Page 62 of Of Flame and Fury

An alarm blared in her jacket. She yanked out her tele-comm. A familiar, red notification lit her device.

With numb fingers, she clicked on the notification. Savita’s vitals filled the screen: her pulse, temperature, muscle spasm rate. They were all extremely high.

“Coup,” Kel spoke quickly, hoping he could hear her desperation. “You need to slow down. I’ve never seen Savita’s temperature this out of control. I don’t know if it’s the air pockets or the rebirth symptoms—but she shouldn’t be getting this hot.”

It didn’t matter why Savita’s temperature was soaring. If Coup didn’t calm Savita down, he was going to die.

Oska’s screams rang through her skull.

“Slow. Down,” she ordered.

Coup ignored her.

Savita pulled forward, directly beneath the two leading phoenixes. Kel’s veins were ice and her pulse a gale in her ears. Coup had tostop.

But she knew he wouldn’t. She knew what was racing through his head—because she was the one who had put those thoughts there.

Go on, then. Impress me.

This win is for you.

After their last win, none of them had wanted Coup to hold back. And now that he was letting Savita test her limits, he could feel Savita’s joy beneath him. He could feel her excitement, the need to see how high her flames could soar.

One of the phoenixes ahead was yanked from the sky as a cluster of ruby sprites scattered. Savita rose beside the last remaining firebird. Their wings were parallel as both soared directly for the neon finish line.

“Tell him to stop.” Bekn’s voice broke. “He needs to stop.”

Coup hissed through his teeth, and Kel knew he was in agony. The leathers wouldn’t protect him from this kind of heat.

“Coup!” she screamed. “Forget what I said. None of this matters if you die!”

Coup didn’t respond.

Savita merely blazed faster. She opened her black beak and released a scream of pure fire—of rage and joy and freedom. Winds battered her wings and sent her spiraling toward the finish line.

Barely a hundred meters from the flags, the blood phoenix ahead collided with another cloud of scarlet sprites. Instead of descending, the larger phoenix jerked to the right—tumbling straight into Savita’s side.

Sav managed to swerve, dodging the brunt of the attack. But the blood phoenix’s body twisted too far, the side of its head colliding with Coup.

Writhing flames filled the night sky. They smothered Coup. Smotheredeverything.

As Coup crossed the finish line, Kel heard him scream.

TWENTY-SIX

The audience quieted, ever so slightly. Kel didn’t know if it was shock or anger keeping them at bay. Newcomer teams never won races of this size, and no team—novice or ranked—ever moved that fast.

Bekn and Kel raced down the benches and elbowed through the dense crowd. Savita was still hovering above the concrete finish line, struggling to lower to the ground. Panicked bodies were running back and forth beneath her.

“Get out of the way!” Kel screamed. “Clear the space for her to land. He’sinjured!” Her voice broke on the last word.

Bekn turned to the nearest uniformed CAPR officer. “Get help,” he said, in an eerily calm voice. “Get a council emergency van here,now.”

The officer swallowed, nodded, and ran toward the CAPR booth. Moments later, Dira and Rahn appeared behind Kel. Dira’s eyes were dark, focused; searching for options. Rahn’s mouth moved in a blur as she spoke into her tele-comm. But no one could help Coup until Savita landed.

Kel tilted her head up and waved into the sky. “Coup! Bring her down!”

As she waited—hoped—for a response, she realized that the ringing in her ears wasn’t white noise, or the ghost of Oska’s screams. It was static. Coup’s comm was broken.

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