Page 140 of Tailwind

One after another they battered against my armour, ignoring Thorne who had managed to pull up next to us.

The bright white glow behind the eyes of his visor was as menacing as my own. We were mirrored – flying flat out on our two Kiestral orange dragons.

The trees got more and more sparse, opening up out on to the starting plateau. I was about to cross the line for the first complete lap – I wasn’t going to do it in last place.

I tilted, leaning Gottyk to the right. Thorne adjusted, using the space of the plateau to avoid us. Then we tilted back to the left. We wove along, ignoring Thorne. It only took a couple of repetitions for him to give up on anticipating our moves.

I bit my lip, gleeful. It had taken Bach the better part of an hour to let down his guard.

Gottyk moved right a final time, going all in. We cut Thorne off, forcing him to avoid a crash with us. We made it to the end of lap one.

There was a big difference between me and Thorne. He was washed up, past his prime by a decade and had let his skills rot. All of that had let me overtake him, but it wasn’t the difference that mattered.

He had forgotten the joy of racing.

Once again the plateau vanished beneath us and we catapulted into the open sky. I was racing my dragon at the fucking Sky Pillar. No one was going to stop me from enjoying it.

Together Gottyk and I passed through the arcanite caves. With my axe stowed on my back I could move in sync with my dragon. I thought of my flight with Surquet, the way the metallic Forge dragon had been able to anticipate what I wanted. Gottyk seemed to read my mind, reacting like he wanted to prove himself.

We danced through the shining opalescent maze. Gottyk was sharp and graceful, twisting around the stones with intention. When we flew with the path instead of fighting to find our own there was no need to slow down.

We caught the other riders and their dragons as we reached the Monument Yard. Any arcans that targeted me I used as projectiles against the other teams. Volitant could send as many as they wanted – I’d spent my life dealing with more dragonshit than everyone else and survived. That wasn’t going to change now.

Lap by lap we pulled ourselves forward. We passed the Bolls on their Mirendi whites, we lost Omar and Colly somewhere in the caves, putting us in fifth.

‘Yellow light in the Monument Yard. Jas Thokan and Mac Boll collision as the Mirendi was lapped.’ Josie’s update arrived with only one lap left. ‘They’re okay, but they’re out. Push now.’

We were fourth. One more overtake and I would be on the podium. Pulling off three in one lap … the win would be well-deserved if I could do that.

‘Josie, who’s ahead of me?’

‘Ellas Ruan in first, Quinn Potts in second …’

Only the current Volitant Chroma Champion and the rider who had beaten me my entire junior career. That was fine. There was a slight pause before she told me who was next. I’d been keeping track though – there was only one other rider left. More frustrating than the other two combined – the rider who could match me move for move, who knew me as well as I knew myself.

‘Theo Vaspre, three seconds ahead.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

We flew around the collision site in the Monument Yard, using it as an excuse to build some height and emerged on to the open plateau. Theo and Taicasso were streaking towards the edge, halfway there.

Feverish energy built up in my chest, rushing out into my limbs before taking over my head too. The thrill of the race was doubling. Theo had been right – racing an old teammate really was excellent motivation.

We dived, using our height advantage to pick up speed. Gottyk cut through the air. I could see the moisture of the clouds rippling on my armour. My visor locked on to Theo. He was preparing for the hairpin turn.

So was I.

The slipstream was visible thanks to the heavy moisture in the air. White tendrils followed Taicasso, outlining the pocket of clean air he was leaving behind. I nudged Gottyk into the tunnel of clean air. The lack of air resistance was beautiful. We were on their tail in half a second.

As Theo and Taicasso twisted over the edge of the island. So did we. The speed made us overshoot by several feet, but it kept us from colliding with them.

Fast and fair.

The four of us raced downwards towards the cave entrance. Without arcans to attack us and without corners to slow us down this came down to precision. Where I aimed would determine if I ended up ahead of, or behind, Theo as we turned into the arcanite maze in ten seconds time. Theo had always been better than me at this part. It’s how he’d clawed ahead in the Mirendi race.

My training over the summer hadn’t improved me enough for that, but while Theo had been racing for five years I’d been busy raising dragons. Specifically, my dragon. Just like Bach had said back at the ranch: riders performed better when they had a strong bond. I didn’t need to be more precise than Theo, because I knew Gottyk was better than the both of us. I trusted my dragon.

I loosened my grip on the reins, confident.