Page 58 of Of Flame and Fury

TWENTY-FOUR

Kel wriggled in her seat, squashed inside the oversized auto-engine carrying Sav. Dira and Rahn had taken another four-wheeled unit loaded with their racing gear. Even just a few meters ahead, Kel could barely make out their vehicle on the straight road. Dusk had already given way to heavy shadows, and stars glistened overhead in clear, silvery clusters.

To her left, Coup yawned. “I can’t believe you’d rather ride with me and Bekn than your bestie.”

Kel tried to wiggle closer to the window. Coup had no qualms about stretching his arms along the back of the seats.

“You’re still a pain in my ass,” Kel said. “But I’d rather put up with you for half an hour than third-wheel Dira and Rahn’s flirting.”

That, and Dira had been avoiding Kel since their fight four days ago. Kel had apologized a dozen times to her friend, yet Dira still looked at Kel with shuttered eyes.

Coup grinned. “Sure, tamer. Tell yourself whatever you need to.”

Kel’s cheeks heated. The insult she should have thrown backdied in her throat. There was too little space in the auto-engine’s cabin. She should’ve just put up with Dira’s anger.

Bekn drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “If you’re going to flirt, save it for the CAPR cameras.”

“We arenot,” Kel growled.

Since the last race, Vohre’s media had only magnified its coverage of the Howlers. Rerun commentary speculated on Coup and Kel’s relationship. Magazines printed close-ups of their faces above romance headlines. It had become impossible to avoid the rumors.

Desperate for a change of subject, Kel muttered, “I still think this race is a terrible idea given Sav’s rebirth.”

“Whatever his reasons for hiding information—Cristo wouldn’t let us compete if he thought Savita would implode mid-race,” Bekn countered.

Coup softly elbowed Kel. “If you’re still that worried, you and I can march into Cristo’s office and demand answers. He can’t say no to CAPR’s latest power couple.”

Kel glared at him. Though the offer beneath the mockery was sincere, it made her lips twitch. Over the past few days, Coup had tolerated Kel’s rehashed concerns more than the others. Perhaps it was because his employment was twined more closely with Savita. Still, no matter why, his willingness to listen had kept her paranoia from consuming her.

She ignored Coup’s teasing for the rest of the journey, focusing instead on the possibilities of what lay ahead.

Kel had no clue what awaited them. It was illegal for CAPR teams to have any knowledge of a race prior to arrival. Media outlets were only permitted to release footage once every team had checked in. She shivered, trying to imagine what might lay ahead; what could be worse than using a phoenix’s inherent fear of water against them?

As they unloaded the vehicles and approached the wide track, Kel’s questions remained unanswered.

“Come on,” Kel said, guiding Sav from the transport unit. “Let’s find our booth.”

Their booth ended up being raised along a private stretch of stands, which they’d climb to watch the race from. Rahn and Bekn carried their gear as Dira and Kel helped Coup into Savita’s saddle, along a dirt patch not far from the starting line. Though flanked by a larger crowd than she’d ever seen, there were no obvious threats along the looping track. No mechanical clouds for weapons to drop from, no netting to tangle wings, no murky waters to spread fear. Just a clear, glittering darkness for Savita to soar through.

Tall screens towered above the stands packed with roaring fans, ready to broadcast the race. Despite the clear track, the crowd screamed their anticipation. Silver tablets glimmered through the dense crowds, fingers darting across the devices as they placed wagers.

A chill ghosted down Kel’s spine. What was informing their bets? The open track didn’t seem to favor agility, strength, or size.

She’d much rather know what unholy dangers awaited them. The clear evening was nothing more than a prelude, but to what?

The winger and tamer moved together with their usual ease, perfected over the years. If Dira still harbored anger toward her, Kel knew she wouldn’t let it affect their performance on the track.

Minutes later, when Coup was in place and Bekn and Rahn had returned, there were still no answers. Kel could see other teams similarly huddled, squinting at the track’s clear sky.

When Rahn frowned down at her tele-comm, Kel almost lunged to her side. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s just Canen. He’s in the crowd today and wanted to wish us luck.” Rahn scanned Kel’s face. “Are you okay? You look a little…”

“Sleep-deprived? Wrecked? Unhinged?” Dira supplied.

“Thanks for the multiple choice,” Kel muttered. At least Dira had forgiven her enough to tease her.

Kel glanced back at the track. “I can’t remember the last time Fieror had a simple track like this. Does Vohre ever just want teams to… race?”

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