Page 63

Bekn, Coup and Kel helped Dira lift Rahn farther from the track, as gently as possible.

Dira threw off her jacket and covered Rahn’s slashed shoulder, thick, open marks torn through flesh and muscle.

The technician was lucky only her shoulder had been caught—but the right side of her face, neck and torso had been burned away, reminding Kel so clearly of Coup’s burns in his last race. Too much blood pooled around her head.

Rahn whimpered as Dira cradled her. Kel felt hot tears trail down her cheeks.

“We need to get her out of here,” Dira sobbed. “Maybe the Fume hasn’t hit Cristo’s medical wing yet?”

“They hadn’t when we ran past,” Bekn managed, voice low. “I don’t know if there’s anyone still there—but it’s her best chance.”

Rahn whimpered again. Phoenixes raced along the other side of the hall, their combined heat still not as overwhelming as Sav’s.

The smell of burned electrics grew stronger.

Savita spread her wings and craned her head toward the other phoenixes.

Her eyes glowed, ready to claim a victory, whether or not Cristo forced her to.

If they didn’t figure out a solution soon, Sav’s rebirth would beat the blight to Kel’s heart. It would kill them all.

Dira winced as she tried to lift Rahn from the ground. Kel glanced down to Dira’s hands. They were almost as burned and charred as the right side of Rahn’s body. Dira had been too close to the phoenixes when they’d blazed past; she was lucky that only her hands had caught aflame.

“Let me,” Bekn said gently, and lifted Rahn from the ground, cradling her close. “We’ll get her out of here and regroup.”

“Savita won’t have that long,” Kel whispered, doubting anyone heard her.

Bekn shifted closer, toward the door. Rahn jerked in his grip, groaning as she lashed out a hand to Kel.

She gripped Kel’s sleeve with her left arm and fluttered her lashes. “Canen wasn’t meant to build a window to watch,” she croaked. “It was… he didn’t trust everything to go right unless he could see it .”

Adrenaline seeped back into Kel’s bones. She glanced down at the glint of silver at Coup’s hip—the rifle she’d given him. The same weapon that was used to signal the start of CAPR races.

Kel turned toward Cristo’s window, and embers of an idea collided with her adrenaline. She didn’t know how large the room was on the other side of the window—but it was near the edge of the building. Perhaps with another window, facing the outdoors.

She glanced between her teammates. “Go—but I’m staying. I can get Sav out.”

“Kel,” Dira breathed.

“No,” Bekn barked, stepping toward the door. “Whatever you’re planning—you’re not strong enough to fly Sav on your own. And Coup’s the only one who can fly Sav if you…”

Bekn’s cracked words broke Kel’s heart. In the months she’d known the mitigator, she’d only seen glimpses of what lay beneath the stoic surface.

But the glimpses she had seen were of a boy who grieved and screamed and wanted as much as the rest of them.

He might not be filled with Dira’s steel or Coup’s wildness—but he could protect himself as well as any of the Howlers.

Instead of replying, Kel turned to her best friend. Dira folded her arms and clenched her fists, loose curls around her face, climbing flames at her back and sweat wetting her lashes. The picture-perfect Cendorian.

“The farm is yours, if you want it,” Kel said.

Dira swallowed. “It’s ours . I’ll convince my parents to live there, with us. The four of us can take care of each other.” Dira’s eyes darted to Rahn’s broken body. “Or maybe five.”

Kel nodded with a shaky smile. “I can’t wait.”

It was the most heartfelt lie Kel could muster.

Kel turned back toward Sav, placing both hands on her phoenix’s side, above her wing. Raw heat bit into her palms, and she welcomed it.

“Wait—what are you doing, Varra?” Coup asked, latching onto her elbow. His voice was high, pleading, as if afraid of the answer.

“I have to get on Sav,” Kel said flatly. Every word felt heavier than the last. “Go with the others.”

Bekn was calling to Coup, Rahn in his arms, hurrying toward the door. Yet Coup remained unmoving.

“There’s no saddle—what are you meant to hold onto?” Coup shifted closer to Kel. Kel saw him grit his teeth at the heat at his back.

Savita twitched her head around the diamond prison, too many lights demanding her attention. She barely noticed—or cared—when Kel ran her palms under her thicker layer of feathers, trying—failing—to find a hold. She bit down, straining her lead muscles.

“I’ll figure it out,” Kel groaned, moving forward and failing to boost herself onto Sav’s back. Savita grumbled in frustration, tail swatting at Kel’s scrambling form.

