Asta left with her parents. They could hear the shouting begin as soon as they shut the front door.
The letter came on Thursday morning. As soon as she read the words– fall admission, full scholarship– Asta ran out the front door, leaving the letter on the kitchen table.
She found Felix casting illusions behind the stables. When she told him the news, he threw the illusion into the air, where it blew apart in a sparkling shower like fireworks.
They would go together after all. And when they graduated– Asta having signed with some prestigious house and on the road to Silverscale, Felix ready to race for his family– Felix could give her back the rock that they had sworn on, and they would finally have everything they wanted.
When Asta got home, hours later, the letter was still there on the table, but underneath it, folded neatly, was a riding jumpsuit made of the same heavy canvas as the coveralls Papa wore in the barn, a little flame sewn into the cuff of one of the sleeves.
The Silverscale Grand Prix: Day Three
Standard Western Class Prelims
14
Asta woke up to Carmine’s hard nose ramming into her shoulder. She opened her eyes and slowly oriented herself. The gray carpet. The headboard. The hatch with a dragon’s red head and neck snaking through it, prodding her relentlessly. Her head was pounding. She vaguely remembered Gem shaking her, but she wasn’t sure how long ago that had been. She had the sinking feeling she had promised him something before he left.
Carmine took the covers in his teeth and pulled, leaving Asta exposed on the soft bed.
‘Hey,’ she complained. ‘I was using that.’ Her head hurt. Her eyeballs hurt. She shouldn’t have drunk so much last night.
Carmine huffed, smoke on his breath.
Asta coughed. ‘Excuse you. What is your problem?’
The realization hit her all at once. Her qualifying heat. She sat bolt upright and looked frantically for a clock.
‘Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.’ The race was starting in twenty minutes. She was out of bed in an instant. She stubbed her bare toe on her helmet in the bottom of the closet and cursed. She was pulling on the embroidered jumpsuit when Gem stormed through the door.
‘Asta! Do you have any idea what time it is?’
‘Yes, I’m sorry! I’m coming.’
‘What time did you get in last night?’
‘Late.’
The article from yesterday, casting her as the villain in Felix Seraphin’s glorious quest for victory, had put her in a bad mood. Finally, she’d let Nat pry the course map for today’s race out of her hands and take her out dancing. Nat had danced close with Asta, provocative and shameless.
‘That’ll give the papers something to write about,’she had said into Asta’s ear. She had immediately abandoned Asta for a stone-faced couple in metal-studded clothing who, within minutes, Nat beguiled into softness and smiles.
Nat had returned to Asta every so often to flirt, give a status report on her plans with the couple, and make sure Asta had a full drink in her hand.
Asta hadn’t minded being left on her own. It felt good, for just a few hours, to forget about everything awaiting her in the coming days, to just be a body in motion, moving to the music. Asta had danced with strangers and drunk her drinks until the room swam.
The room was still swimming.
Gem was glowering at her. ‘Honestly, Asta, you know what’s at stake.’
‘I know! I know!’ That was precisely the problem. Too much was at stake. She built her whole life around this tournament, and it was just too much. ‘I said I’m sorry.’ She sat on her bed and pulled her boots on, lacing them as quickly as she could with clumsy fingers. ‘Anyway, it’smyass on the line.’
‘Yourass? That’s rich, Asta.’
Asta’s heart dropped. Gem was hoping to make a name for himself as a talent manager. What he really wanted to do was manage musicians. But if his own cousin and first client flamed out on his watch, it would not do him any professional favors. His shot at knocking elbows with his idols on the red carpet, his dream of discovering the voice of a generation, would be that much harder. He’d be lucky to book a jug band for the Medley Day parade.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said again, but this time she meant it.
‘I’ll get Carmine and meet you out front in three minutes.Three.’
