Page 37

TWENTY-EIGHT

K el floated through Cristo’s white maze, unsure if she touched the ground. Right now, by her phoenix’s side was the only place she wanted to be.

When she reached the entrance to Savita’s aviary, she glanced at the door’s glass reflection and winced. Her worry for Sav and Coup had declared itself through purple bruises beneath her eyes. But compared to the image of Coup torn open, burns too deep to bleed, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

At the sight of her phoenix, the breath she’d been holding finally left her lungs. Savita lay nestled on the ground, picking at the feathers of her wings, oblivious to what lay beyond her glass walls.

Kel quickly checked Sav’s vitals on the tablet embedded in the wall. Her stomach curdled, preparing for the worst, no clue how the sprites’ magic might have affected Savita’s own.

Bitterness filled Kel’s mouth at the thought. CAPR had pitted another species against phoenixes for the crowd’s entertainment. Coup had been right. Every race was nothing but a pageant.

But Sav’s temperature seemed too stable, too calm, to explain the heat that had shrouded Coup at the finish line. Where were the hints of a rebirth? The flames they’d seen ?

Kel stumbled toward her phoenix, eyes stinging. Cristo was still keeping Savita’s vitals from her. He hadn’t been able to hide them during the race, when they’d needed a live feed, but now, Kel was back to square one.

She’d barely lifted her gloved hands to Savita’s neck when she heard the aviary’s door beep open. Sav lurched to her feet, quickly moving between Kel and the entrance. It might have been endearing, if Savita’s tail hadn’t collided with Kel and knocked her to the ground.

A moment later, Kel heard a heavy, familiar sigh. “I knew I’d find you here.”

Kel ducked her head as she stood. Guilt rippled through her stomach.

“ Nova Press has released updates on the riders in today’s race. Three died. Four more in critical condition. Coup got off easy,” Dira added, her voice flat.

Kel clenched and unclenched her fists. She kept her mouth closed, unsure if words or bile would come out.

Closing the door, Dira folded her arms over her rumpled uniform. “Why did you leave?”

“There was nothing I could do there.”

Dira stormed closer. “Coup asked to see all of us. The second we walked into his room, he asked where you were.”

The words battered at Kel’s empty lungs. “He didn’t want me there. Trust me.”

“ Bullshit , Kelyn! They’re new to the team, but I would’ve thought you —of all people—would want to be there for him. He’s a Howler, and you just—”

“It’s my fault he’s lying in that bed,” Kel exploded.

Dira snorted. “ Alchemists. Everyone thinks it’s their fault.

Even Rahn’s blaming herself, thinking she could’ve saved him if she’d spent more time developing sturdier gear.

But despite what you all believe, this is no one’s fault but Coup’s.

You heard what Bekn said. Coup doesn’t have a cautious bone left in his body.

We all told him to slow down, and he refused.

” Dira chewed on her bottom lip. “Coup’s ego was always going to end up combusting. ”

Kel shook her head. She was too much of a coward to tell Dira the truth: that death stalked her. That it had bound an anchor to her feet.

“I know you, Kel,” Dira grumbled. “And your self-pity is just as unwanted as Coup’s lack of inhibitions.”

Sudden anger sparked at Dira’s words, and Kel held tight to it. She let it pull her up, out of the waves and away from the anchor. Part of her knew Dira was right—even if she didn’t want to admit it.

Bekn had seen what was going on—the destruction Coup brought on himself—and now Dira did, too. None of them could let this keep going. If they did, Coup would truly be lost.

Kel swallowed her anger and reached for Dira’s arm. “Do you know how lucky I am that you snuck into that CAPR race five years ago?”

Dira’s expression softened. “About as lucky as I am that you let a random kid demand a bedroom in your cottage. We should both get some rest. We can deal with everything tomorrow.”

Kel forced a weak smile. “Does this mean you forgive me?”

Dira squeezed Kel’s arm. “I forgave you after our meal in the city. I just decided not to tell you.”

Kel scoffed feebly as Dira shifted forward to embrace her.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately,” Dira mumbled, head tucked into the crook of Kel’s neck. “Fighting is our love language. But you’ve been acting off since we got to Vohre.”

“I know.” Kel tightened her hold on Dira. “I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t mean what I said. I’m happy for—whatever is going on between you and Rahn.”

Dira made a contented sound. “We should head back to our unit.”

Kel stepped back and shook her head, letting brown tendrils fall across her face. “You go. I’m staying here tonight.”

