Page 31

TWENTY-THREE

A s the Howlers meandered down Vohre’s busy streets, Kel felt like a threadbare puppet.

Though Bekn hadn’t summoned the media, people still paused as they passed.

Bekn would glance to the right, and Kel knew to wave.

He’d shift away, and Kel and Coup knew to move closer together.

Somehow, her new mitigator had rewired her muscle memory to suit his publicity schemes without her even realizing.

The crowd cleared just for a moment, and Bekn gave her a small, approving nod. “You’re getting the hang of this.”

Kel sucked in a deep breath and counted her steps, letting the glaring lights overwhelm her and empty her mind. Above her, neon greenery wove up and down skyscrapers. Vines poured over sleek balconies and wrapped around large, overhead screens flashing with advertisements.

Through a tight smile, Kel whispered, “We should be trying to speak with Cristo. It makes no sense for Sav to be racing if she’s nearing a rebirth.”

After a night spent tossing and turning, watching Sav sleep soundly, Kel hastily told her teammates what she’d discovered.

She’d found Bekn, Coup and Dira huddled inside their small kitchen, the latter two eagerly awaiting Bekn’s latest feast. The three had waved away Kel’s concerns once they realized it usually took months for phoenixes to rebirth after initial symptoms appeared.

Talking to them felt like trying to light a match in a hurricane.

“We’ll figure it out after the next race,” Bekn whispered back, quiet enough that Rahn, striding ahead of them with Dira, wouldn’t hear. “There’s nothing we can do until then. Besides, Cristo wouldn’t let Savita compete if it would put anyone in danger.”

“Then why did he restrict my tablet access?”

“Maybe to stop you worrying like this?” Coup interjected from her left, an effortless grin across his face. The easy warmth of his expression made Kel’s stomach lift, but she knew it wasn’t for her sake.

“You said it yourself,” Coup added, still facing his adoring fans, waving from across the street. “Savita is still ages away from a rebirth, right?”

Kel rubbed a hand over her face. On paper, their words made sense. So why wouldn’t her muscles stop aching, as if always alert, waiting for danger?

“Okay—but we should at least be spending the day training.”

Coup sighed. “I actually agree with Varra, there.”

Bekn’s wicked smile grew. “Then you’re both wrong. There are only a few days between races and Savita should use the time to rest. Nothing can be gained from tiring her out, especially after her vitals were already raised in the last race.”

Kel opened and closed her mouth.

Bekn chuckled softly. “You don’t think I pay attention during races?

A mitigator doesn’t just scrounge up publicity, children.

It’s my job to consider every risk. I make sure to know everything that’s going on in my team.

” He crinkled his nose. “Even when that team doesn’t know what’s best for them. ”

Eventually, the passing crowd lost interest, and, from the front of their group, Rahn led them deeper into the crowded city.

Kel had been relieved that Rahn hadn’t been present when she’d told her other teammates what she’d found.

Though Dira had made it clear that she wanted to tell Rahn everything, Bekn and Coup had agreed with Kel to keep it a secret for now.

They still didn’t know exactly how Rahn’s loyalty was divided between Cristo and the Howlers, and Bekn had made it clear that Cristo should only find out after the next race, once they’d cemented their public standing in Vohre.

To distract from Dira’s grumbling and Kel’s frustration, he’d wrangled them into the bustling city center, and Rahn had been only too happy to guide them.

The deeper they wove through Vohre, the more nature and steel became indistinguishable. Green and silver fused like rough paint strokes and colored billboards bloomed from the walls, as bright as the gardens below them.

Kel narrowed her eyes at Dira’s back. Her friend’s dark curls hung loose and tangled with her ruby necklace, nestled just above the thick, black collar of a jacket. “I’ve been looking for that jacket for months .”

Dira lifted her middle finger over her back, not bothering to turn as she cooed, “Glad I found it a better home.”

If Rahn heard their exchange, she ignored it and kept moving.

The technician led them away from the city’s main streets and down a darker alleyway.

The narrow alley forced Kel’s shoulder to bump Coup’s.

Though he seemed unbothered by the touch, he shifted back until there was no risk of it happening again.

Kel tried to ignore the strange tightness between her ribs. Desperate for a new distraction, she called ahead to Rahn, “Have you always lived in Vohre?”

Rahn gave a strange, sharp laugh. The technician picked at the sleeve of her sky-blue sweater. “ Alchemists, no! I grew up on Ebrait. I only moved to Vohre a couple of years ago.”

Bekn made a surprised sound. “Did your parents come here with you?”

