Ahead of Asta, it appeared that a large dragon had slowed in the path of the procession, forcing the other, faster dragons to swerve to avoid it. Riders shouted and gesticulated. Along the edge of the track, marshals chattered uneasily into their radios, unsure what to do.
The lagging dragon, Asta realized all at once, was Vulture, with Natalia in the saddle, pulling back on her reins. Once she had forced her way between Ivan and Asta, Nat picked up the pace to stay even with them. At Nat’s signal, Vulture stretched out one of her dark-brown wings, shoving Ivan and his drake out of line. He let out a string of curses at Asta’s back, but he had no choice except to fall into line behind them.
‘Hey there, fancy pants,’ Natalia said to Asta. After dinner, Nat had changed into her racing kit, a simple navy-blue jumpsuit with the old family shield screened on the chest in two lighter shades of blue. Most riders were superstitious about using the color blue in their kit. It was the official color of Silverscale, and to wear it was to tempt fate, but the Bruces didn’t mind people thinking they were cursed. The quadrants of their shield bore a bear, a dagger, a severed tree stump, and a skeleton key. The shield was crested with a pair of fiery wings. The suit was otherwise unadorned except for a light blue stripe down each side of the suit under the arms– incongruously austere for the likes of the Bruces.
Nat was giddy. ‘That was freaking amazing. One minute you’re riding a dragon, the next you’re ridinga freaking spinning top the size of a truck!You’re the most badass rider here. You know that, right?’
‘Don’t, Nat. It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done it.’
‘Shut up! It was not. Say that again, and I will punch you in the face.’
‘Always violence with you,’ Asta chided.
Nat leaned menacingly out of her saddle toward Asta, her fist clenched. ‘Tell me you know how awesome that was.’
Asta scrunched the reins in her hands, feeling the leather creak against her gloves.
‘Say it.It was awesome.’
‘I’m going to be in so much trouble.’
Nat spat. ‘Screw that. When you rode into this place, no one out there knew who you were, but youshowed them. From the back of the freaking line. Say it.’
Asta allowed a smile to sneak through. ‘It was kind of awesome.’
Nat stood in her stirrups and shouted, ‘It was awesome!’
‘Don’t you have somewhere to be?’ Asta laughed. ‘We’re almost to our anchor points.’
Nat lifted her chin to look down the procession. ‘Oh, yeah. I should go.’ She flashed Asta a big smile. ‘I’m proud of you, Ek. We’ll make a Bruce out of you yet.’ Nat charged forward into the procession, causing tumult as she went.
Ivan retook his place, seething and muttering and refusing to meet Asta’s eye.
The screens flashed with the fiery blue Silverscale logo. That was the signal. Asta looked to the track’s inside edge, and there was their anchor point– a length post marked with a red flag. She and Ivan halted by their assigned spot and turned to face the stands. Asta glanced over her shoulder at the screens on the Needle and saw Felix, at the head of the procession, nudge Essie into a full run. The drake champion beside him did the same. This was the final step. The leaders would run around the track to close the circle of dragons and riders, coming to stop at their anchor point, a few yards away from Asta and Ivan.
Essie was beautiful to watch when she ran. Unpainted and ungreased, her black scales looked as dark as pitch. The highlights of yellow on her face and neck flowed like molten gold over her spine and wings, intensifying at the tip of her tail in a burst of bright feathers. Her talons tore at the track as her lithe body stretched and bent.
Felix’s eyes were locked on their goal. His body was tight and tucked. The close-up showed the way his legs absorbed the movements of the dragon’s gait, the way his back strained against the fabric of his jumpsuit, the intense focus of his hazel eyes. Unable to tear her own eyes away from Felix, Asta almost didn’t realize that Essie had begun to outpace the drake, just as Carmine had. Like brother, like sister.
Asta’s attention dropped from the screen to the track. The procession of dragons, gleaming white and orange, green and shimmering gray, halted as each pair found their anchor point, until finally they were spread out across the full length of the track. As soon as Felix and the drake champion reached their post, the procession would reach its conclusion. The crowd’s cheering grew louder, and several of the dragons reared back their heads and roared along. Asta looked down the track at Felix. Essie was not slowing to let the drake catch up.
Asta could feel her heart beating in her chest. Felix’s eyes should be on his assigned length post, but Asta felt like he was looking right at her.
Every second, Felix was coming closer. Carmine danced with excitement. He had not seen his sister for more than three years, and the scent of Essie on the air made him fidgety with joy. Felix would have to start slowing down soon or he would miss the post. Asta thought she could see a smile breaking across his face. Then he leaned back very slightly in the saddle and gave Essie’s reins two short tugs to the right.
Essie bent into a circle and spun, first one direction, then the other. So he did remember. They skidded into place at their length post, just down the track from Asta and Carmine, kicking up a cloud of dust. The drake rider who had been tailing Felix and Essie slowed to a stop, coughing at the dust.
Why had he repeated her trick? Was it code for something? Asta searched Felix’s face for some clue about what it meant. In all fairness, he could just as easily ask why she had done it in the first place. Maybe he thoughtshehad been sending a message. His face, looking back at her, seemed full of questions.
Then he smiled, and those little curved lines, which she had noticed on the first day they met, sprung up at the corners of his mouth. No wonder he got away with everything. She couldn’t help herself. She smiled back, then laughed.
Felix turned from her and beamed his smile up to the stands. The immediate response from the crowd was so loud that it felt like it would collapse Asta’s chest. Of course, Asta thought, of course that’s what this was. She had wrangled one moment of attention for herself tonight, and he couldn’t resist. He had to turn the spotlight back on himself. At least no one would dare punish the darling of the Grand Prix. And if they didn’t come for him, they wouldn’t come for her, either.
All around the raceway– from the peak of the mountain in the middle of the course, the overhang above the upper stands, and the walls on the far sides of the pits– fireworks exploded in a thunderous cloud of light, color, and smoke. Several of the dragons around the track bolted and had to be coaxed back to their anchor points by their riders. The music swelled, the screens flashed, and the crowd cheered. The opening ceremonies had come to an end.
Almost immediately, the track was flooded with reporters. Most of them pressed around Felix and Essie, but a handful of curious journalists peeled off that dense mob to lob a few questions at the woman who had just made such a spectacle of herself. What was her name? Her ranking? How long had she been competing? Was she hoping to get picked up by one of the racing houses after the tournament?
The questions came faster than Asta could think. Every moment, it seemed like there were more reporters joining the crowd, demanding that she answer them. Carmine sensed her discomfort and shifted uneasily beneath her. With relief, Asta spotted a familiar face in the gaggle at her feet.
