Page 31 of Tailwind

Regardless of the details, it worked.

‘Ten seconds to launch.’

I only grunted in response. I had watched hours of Thorne’s race casts in my dorm room since the last race and it wouldn’t be for nothing. Josie had figured out the pitch of his voice for the augment so I just had to pay attention to the way he spoke to the team. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t pleasant and he wasn’t verbose.

Gottyk shifted slightly underneath me. I leaned forward in anticipation, hanging on to the saddle pommel with the reins wrapped around my hands.

The flare sizzled up into the sky, red and bold against the grey clouds that cast a gloom over the city. It popped.

Gottyk took off running.

I moved with him, staying as loose as I could to not hinder his pace. The floor vanished from under us. His wings pulsed either side of my legs, pushing the air down and raising us up slowly but surely.

Flashes of colour appeared above us, diving into my view from their superior launch points. Green, blue, white and orange. Before I’d even gained any height at least one Victrolia and Prevere had managed to take turn one.

More importantly, Omar Wilver on his Ballenir purple, was airborne and in the space I needed.

We tailed him into turn one, climbing in height as we banked around the shallow right-hander. We’d managed to get some height on Omar, but he had experience. He was taking up more space than needed, spreading out on the most efficient path around the circuit. He knew I was behind him and had no intention of letting me pass.

The longer the race went on the harder it would be to pass him, so I pushed harder. Gottyk’s wing tip flew by the open windows of the residential building at the exit of the chicane, but before we could get anywhere near the open-mouthed spectators the invisible barrier crackled to life. White lines burst from the contact point like living, shattered glass, following the contact.

I angled Gottyk away and the barrier cleared. My cheeks flushed. Forgetting the barrier was something a rookie would do. The barrier couldn’t be opaque, otherwise the wealthy onlookers who lived in the circuitside apartments wouldn’t be able to watch the race. It did mean I had to pay more attention though. A wing tip grazing the barrier was one thing, but clipping a wing or flying right into it would be a thousand times worse.

We cleared the two long straights that bordered the expensive boats lined up in the harbour just as the sun broke through the clouds, enough to make the ocean sparkle. It wasn’t enough to distract me though. I chanced a view to my right and saw a flash of orange through the gaps in the buildings. Bach was on the other side of the circuit, having nearly cleared his first lap.

Thirty seconds later, I made it back around. We wove between the vast stone buildings, still on Omar’s tail.

The split routes were coming up just as more comms came through.

‘The remaining arsenals are on the short and long routes, one left on short and three on long. Recommendation: short to make up time on Wilver.’

It seemed like a waste of time to go out of my way to tap my helmet only to grunt in reply, but remaining in character was an important priority if I was going to make stupid mistakes like forgetting about circuit barriers.

Omar glanced over his shoulder at me, I was close enough to be setting off his proximity sensors. Why he did that instead of relying on his team to tell him who was behind, I wasn’t sure. If I had been flying as myself, I’d have offered a wave – nice and casual to throw him off. I wasn’t myself though, I was Thorne.

So I tapped my heel on Gottyk and had him speed up as much as he could, his head and neck flying parallel with the tail of Omar’s dragon.

They banked a hard left and took the long branch of the circuit. Maybe there was a benefit to riding under Thorne’s name – other than the Bolls, the other riders didn’t want to be near me.

We flew ahead into the short route. A pedestrian bridge was ahead, a covered walkway made of glass – any other day of the year it was just an especially fancy way of cutting across town. Today it was one of the most expensive ways to watch the race.

‘Arsenal is under the bridge, attached to the underside.’

A benefit of flying in last is that the other teams had found the hidden caches already. I only had to pull off making contact with it.

I directed Gottyk downwards, enough that the bridge wouldn’t cleave my head off. If the location hadn’t been revealed to me over the comms, the fans would have made it clear regardless. They stood either side of a spot on the bridge, watching me approach and ready to see me soar underneath.

My hand raised, I braced against the saddle so I could go higher if I needed to.

We whipped underneath and my hand slammed against the one remaining hilt. Then it slipped.

My back arched, my fingers brushing against the metal for one long moment.

With only a thumb and two fingers on the hilt I clamped down as hard as possible. I didn’t need to pull, I was well on my way out from under the bridge as Gottyk kept us moving forward at high speed. It thankfully, miraculously, pulled free.

‘Arcans ahead.’

‘Oh for fuck’s sake!’ That wasn’t meant for the team. That was just for me.