Page 7

It wasthe first time I was back in Wolfheart on my own in over ten years. Where would I go? One place immediately came tomind.

The White TreeWolf-Cycle Track brought me mixed feelings. Watching the races had been a great passion when I was younger, but my love for the sport had been tainted because of my husband’s participation in it. Still, it was where I ended up going, almostautomatically.

It was open race day,with amateurs and semi-pros taking to the track to practice their runs. The huge stadium was only half-filled, but still bursting with excited energy. It’d been ages since I’d been to a race, and my heart immediately began to pound as the familiar smell of gasoline hit my nose, followed by the ghoulish whine of wolf-bike engines. It was impossible not to get swept up in the atmosphere, in the excitement of it all. It didn't hurt that White Tree was the largest, the most complicated, and the most dangerous track in theworld.

When I was just gettingto know Gregor, I’d clung to his aptitude for bike racing as the one possible saving grace, the one piece of connection that I thought we might’ve been able to share. He’d ruined thattoo.

With plentyof seats available I was able to find a good position overlooking the track, with clear views of the major obstacles. There was the Dog’s Eye, a series of narrow vertical loops rising a hundred feet in the air; The Walls, a section of parallel walls that required a high level of speed to maintain traction; and the most dangerous, The Forest—a section after the final straightaway filled with scattered concrete pylons that the riders needed to weave around at breakneckspeed.

I’d arrivedin the middle of a race. Different views of the tracker were projected onto giant screens hanging above the stands, overlaid with information about the different competitors. The crowd roared as the bikes exploded past the stands into the first straightaway of the final lap. Two were neck and neck, with another two not farbehind.

Hounds of Hell,they’refast.

Having not seena race in so long, I’d forgotten what it was like to see such speed. It was invigorating, like nothing else. They seemed to be constantly on the verge of being out of control, like they could pull apart or collide into the obstacles at any moment, and every time they seemed just on the edge of disaster, they avoided it. And the sound! The sound of the bikes was like the shrill howl of a banshee wolf, underlined with a deep pulsing vibrato that shook your verycore.

It’d been sucha long time, but I was remembering everything. I was actually enjoying myself, foronce.

The two leaderszipped into the Dog’s Eye, skirting the narrow loops with dizzying precision. The crowd gasped—me included—when one of the tail bikes lost the path and shot off loop, launching into the air like a missile. It soared high and then exploded as the inner control pod jettisoned from the main body and floated back down to the ground with the aid of two parachutes. Smoke drifted from the downed pod as rescue teams rushed out to aid thedriver.

The leaders exitedthe Dog’s Eye unscathed, pushing into a series of hairpin turns that crisscrossed up a steep hill. I was on the edge of my seat now, my pulse racing as fast as the wolf-cycles on the track. The first bike carved ahead, pulling away just slightly from the second rider. An “oooh” rose up from the crowd. The bikes hurtled onto ramps that split the trick into a Y fork, curving upward so that they were vertical. It was The Walls. They pushed their speed to maintain their climb and ride. The second bike faltered a bit, and for a second it looked as if he was going to lose that critical level of speed needed to keep the bike stuck on the wall, but suddenly, just at the last minute, he corrected. The third bike didn’t miss his chance to take advantage of the mistake. He zipped around number two, taking second place. This guy wasgood! I realized I was biting my lip out of nervous excitement, a habit I’d forgotten I oncehad.

They wereout of The Walls and into the final straightaway. I rose to my feet along with the rest of the crowd—the most dangerous section was just ahead. The new second bike managed to close the distance between him and the leader, bringing them neck and neck. I found myself rooting for this guy, whoever he was. He was a clear underdog, and a damn good rider. His bike shot forward like a steel blue laser next to the leader’s crimson streak. The straightaway opened up into a field of a thick, concrete pylons that increased in number as they neared the finish line. Many of the pylons were charred and blackened from crashes. The riders split away from each other, each looking for their own path through The Forest. There was no room to slow down. Any decrease in speed to avoid a pylon would inevitably mean a loss—or a crash. This was on the edge riding at its mostintense.

The red bikezipped a line through the pylons, avoiding them with exact precision. Blue was the same. They were on opposite sides of the field, but it was easy to see they were still neck and neck. The finish line was closing in fast. Would the victory come down toinches?

The crowd wassilent in anticipation now, the stadium filled only with the whine of the engines. Blue had a slight advantage… Or was it red? It was impossible totell.

Icringedas blue came close to clipping a pylon, swerving around it, its back tire giving off a puff of white smoke.Shit. Had he just screwed himselfover?

Wait…

Blue was takingwhat seemed to be a clear path through the pylons, the best way to go at what seemed like the fastest speed—until heincreasedhis speed. They were taking their bike mere inches away from each pylon, hardly turning to avoid them. I felt goosebumps prickle my skin as my heart skipped a beat. I’d seen this driving before. No, more than that, I’d been intimate with this technique. I’d only known one driver who’d made it theirsignature.

“Fuck yeah!”someone shouted. “Go,Luna!”

My mouth dropped open.No way.Could it really be him? But did I really need to ask that? Who else could it be? Who else was named Luna who drove like that in The Forest on the final lap of the race? I’d only knownone.

Arthur Luna.

My legs felt weak,and my body tingled with excitement, but this time it wasn’t from the race. I hadn’t thought about Arthur for years. I hadn’t even heard his name inyears.

Iwas stillin disbelief that blue bike down there could really belong to Arthur Luna, but there really was no one else it could be. The Lunas were a prominent family in Wolfheart. Not just anyone had that last name, and Arthur had been the only one of his four brothers to race wolf-cycles.

The crowdaround me erupted into a roar. He’d won the race, but I was barely even paying attention anymore. I stood transfixed, watching as the blue bike curved around the track. All I wanted to see was who would emerge from the bike, but because it was just an open race day and not an official event, the bike drove along to the pit and disappeared into the underground bays. A new set of bikes immediately rode out, and the next races began. Someone behind me cleared their throat, and I realized that the rest of the crowd had resumed their seats, leaving me the only one standing like an idiot. I quickly sat down, my heart still pounding in mychest.

How strange wasit that someone who’d once been so important to me had all but completely left my mind? Maybe it’d been the trauma of our separation that’d forced me to sacrifice my memories of him. If I traced things back, that time had been the start of this life I was nowliving…

Arthurand I had met in pre-academy, at the Delson Preparatory School for Young Wolves. We spent three years together there—two years and eleven months as the closest friends, and one month as something muchmore.

Igotup from my seat and left the stands, going down into the auditorium where I knew of a secret maintenance route that would take me down into the bike staging area. I needed to see if it really washim.

The marriageto Gregor Houndfang had been arranged years before Arthur and I had met. I’d never had a say in the matter, nor had I really questioned or objected to it. I’d grown up knowing that I would marry into the Houndfang family, believing that it was for the good of my family. I’d gone through most of my young life committed to that duty, not concerned about love—I was already engaged, and I believed I would never fall in love with anyone,anyway.

Ifoundthe maintenance route and slipped down it. I straightened my shirt and walked with purpose, passing by a group of mechanics who didn’t even give me a second glance. My pulse was racing now, soaring as fast as the pulse of pistons in a wolf-cycle’s engine. I felt almost dizzy with excitement. What would I do if it was him? What would I say? So many things were rushing through mymind.

Wouldhe want to see me? Would he be happy to see my faceagain?

His face…Even though it’d been so many years, I could still picture him in my mindperfectly.