Another stone dolphin tips forward. Two laps down.
Iro has realised what’s happening with Indol; the Will marking Indol’s chariot is suddenly moving faster as it exits the turn behind, pulling away from Aequa. I respond in kind, focusing and using the entirety of my imbued Will to drive her forward; she creeps closer until she’s on his heels once again. Indol’s speed doesn’t increase in response. Either Iro hasn’t noticed it’s needed, or—more likely—doesn’t have enough Will imbued to go any faster. The two of them may be at the back, but they’re rapidly catching up now.
The next lap passes in a cacophonous, dusty haze as we grapple with our chariots and imbuing; the field slowly contracts, all eight of us bunching together again as Iro slows and Indol and Aequa gain. I’m on the heels of Felix and Marcellus, now. Moving faster than them as Aequa’s strength and control outshines that of Diana and Tiberius, particularly as they continue to clash behind me.
I can see Marcellus darting anxious glances back in my direction as I near. He can hear the growl of my approach. Has realised whose chariot this is. Knows exactly what I think of him.
But as much as I despise his cowardice in the Iudicium, I’m not about to risk crashing out for a grudge. So for now, I’ll settle for being a distraction.
What I don’t count on is how it makes Marcellus panic.
It happens just after the start of the fourth lap, right after he’s cast another fearful look over his shoulder at my shrieking stone wheel. He twists in the wrong direction, leaving Felix—who is still keeping pace with him, only a few feet back on the outside—on his blind side. Felix spots Marcellus’s mistake and twitches in, considering an attack, but doesn’t commit. Marcellus straightens. Sees Felix is closer from the corner of his eye. Realises what he’s thinking.
The boy in the red chariot cries out and yanks at his reins fiercely, swinging violently outward in what is presumably an attempt to meet the anticipatedattack. Felix has backed off, though. Marcellus’s move was made with an expectation of an impact to lessen the sharpness of the turn. His speed tilts him. Brings him up on one wheel.
His chariot flips.
It all happens in the space of a second. I see it as if it took minutes. Marcellus’s black eyes go wide. He flails. Jerks his reins in a vain attempt to straighten. His body snaps sideways; he tries to jump but the chains wrapped around his waist hold him down. He’s dragged beneath the rolling wood.
The chariot disintegrates on top of him. Wood splinters and groans and shatters. Sand and dust sprays an opaque curtain. The stone wheel slews and somersaults into the brown haze. I see glimpses of protruding limbs as the wreckage cartwheels end over end over end; Marcellus’s shriek pierces the chaos and then it’s swiftly, frighteningly cut off.
Ahead to my right, Felix shouts and veers wide, peeling away from the flying debris, though he started just far enough to the side that he was never at serious risk.
I, on the other hand, was right behind Marcellus.
Everything slows as the disaster plays out. There’s no turning, no trying to avoid the mess in front of me, not unless I want to end up exactly like Marcellus. I twitch to the left, away from where I think Marcellus might end up, but otherwise keep my stone wheel straight and brace myself, clenching the chariot’s green frame with my one hand.
I hurtle into the dust. It gets in my eyes, my mouth, thick and dry. I can’t see more than a foot or two ahead. My sense of Marcellus’s stone wheel is flying off to the right; thankfully Felix seems able to see it because he adjusts, thundering by a few feet away. Something crunches beneath the grinding roar of my own stone wheel. My chariot jolts violently. Even with the Will in my legs, even crouching and prepared, my feet leave the small wooden platform. Only my grip on the frame keeps me from flying off. My arm feels like it’s being wrenched from its socket. The splintering sounds beneath me make me certain at least one of my wooden wheels has been destroyed. There’s a moment of weightlessness.
Then my feet are hitting the wood again and I’m still, miraculously, on the chariot that is still, miraculously, surging forward. I burst through the dust cloud and into clear air again, blinking specs from my eyes just in time to register that I’m about to hit the corner. Red wreckage spins away off the track at theedge of my vision. I’m gasping. Hand shaking as it unlatches from the chariot railing to control the reins again, pulling me left into the turn.
