Page 42

THIRTY-TWO

“ T his can’t be the right way, can it?” Kel mused.

She guided Savita across a bed of flattened shrubbery.

They’d known nothing about the race prior to Cristo giving them the GPS location.

Kel hadn’t known what to expect after the two last races; she certainly hadn’t expected the GPS to steer them to Vohre’s northeast edge, where the forest met the city’s border.

To Kel’s left, Dira shrugged. “Other teams have pulled up, and I can hear a crowd up ahead. It must be the right way.”

With other crews guiding their phoenixes ahead and behind them, the Howlers rounded a corner among the growing greenery.

They wove further from the city’s edges, into the outer layers of Vohre Forest. The trees at their sides had been hacked away to create a path wide enough for phoenixes, though a dense forest still guarded against most of the morning light.

Nausea swirled in Kel’s stomach at the sight of the destruction.

“We don’t need to place in this race,” Rahn reminded Kel, her face scrunched. “Not after winning the last two. We just need to show that Savita isn’t a threat to anyone. I’m not thrilled that we’re racing without our usual rider, but I trust Cristo.”

The certainty in Rahn’s voice made Kel’s ears ache. They hadn’t spoken much in the past week, mostly because Kel didn’t know what to say to the technician. How much had Dira told her? Kel still didn’t know how deeply Rahn’s loyalty to Cristo ran, and the unknown prickled at her skin.

As they rounded another corner, Kel’s mouth fell open. A massive oval space had been cleared of all trees as a starting line. New, gleaming silver rails illuminated the race’s path, straight into Vohre Forest’s hungry maw.

“They want us to fly through the forest?” Disbelief soaked her words. “That’s—impossible.”

Crew booths had been haphazardly propped up around the edges of the clearing.

Crowd stands had been raised in tall, narrow rows, to make the most of the restricted space.

Though spectators couldn’t see much of the track beyond the starting line, giant screens had popped up, encircling the clearing.

Cameras must have been placed along the track to broadcast the race.

Kel couldn’t imagine how quickly everything had been erected to avoid Vohre’s media leaking the details.

Savita could fly through the forest as easily as any racetrack.

Perhaps even easier, as she loved to fly in the muggy heat.

But Vohre Forest was the last natural habitat of Cendor’s wild phoenixes.

Groups across the island were already fighting hard to preserve every last acre of the forest. Yet, somehow, CAPR had gained council permission to clear an enormous track through the edges of it.

“We can’t compete,” Coup said, shuffling ahead of them. “This isn’t right. Even if it was, CAPR can’t keep wild phoenixes off the track if they stumble upon it. Who knows how Savita would react?”

Dira folded her arms. “And we’ve never entered a race where we couldn’t see the track from our booth. Kel and Sav will be going in completely blind!”

Kel tightened her grip on Savita’s reins, palms clammy through her leather gloves. Her phoenix seemed oblivious to the danger, raking her claws along the flattened grass.

“It’s better than the alternative.” Kel gritted her teeth. She refused to let the council think Sav a threat.

“She’s right,” Rahn said softly. “Canen means well, but… he has strict expectations for his CAPR teams. We represent him. If we pull out of the race, I don’t know if the Howlers will be participating in future races with his sponsorship.”

Kel’s throat tightened. No one said a word as the noise around them grew, excitement and fear mingling in the air.

Kel lifted a gloved hand to stroke Savita’s neck. “We compete, or we lose everything.”

Dira shook her head. “But you—”

“Wild phoenixes won’t venture this close to the edge of the forest,” Kel said, forcing confidence into her voice. “They won’t find the track.”

“And if they do?” Coup placed a gloved hand beside Kel’s on Savita’s neck. “Phoenixes—tamed or not—don’t take kindly to intruders in their territory.”

Kel had no reply. She knew, without even glancing down the starting line, that CAPR hoped for wild phoenixes to find them. They hoped to provoke the wild creatures with their latest track. Making them living, blazing obstacles.

Kel didn’t respond. With the sudden nerves drying her throat, she didn’t know if she could.

Instead, she tugged Savita toward the burgundy tent stamped with their insignia.

She tried to focus on the anger she felt at CAPR instead of the horrors ahead, already prickling her arms with goose bumps.

CAPR was willing to clear out Vohre Forest, the phoenixes’ last remaining habitat, for entertainment.

Provoking them for fun. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised, after the last race. But what else were they capable of?

As her teammates shuffled around her, organizing equipment, she tried to shake free an old echo in her head.

You’re no different than the rest of CAPR.

Whether or not Coup still believed those words, she now knew they were true. It didn’t matter why she was competing or what she had to lose. He had been right to call her self-righteous, to challenge her. But she didn’t know how to right her actions without losing Savita.

Kel placed both hands on the underside of Sav’s beak. Her phoenix leaned into the touch, trust keeping her feathers smooth and her tail swishing.

Sirens blared overhead, signaling the looming race. Kel struggled to breathe around a fresh wave of nerves.

Rahn appeared to Kel’s right, stumbling beneath the weight of a duffel bag. “Ready to gear up?”

Her heart jittered. With only a few days to train on Sav, she most definitely wasn’t ready. Kel quickly tugged the duffel bag from Rahn, easing it onto the ground. She tried to ignore Dira’s and Coup’s heated whispers in the furthest corner of the tent.

Rahn quickly began rummaging through the bag.

She nestled an upgraded comms device in Kel’s ear, helped Kel adjust Savita’s latest saddle, and checked the new full-body airbags threaded into the riding leathers.

