’re talking about,” she snapped. “Now.”
“No.”