I’m alive. Still in the race.
I’m also ahead of Felix now after he took the corner wide, putting me behind Iro alone. In my mind I can see one of the stone wheels behind me slowing rapidly, dropping back and moving to the outer edge of the track. No doubt Tiberius’s chariot. Marcellus is either unconscious or just letting his teammate retire, but either way, the Will imbued in it is still there. That’s good. I may not think much of Marcellus, but I certainly don’t want to see him dead.
Both Aequa and Indol have passed Diana now and are on Felix’s heels; I may be ahead of the group but the four of us form an uncomfortably tight pack, and I start to understand Marcellus’s nervousness. The rumbling grind of massive stone wheels behind me feels like it’s crawling up my back. If I wasn’t able to position everyone mentally, I don’t think I’d be able to resist glancing over my shoulder. I almost can’t anyway.
Iro hits the next curve less than twenty feet ahead, the gap gradually but consistently shortening as Indol grapples with Aequa’s harassment. She’s still on his tail: he’s also boxed in on his right by Felix and on his left by the centre railing. We’re in a good position. Felix and Diana will still want to win for Governance on their own, of course; Diana is strongly placed to focus on getting Felix into first, so like Aequa, I doubt they’ll actually risk a collision just to take out Indol. But even so, as long as Indol’s battling on multiple fronts, his focus will necessarily be dragged away from helping Iro.
We fly through the curve together, all dust and thunder. People have raced onto the sand to clear Marcellus and much of the debris from his chariot. His stone wheel has shattered some of the wall where it exited the track.
Five dolphins down. Two to go.
I’m on Iro’s heels. Indol’s on mine.
There’s a wobble behind me as Indol feints to the right, trying to get Felix to back off and give him room to manoeuvre. He knows exactly what Aequa will risk doing to him if Iro is still winning on the final lap. Felix doesn’t budge. Indol moves again and this time there’s a screeching of wood as the two touch. Felix shouts his alarm but holds his nerve. Diana isn’t too far behind; she must be throwing all her speed into Felix’s chariot, because now would be the smart time for her to push her teammate up. I’m not complaining, though.
Indol hasn’t given up; he starts attacking Felix’s side with constant bumps,the crashing of chariots and cracking of wood connecting audible even over the roar of the stone horses. Felix is yelling his frustration and worry as we hit the corner. No doubt that it’s Indol initiating the bumps. I consider driving Aequa forward, threatening Indol again, but I don’t want to risk that either. I can barely believe he’s still powering Iro as fast as he is, while attacking Felix and worrying about Aequa right behind him. I don’t think anyone else out here could come close to doing that, myself included. It really was for good reason that he was ranked first in our class.
There’s another cry from Felix and then a massive splintering as the two Will pulses in my mind meet again. I chance a look behind me.
Indol’s slightly ahead of Felix now; he’s leaning dangerously far over the side of his blue chariot. Eyes flooded black. Fist raised. He brings it down right as the two seem about to collide again.
As I watch in disbelief, he shatters one of the white-painted supports between Felix’s chariot and his horse.
Felix’s stone wheel wobbles and then careens off to the side as the front of his chariot slams into the ground. Felix has no chance of hanging on: the chains around his waist are still connected to the wheel. He screams as he’s yanked like a rag doll out of the chariot and through the sand, tumbling end over end, twisting and helpless. I have to tear my gaze away from the explosion of wood and dust. Focus back on my own race before seeing where he ends up, let alone whether he’s alright.
Just the four of us left, now; Diana is slowing dramatically at the back, though again I can still sense Felix’s Will in her wheel, so at least he’s not dead. Aequa has held her nerve, has remained on Indol’s tail. She’ll have less impact with Felix no longer blocking Indol’s ability to manoeuvre, but Indol knows that if he swings out of her path, he’ll be relieving the pressure on me. He can’t afford that.