The last wouldn’t protect Kel if Savita heated up like she had during the previous race, but at least she could jump from the saddle and not break every bone in her body.

Rahn’s fingers traced Kel’s gear with light, precise movements, and she hummed absently as she worked. Kel was surprised to recognize the tune.

“What’s got you smiling?” Rahn asked.

Kel hadn’t realized she’d been smiling. “My father used to sing me that lullaby. He was terrible—off-key and croaky—but I loved the song.”

“The Gilded Lullaby” was one of her favorites. The lyrics snuck into the fissures of her skull, echoing in her father’s raspy voice. It sang the legend of Ryker’s fatal injury: torn apart by a sea monster he’d swam too close to, and then reborn through Deja’s shared magic.

For two years, Kel had rarely let herself think of such stories.

But after seeing Coup so burned and broken, she wondered if, instead of ignoring the pain, she should let it envelop her.

Maybe it would work through her, bit by bit, until she’d drained the pain from her memories like pus from a wound.

Until she could think of her father and smile instead of cry.

Rahn’s eyes sparked. “I’d never heard the song until I came to Cendor, but it’s oddly comforting.”

Kel watched as Rahn checked the CAPR equipment with hardly a glance. Rahn might not have been born in Cendor—but, like Dira, she was born for it.

“Are you glad you left Ebrait?” Kel asked.

Rahn gave an instant nod. “I was terrified at first. But Canen helped me make Vohre my home. My mom was… she’s important in Ebrait.

She wanted me to follow in her footsteps.

Without someone like Canen vouching for me, I don’t think I would have had the courage to leave,” she added, with a soft chuckle.

“He’s given me so much.” She shrugged softly.

“And… I guess if the Howlers make a name for ourselves under Cristo’s sponsorship, it’ll show my parents that this was the right choice, too. ”

“I get it,” Kel said. “We all have a lot riding on these races.”

Rahn said nothing as she wrapped a thin leather bracelet around Kel’s left wrist. One end bore a metal pin that needled through the other end, locking it in place. The Howlers’ barbed, flaming insignia had been pressed into the leather.

Kel ran a thumb over the bracelet. “What’s this?”

Rahn had already moved on to her next task.

“Oh. That’s just a tracker. There’s an emergency button stitched into the underside of the leather, in case you need immediate evacuation mid-race.

You have to press down pretty firmly to activate it.

” Rahn ducked her head, loose wisps of hair falling over her face. “I had it made after the last race.”

Kel nodded, understanding. After Coup nearly incinerated himself.

The memory sent her heart pounding.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Rahn’s tech will protect you if anything… happens,” Dira cut in, stalking toward them, a tablet in one hand. “I’ll be watching you through your helmet camera. Just stay alive, and we’ll do the rest.”

Kel gave a purse-lipped smile.

Dira’s gaze trailed over Kel, checking her gear. “Did you watch the videos I sent you last night? There are a few competing riders I want you to watch out for, but I found some old race recordings flagging their weaknesses.”

Kel grimaced. “You sent me videos?”

Dira sighed. “If you don’t get some sleep after this race I’m going to start stapling reminders to your forehead.”

Rahn giggled, shifting away—checking a stack of equipment across the tent—and Dira’s eyes followed her, returning to Kel only when Rahn’s back was turned.

“I keep thinking about what you found in The Prism ,” Dira mumbled, too soft for anyone but Kel to hear.

“And what we saw in the aviary. I’m sorry for dismissing it.

I was just…” Her gaze darted back to Rahn.

“If you think something’s strange, I’ll back you up.

We’ll figure out what’s going on after this race. ”

Kel’s chest ached. Unsure what to say, she reached out to Dira and squeezed her hand.

The warning siren shot through the air before Kel could respond.

Coup marched over to Kel. “You don’t have to do this, tamer.”

Yes, I do. “I know.”

Coup waggled three fingers. “I can give you three pretty sound reasons why you shouldn’t. One: wild phoenixes . Two: wild phoenixes . And three… You don’t look well.”

Another wave of nerves rattled through her. She fidgeted with her leather sleeves. Kel couldn’t think of much worse than crossing paths with wild phoenixes—but what choice did she have?

“He means you look terrible ,” Dira amended.

“Thanks,” Kel said dryly, pulling her goggles on.

She didn’t bother refuting their insults. She’d been sleeping dreadfully since they’d arrived in Vohre, worrying about Savita and whatever was going on at Cristo Industries. But that same worry filled her with a burning fire that she knew would help her in the race.

Another siren blasted and Kel mounted Savita. Together, she and Coup hurried to guide Savita out of the tent and to the starting line. His crutches were gone, but he still limped slightly, and she knew bandages still cocooned most of his body while his skin stitched back together.

As the other Howlers wished Kel luck and fell back toward their tent, Coup lingered at Savita’s side. He reached up a hand to test the buckles around Kel’s right ankle. She felt his fingers tighten around her boot.

“I’ll keep an eye on Sav’s vitals. Don’t get yourself killed, all right? The media loves our star-crossed romance too much.”

His voice had its usual teasing lilt, but the tight lines around his eyes made her stomach lift. “ Hmm , it’s not so fun when your teammate risks their life, is it?”

A muscle in Coup’s jaw spasmed. “Just don’t do anything I would do, okay?”

Kel’s smile dimmed. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Coup so grave, no trace of amusement softening his features.

Part of her wanted to reach out and smooth the crease between his brows.

To wrap her arms around him in case this race ended as viciously as he seemed to think it might.

But despite their kiss, they hadn’t voiced what it might have meant—to either of them.

Kel swallowed. “Okay.”