Before she could stop him, Coup gripped her around the knees and lifted her up, climbing up the phoenix’s wing behind her. He was careful not to grip her injured hip, but pain still lanced through her side. Her breath hitched, but she refused to make a sound.

“What are you doing?” she seethed. “If this goes wrong—no one else needs to get hurt.”

Though Coup wore his riding leathers, she doubted they’d give him much protection.

She didn’t have the strength to shove him off. If she even closed her eyes, she mightn’t be able to open them again. Even blinking was becoming a gamble with fate. But she couldn’t risk Coup’s life as well.

“You’ll fall off on your own,” he threw back, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I can handle the heat long enough for us to get out. Just hurry up and tell me your plan.”

Cristo shouted something through the comms, but over the crackling of Savita’s flames, Kel couldn’t make out the words. Sweat streamed down her neck and the other phoenixes bellowed across the hall.

Beneath Kel, Savita was a growing furnace. Waves of fiery heat rose up into Kel’s face. She struggled to swallow down the steaming air. The collar around Sav’s neck was now barely a thin, crumbling chain.

They were out of time.

Kel swore. Then she twisted toward Coup and whispered her plan.

Coup clutched the sancter in one hand and she clenched her shaking thighs tighter around Sav.

She bit down on the pain and leaned forward.

With trembling fingers, she palmed the yellow feathers at the top of Sav’s neck and guided the phoenix forward, back toward the black track streaking the diamond.

Kel coaxed Savita into a crouch. She risked a glance toward the hall’s door—just in time to see Bekn, Rahn and Dira sprinting through. She exhaled.

Kel forced down a deep, hot, smoky breath, and screamed, “You wanted a race? Fine! You’ll get one.”

Kel guided Savita into the air in two quick feather strokes. It took almost no convincing for Savita to spread her wings and launch into the air, finally allowed to compete.

Coup tightened his hands around Kel’s waist, holding her steady as she directed Sav forward, faster . She gained speed quicker than Kel could have expected in a contained space. Three other phoenixes shrieked as Sav shot past, two more following seconds later.

Fire danced and swirled around the hall, crackling and filling Kel’s ears.

Savita pivoted, soaring along its fractured length.

Flames licked the reflective walls, cascading across the diamond in a reddened waterfall.

Lynx nipped at Savita’s tail and another phoenix pulled to Sav’s left.

But whether it was because of her nearing rebirth or the ruthlessness she’d been born with, no phoenix managed to outpace Savita.

She flew along the hall faster than Kel had ever seen her move, hotter than she’d ever felt.

Soon enough, she’d burn Kel and Coup alive.

They lapped the hall. Despite the furnace climbing over her, despite the pain she knew Coup felt at her back, Kel spurred Savita faster. Hotter.

Another lap, and fire singed the damp hairs pressed against her cheeks. Another, and Kel felt as though she sat on a bed of burning coals, seeping into her blood and demanding she scream. Another lap, and Savita became too hot to touch. She felt her legs blistering and her weight tipping.

One more lap, and when Savita swooped around the hall’s edge, furthest from Cristo’s viewing window, Kel screamed, “ Now! ”

The sancter rang out at Kel’s back. The sound needled at her ears.

Lightning fractured the hall and crackled through the air.

Phoenix screams mingled together, crashing against the diamond in a tangled, deafening web.

Halfway down the length of the hall, toward the tinted window, Savita’s wings beat a chaotic, frightened rhythm.

Coup had timed the shot well. The phoenixes were moving too fast to stop, even if Cristo tampered with their collar controls. Each of these phoenixes had participated in enough CAPR races to know what a sancter shot meant: for the next few hundred meters, their track was clear, straight.

Savita’s confusion slowed her, and two larger phoenixes shifted ahead of them.

Each of the six firebirds battled their own instincts.

They’d been conditioned to fly straight after that sound, to use a burst of strength to climb ahead on a track.

But had they been conditioned enough to collide with a window?

Even if they’d wanted to stop—the phoenixes were moving too fast. Through scorching winds, Kel risked a glance up, ahead of them, and spotted her own wide-eyed, blistering reflection. She saw their future as it collided with the glass panel, flexing beneath the heat.

Kel leaned as far forward as she could, hiding her face. Before she scrunched her eyes closed, before the world shattered around them, Kel noticed that two other phoenixes were still ahead of Savita—just a few inches.

As they collided with the wide window, Kel had never been happier to place third.