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Kel’s stomach hollowed as Rahn continued, “In another race, CAPR simulated a freezing blizzard. The phoenixes were unused to the temperature drop, so most overcompensated and fried their riders.”

Bekn raised a hand. “Okay. New team verdict. It’s a terrible idea to learn specifics.” He turned toward the other Howlers. “There’s a reason three times as many riders die in Vohre’s races. These are the races televised across Salta. We just have to give audiences a show, and we’ll be fine.”

Bekn’s voice was uneven, as if his words were to convince himself, too.

Ignoring Bekn, Dira said, “For the mirror maze—if Sav stayed close enough to a wall, and she grew hot enough, we might be able to tell which routes were open paths. The mirrors would fog up.”

Dira’s words spun cogs in Kel’s mind. She glanced down at a split in the faded table, imagining the ants crawling along it had fiery wings.

“For the island track—Sav’s not the strongest, but she’s fast. If we waited to see what path the other phoenixes used first, Sav could jump between the islands quick enough. ”

Coup nodded. “Or we could provoke another phoenix into attacking. If we angled and timed it right, their talons could slice right through the bindings holding Savita’s wings. She could fly straight to the finish line.”

Against her will, Kel was impressed.

The Howlers’ voices overlapped, brainstorming ways they could best the terrains.

Even Bekn tossed forward a few reluctant ideas.

As an open fire warmed her back, Kel marveled at how much had changed in just a few weeks.

She couldn’t deny that the five of them worked well together.

Though her chest still ached when she thought of Oska and Rube, and Coup’s arrogance still made her cheeks burn, these Howlers simply fit .

Their minds attacked CAPR in different ways.

Different strategies and ideas that somehow wove together into a tapestry instead of a collision.

They each dug back into their plates, returning to the table with second helpings. Kel drifted in and out of their conversation. She tried to keep her mind away from the compound, from Savita, where she couldn’t do anything, and couldn’t—

Rahn’s laughter pulled Kel from her thoughts. Facing Dira, Rahn said, “I love that you have no problem feeding Savita slabs of raw meat with your bare hands, but won’t eat a strip of meat yourself.”

Dira licked sauce from her thumb. “Feeding Sav keeps her from looking at me like a snack. I’m just outsourcing my carnivorous habits.”

Rahn giggled and nudged Dira’s side. It was such an easy, familiar gesture, which Dira returned, grinning around a mouthful of food.

“Aren’t Dresvan serpents carnivorous?” Bekn asked. “They eat rodents and insects, right? Did you have to feed them, like Savita?”

“Serpents hunt their own food,” Dira replied. “Since when do you have an interest in Dresvan serpents? Looking to move islands?”

Bekn shrugged. “Would it be so bad to live among creatures that aren’t big enough to eat me?”

Bekn’s eyes flickered to Coup, almost too fast to notice. Quickly, he added, “You know what I mean. That’s why Cristo’s work is so important. He’s protecting phoenixes and people.”

Kel frowned, looking at Coup. The rider hung his head, unusually still.

“Canen wants to do so much more for Cendor,” Rahn chimed. “He’s willing to sacrifice so much for his research. The studies he’s conducting for AB treatments seem almost magical. You wouldn’t believe it.”

“He tells you everything he’s doing?” Dira asked.

Rahn nodded. Her adoration was almost tangible.

Dira tilted her head. “Really? Do you know why he’d bother trying to hide—”

Kel kicked Dira’s shin under the table. A sudden, hot anger buzzed through her. Dira pursed her lips and swiveled to glare at Kel.

Rahn frowned at Dira. “Are you okay?”

“She’s talking about the gifts Cristo bought us and tried to hide,” Bekn interjected.

Slowly, Rahn nodded. Bekn kept Rahn occupied as Dira continued to glare daggers at Kel.

Ever so slightly, Dira tilted her head to the left, a silent cue for Kel to leave the table. Both rose from their seats under the guise of pilfering more food. Anger coursing through her, Kel followed Dira behind a smoking food cart, well beyond ear’s reach of the Howlers’ table.

“Seriously?” Dira hissed, arms folded. “You still don’t trust Rahn? What has she done to make you so—”

“Nothing,” Kel shot back. “But we all agreed not to tell her. Not until we know she trusts us more than Cristo.”

Dira’s nostrils flared. “ I didn’t agree to that. I trust her, Kel. Why isn’t that enough for you?”

“Why do you trust her more than me ?” Kel snapped. “Why do you suddenly know what’s best for the Howlers?”

The pain on Dira’s face barely registered in Kel’s mind. They’d had countless fights before—but Kel had never felt this kind of fury at her best friend.

“That’s not fair. I’ve always put the Howlers first,” Dira spat. “I’ve been fighting for the Howlers for just as long as you have. Having Leon Varra as your father doesn’t mean you always know what’s best.”

Dira’s words hit her like a physical blow. They were too similar to what Coup had once said, claiming she had the Varra name to save her if the Howlers didn’t. A painful storm brewed in Kel’s skull.

“Maybe if I knew more about your past, I’d know if you had an opinion worth hearing. Maybe if you were half as good at strategizing as you are at keeping secrets, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.”

Dira’s lips parted, as if Kel had slapped her. All the anger suddenly seeped from Kel’s bones. She felt hollow.

Dira stepped back. She scanned Kel, as if not recognizing what she saw.

“I’m sorry,” Kel stammered, reaching for her friend. “I didn’t mean—”

Dira shoved past Kel and marched back to the Howlers.

Where had that anger come from? Slowly, Kel wrapped her arms around herself and shuffled back to their table. She tried and failed to lock eyes with Dira. If the others noticed the tension, they said nothing.

Kel sat, staring at her plate, too cowardly to join in with her teammates’ laughter. She didn’t know where that venom had come from. Was the stress of their upcoming race affecting her more than she’d realized? Was her concern for Sav flaring in cruel ways?

She didn’t know the answer. But until she did, she suspected the venom would only keep growing.