Dira sighed. She stood there, just for a minute, before shrugging off her black jacket.

Kel frowned. “What are you doing?”

Dira sat cross-legged on the dirt. “If you’re staying, I am, too.”

“That’s awful logic.”

“No—you know what’s awful? How you look. When was the last time you got some rest?”

Kel folded her arms. “I’m fine .”

“I’ve been watching the bags beneath your eyes grow like mold.” Dira lifted her chin. “I’m staying.”

Kel didn’t object.

Savita huffed and tucked her head beneath her wing as Kel and Dira found a patch of grass to lie on. As they settled into silence, Kel realized just how tired she was. But her mind refused to let her sleep. No matter how many deep breaths she counted, her thoughts kept spiraling back to Coup.

Sleep seemed to evade her friend, too. Through the darkness, Dira whispered, “We really should tell Rahn about Savita’s nearing rebirth. We can trust her, you know. She’s not Cristo’s minion.”

“I know,” Kel admitted. “But she worships him.”

Dira huffed. “She doesn’t worship him. She just… feels like she owes him. He supported her when her parents didn’t and helped her get settled in Cendor. He treats her like a daughter.”

Kel snorted. Too many Howlers were letting debts define them. “What exactly is going on between you and her?”

Dira smiled timidly—such a foreign expression on the winger. “I really like her, Kel. And I hope she likes me. We’ve made a chart of rooms to make out in, so I think she likes me. But it’s just… easy, with her. She’s never stepped foot in Dresva, but she gets it.”

“Gets what?”

Dira paused, then said, “Leaving Dresva was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Leaving my parents… it was like leaving a piece of myself.

But Dresva was their home as much as it wasn’t mine.

I knew they’d never come with me. Not to a place like Cendor.

Bright, dangerous, wild—they’d hate it for all the reasons I love it.

And even if she didn’t expect to, Rahn’s found just as much of a home here as I have. She understands.”

Dira turned on her side, toward Kel. “I don’t talk about my parents because it hurts.

Not because I don’t trust you. And I just…

I was worried you’d think I was selfish.

For choosing Cendor. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to.

I didn’t want you to think racing wasn’t everything to me, too. ”

Kel reached for Dira’s hand. “I don’t. I promise.”

Softly, Dira said, “As a kid, I’d hear about CAPR races and the money that could come from them. Dresva doesn’t offer anything like that. Staying on Cendor and entering CAPR… it was all just meant to be one long race. I wanted to get in, get some money for me and my parents, and get out. But now…”

Kel gently nudged Dira’s shoulder.

Dira huffed. “Rahn’s forced me to stop lying to myself.”

Kel frowned, an unspoken question. After a while, long enough for the heat lamp overhead to wink out completely, Dira confessed, “My parents have agreed to visit Cendor.”

A shock of warmth flooded Kel. “Dira, that’s—”

“Great, right? That’s why I needed racing. My plan was to earn as much as I could to get us set up for a life, together. I was going to return to Dresva. And with Cristo’s money, I actually can. But… I love racing, Kel.”

Kel squeezed her friend’s hand. She’d always thought that Dira was born for this. “Then stay. Your parents will understand.”

Dira shook her head. “Dresva is different to Cendor. It was always my plan to go back. Eventually.” Dira let out a shaky breath. “Now, I don’t know what to do.”

Kel leaned back and rubbed her arms. A venomous fear prickled her skin.

Though she’d never said it aloud, Kel had known Dira might return to Dresva.

Maybe that was why Kel used to push so hard to learn about Dira’s past, her family.

If she knew what Dira was missing, she could try to fill that hole.

But hearing the pain in her friend’s voice…

maybe she’d never fully understand it, or be able to erase it. And that would have to be enough.

There was a long pause before Dira whispered, “I know it’s early days… but it feels right with the three of them, doesn’t it? Bekn, Rahn, Coup. They fit.”

A weight settled over Kel. “Yeah, they do.”

Maybe it was because they all had so much to lose—but their new team worked . Months ago, Kel never could have imagined finding anything like it away from her farm.

She didn’t want to think about the warmth that followed the confession, and the memory it summoned of her and Coup flying, pressed together, the first of their reluctant truces.

She wanted sleep to smother the fear she felt for their rider.

So, the two girls lay side by side, with Savita at their feet, and let the darkness consume them, hoping it would consume their fears, too.

Until a sharp noise cut open the quiet.