They made it halfway down the alley before Rahn replied, “No—I didn’t tell my parents I applied for a Cristo Industries internship.

I never thought I’d get it. I was fascinated by Cendor’s technology and CAPR mechanics, but Ebraitian schools couldn’t—wouldn’t—teach me much.

Canen requested permission from my parents. ”

Rahn laughed again, though the sound was absent of its usual warmth. Curiosity rippled through Kel, drowning her other knotted feelings.

“So he’s been your acting guardian since you got here?” Bekn asked, before Kel could chime in.

If Rahn minded the questions, she hid it well. She half-turned toward them and nodded, her cheeks rosy with windburn. “He knew what to say to get my parents on board. My dad was easy enough to convince, but my mom… it was harder for her to let go of what she wanted for me.”

“What would you have done on Ebrait?” Kel asked.

Rahn didn’t respond. Kel assumed her question had been lost to the sudden chatter echoing down the alley.

The dim lane opened into a courtyard, surrounded by smaller buildings and fewer screens.

It was lit only by gas lamps, open firepits and hazy afternoon light.

Kel never would have found the courtyard on her own.

Rahn tugged Dira toward a flimsy-looking booth at the space’s edge, smoke rising from its roof.

Heady smells filled Kel’s nose, sweet and salty and familiar.

At least a dozen booths fronted signs for different kinds of foods.

Most were Cendorian, but a few offered other Saltan cuisines. Kel’s stomach growled.

People sat around wooden picnic tables and metal firepits, fingers covered in red sauce, ignoring the Howlers’ presence. Kel handed over three ceres for a plate of spicy, smoked meats. She’d half-eaten the contents by the time she found her teammates around a nearby table.

Dira’s and Rahn’s voices overlapped, their words flowing too fast to follow. Kel glanced around at their meals, silently judging their tastes: Dira wolfed down a spiced chickpea curry, Coup dug into a mix of meats similar to Kel’s, and Rahn picked at grilled crab legs dripping in creamy sauce.

Bekn glanced around the table, frowning as he picked at his own plate of crumbed tarts. “You all have terrible taste. Everything on Cendor is cooked with enough hot peppers to turn your stomachs to iron.”

Kel grinned, burning her tongue as she swallowed a hot mouthful. “You’re one to talk. You must be single-handedly keeping Ascira’s pastry exports in business.”

Bekn rolled his eyes, earning a round of laughter from the table.

“Is that what was in the card Cristo got you?” Coup asked Bekn. “A coupon for desserts? I couldn’t see what was inside.”

Bekn’s cheeks flushed.

Dira folded her arms, leaning across the table. “What was it?”

She turned to Rahn, who lifted her hands. “I actually have no clue. Canen picked Bekn’s gift.”

They all leaned forward, staring at their mitigator.

A minute passed before Bekn sighed. “He got me a voucher to a local health resort. He thinks I need to… relax.”

The table erupted with fits of laughter. Kel struggled to breathe around giggles.

“It’s a compliment,” Bekn said. “He thinks I’m a hard worker.”

Rahn chuckled. “If Canen , a self-made billionaire, thinks you’re overworking, you might want to take his advice.”

The other four Howlers laughed again, drowning out the other voices nearby.

Warmth raced through Kel. She hoped Bekn did use the voucher. On an island with combusting birds and fire magic, stress didn’t usually end well.

“Ha. Ha.” Bekn clapped slowly. “Yes, let’s all mock the only legal adult here.”

When that only summoned more laughter, he cleared his throat and turned to Rahn. “You agreed with Cristo that our last race was tame by Vohre’s standards. I’ve done some research, but it’s not the same as having seen the races in person. What are they like?”

Rahn’s forehead creased. “We can’t prepare any more than we have, so what’s the point in worrying?”

“Come on,” Dira drawled. She looped her arm beneath Rahn’s. “What have Vohre’s other tracks really been like?”

Rahn looked up at Dira. She scrunched her nose, before relenting.

“Vohre’s races are all about creating danger under the guise of art.

There was this one track—it was beautiful—made of sky-high mirrors, like a maze.

If the phoenixes collided with any false ends, they’d break through the mirror and fly into jagged metal walls. ”

Dira’s eyes widened, and Coup and Bekn exchanged a look with raised eyebrows.

Oblivious, Rahn went on, “There was another race where CAPR forced phoenixes’ wings to be tied down so they couldn’t fly. The ground was broken up into islands they had to jump between. If they fell… the drop was over two hundred meters.”