Page 133 of Tailwind

I squared up to him, going up on my toes to negate our height difference. ‘Do you really want to pick a fight thirty seconds after becoming friends again?’

His brows twitched up. ‘We’re friends again?’

I shoved against him, using the momentum to walk backwards towards the aviary door.

‘Thin ice, Vaspre.’ I pinched my thumb and finger together. ‘Thin ice.’

He smirked as I shouldered my way through the doors. I glanced back before they closed and saw it morph into a genuine smile. I headed down the corridor to my next appointment, allowing myself to do the same.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

‘Lena, you’ve bought your way back into Volitant Chroma by using money from a northern clothing brand, replacing one of the best riders of this generation—’ The interviewer rattled off his essay of an introduction before getting to his point. ‘Surely you can understand the fans’ hesitance in supporting you, given the irrelevance of the sponsorship and the status of the man you’re trying to make up for?’

I pursed my lips and looked up, pretending to think about my answer. It was the tenth time I was answering the same question, reworded in some inane way by the next publication.

The press room was filled with journalists, interviewers and their casters – all lined up around the edge so the riders could be led along like a prize show-drake.

‘I won’t call anyone in particular out.’ I glanced at Mac Boll who was being interviewed to my left. ‘But I would say Hough is more relevant than some of the other sponsors. All of us need clothes, or are you suggesting that you’d like the only woman rider to walk around naked?’

His face drained of colour – it was a shame the casting orb was only locked on me. Hough wanted attention, I could easily get it for her.

‘As for Bach, I have to disagree. He isn’t one of the best riders of this generation, he’s the greatest rider in the history of the sport. There’s no one I look up to more. Both on and off circuit I’d like to show everyone that I care, just like Bach. I know I can’t replace him, but I’m here to be Lena Paldon, not anyone else.’ I gave them my most winning smile. ‘Well, this time.’

Mac had finished his interview, having moved on without so much of a glare in my direction, making me wonder if Gordi had kept the wyvern story to himself. Behind me Ellas Ruan gave his perfect Victrolia-approved statements, separating me from Theo. I appreciated the buffer, but I wasn’t sure if I still needed it after our conversation.

Martan herded me along. He’d not even attempted to engage in conversation when I arrived and was keeping a respectful distance while leading me along the interview line. A notable improvement from last time.

‘Russell Pugliso, Airborne. Hi Lena, good to meet you for the first time.’ Russell was a lone journalist, no caster to accompany him. Instead just a notepad, pencil and audio recording augment.

I let my shoulders relax for a moment. Airborne was the unofficial Volitant magazine, run by fans of the sport. It usually focused on what happened on the circuit rather than the gossip surrounding it, which made it all the more surprising that Theo had a stash of them on his roof.

‘This will be the first time you fly with your teammate, Huwin Thorne. Given your comments last time you attended a race, has Moss given either of you team orders to play nicely, or should we be expecting an explosive show here at the Sky Pillar today?’

All the moisture in my mouth vanished, leaving me dry and thick-tongued. For the first time I needed the ten-second countdown to scrape together an answer. Preferably one that didn’t let everyone know that staying away from him was my top priority.

‘Well,’ – I swallowed, despite having no saliva to spare. – ‘I think the Sky Pillar is always a race to remember, regardless of the riders, as the final race of the year taking place on the last floating landmass. The Chroma champion will be declared today and I think that’s going to be a defining moment. To answer your question though—’

Martan’s glasses glinted as he pushed them up his nose.

‘The team briefing is after this, so no orders from Moss yet. I’ll be finding out soon whether he has directions for me, Thorne or the both of us.’ It was the truth, but even the idea of Thorne made my stomach twist.

Thankfully Russell only had his notepad to record my reaction, not a casting orb. He was also the last in line, freeing me from my obligations.

I sighed and rolled my shoulders the moment I left the oppressive media room. The cool grey corridors of the Sky Pillar stretched out in front of me, decorated with Volitant banners that fluttered in the ever-present breeze. The reprieve between duties was short – I had several flights of stairs before I got back to Kiestral headquarters for the team briefing.

‘You actually showed up. Not ashamed to show your face this time?’ It was Thorne. He approached the door to the media room, unaccompanied as he sauntered towards me.

My head twitched reflexively, wanting to duck to make myself smaller.

That’s all it was though, a reflex to Thorne’s voice. A year and a half of shrinking myself when he was near had taught my body to repeat itself. Repetition was how we trained hatchlings before they were old enough to understand commands.

I wasn’t a hatchling anymore though. Nor was I fresh out of a fight on the frigid slopes of the Kuramines.

Thorne, however, had lost whatever good his detox had done. His skin had grey undertones again. His eyes still had thin streaks of red in the corners and his voice was hollow. The few words had been enough for me to recognize the emptiness. Maybe he was already back to abusing augments, or maybe his personality was rotting him from the inside out.

‘Ashamed?’ I wasn’t going to let him tear me down. ‘I’ve only scored points in two races and yet I still have as many as you got from six. One of us should be embarrassed, but it’s not me.’

He closed the distance between us in a couple of steps. He was close enough that I could see his pores stretch when his nostrils flared. ‘You’re nothing but a PR stunt. A little girl dragged in to perform while they miss having Lotiere’s ass to shove their noses into.’