Page 52 of Of Flame and Fury

Coup stirred Savita faster still.

The phoenix didn’t need to be told twice. Savita cried out and blasted past two more firebirds.

Others swooped and swiped, but Savita stayed close to the water. No other phoenixes were willing to fly so close to the murky depths. From the way Coup’s gaze kept flickering to the phoenixes above him, Kel could tell he was itching to enter the fray, rather than stay low. Instead, he listened to Dira with reluctant grumbles, anticipating her words almost before they echoed down the comms.

Though Savita was fast, nimble, even she couldn’t avoid every water jet. Dira kept Sav from any direct hits, but occasional jets clipped her wings or slowed her pace. Yet there was never any fearin Savita’s movements. With every drop of water that dared touch her, she seemed to grow more stubborn.

The small sparks licking at Savita’s sides climbed higher. She flew faster and faster until she disappeared behind growing flames and fearless screams.

“Only two more phoenixes ahead of you,” Dira murmured to Coup. “They’ve been competing against each other for years, so hopefully there’s enough rivalry there to keep them distracted.”

The two competing phoenixes were side by side, swooping at each other as they raced toward the finish line, too distracted to notice Coup approaching from below. The smaller creature screamed as the larger phoenix managed to drag a claw against its side. Even from a distance, Kel spotted a thin trail of blood streaming down—directly onto Coup and Sav.

Kel’s nails dug into her palms. Too many emotions flurried inside her, unfamiliar and beyond her control.

The larger phoenix finally noticed Coup and Savita soaring beneath them. It swung out with sword-sharp talons; a wild, imprecise attack.

“Fall back a little,” Dira instructed. “Third place will still make Cristo happy. It’s not worth risking overhead attacks you can’t defend yourself against.”

Coup grunted. Kel didn’t know if it was a sound of agreement or disagreement. A moment later, Savita fell back, just a few meters, and the spring in Kel’s chest eased.

Sirens wailed, signaling the last lap. Coup traced new instructions into Sav’s neck feathers, drawing shapes to communicate flight patterns. Savita dashed to the left. The larger, maroon phoenix lashed out with wild talons again, catching the empty air just above Coup’s head.

Coup swerved back to the right, where the smaller phoenix lashed out in turn. Savita was far enough away from the talons, but one mistimed swerve and they would slice through Coup’s skull.

From Dira’s right, Bekn fidgeted, shifting his weight. “Remind my brother that he promised zero recklessness.”

Dira echoed Bekn’s words down her comm. Coup answered with a breathy laugh, swerving left again. “It’s only reckless if we don’t win.”

Too late, Kel realized what he was doing. Both phoenixes lashed out at him with feeble swipes. Their distracted attacks allowed Coup to sneak farther ahead, which, in turn, meant that the attacks grew more erratic, causing them to slice at each other rather than Coup below.

Back and forth, Coup wove beneath the two. Between jets of water, around swiping talons, distracting the other phoenixes just enough for them to mistime the next water fountain ahead. Savita’s flames grew with every swerve, high enough to blur Coup’s shape.

Just a few meters from the finish line, the two phoenixes crashed together as they swooped at Coup. Their gleaming talons knotted as a water jet erupted beneath them. As Coup swerved around the bubbling jet, the phoenixes crashed into the water, sending a rush of water into the crowd.

Kel’s heart thumped as Savita and Coup soared across the finish line, seizing first place. Giddy screams and disbelieving laughter echoed down their comms, overlapping and cresting like waves. Bekn stood apart from the celebrations, arms folded. Kel ignored his concern. She ignored the beeping in her pocket, notifying her of Sav’s heat. She ignored everything but the euphoria coursing through her, like a fire through a dry forest, a bird from a cage, a phoenix through the sky.

TWENTY-TWO

The Howlers were still drowning in their own triumph when they returned to Cristo Industries. Even the swarming reporters asking about Kel and Coup’sblooming romancehadn’t soured Kel’s mood.

They swaggered through the pearly facility, congratulated by familiar and unfamiliar faces. When they reached their unit, they were shocked to see a stack of wrapped gifts strewn across their kitchen table. Bekn hurriedly opened the card atop the stack, and the others crowded around him to read neat, looping handwriting:

Congratulations, Howlers! I’m so glad this first foray was such an easy win for the team. I can’t wait to see what you can achieve in Vohre’s more inventive races. I’m eager to keep this momentum rolling into your next race in a few days.

Regards, Canen

Dira snorted. “That race was anything but easy.”

Kel made a sound of agreement. By Fieror’s dry, looping standards, the race they’d just won had been wilder than anything they could have imagined. Her giddiness began to fade, swallowed by Cristo’s latest mandate.

“Savita’s never had to recover so quickly between races,” Kel said, her mouth dry.

Bekn sighed. “We still have to prove ourselves. We’re not in a position yet to refute Cristo.”

“Especially after winning a race that he considerseasy,” Dira snorted.

Kel grimaced, though the note didn’t sour any of their moods for long. They quickly scavenged some small vials of blood gin and Asciran fizzy drinks from the kitchen and began clawing through the wrapping, each finding their allocated name tag. Kel unwrapped her gift to discover a smooth wooden box. Lifting the lid, the black kit held a variety of sharp tools for tracing, cutting and stamping leather. The tools were laid out in neat rows, far more lavish than the set from her father.

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