Fax, please be in good health for the sake of my health!
“The Midsummer Derby begins in five minutes. Contestants, please make your way to the starting point!” megaphone guy announced.
King Solis returned to his sunny self. “I suppose that’s our warning to get to the transportation that will take us to the finish line. Lord Linus, Lord Rigel, would you like a lift?”
“We’d love to, but unless you have a trailer in your pocket, we can’t.” Lord Linus patted Bagel for emphasis.
“Oh, most of the other monarchs arrived in cars because they’re putting every last sun stallion they have in the race.” King Solis smirked. “But I have far more, so my escort and I arrived mounted. My stallion will open a portal to the Day Realm and then another to the finish line.”
“In that case, wonderful! I didn’t know how we were going to get these two to the finish line. I don’t know that Fax would be willing to open up a portal for us and leave his little friends.” Lord Linus nodded his head to the night mares, who flicked their tails.
“Splendid. This way, then. Queen Leila, I wish you all the luck I can spare—stay safe,” he warned.
“I will do my best,” I said.
“Yes, listen to him.” Lord Linus nodded sagely. “And his wise words.”
I rolled my eyes. “Good day, Lord Linus.”
Lord Linus sighed melodramatically. “It’s fine. I know children must one day separate from their parents!”
“You—” I started to hiss, but the nutcase was already gone, sweeping after King Solis with Bagel and leaving me alone with Lord Rigel and Fax.
He stared at me. “You’re planning something.”
“Only sort of,” I said.
He shrugged. “Don’t bring ruin to our Court.” With that “beautiful” and “touching” advice, he left.
I shook my head. He was my choice. My choice—I have to remember that. I turned the night mares in the direction of the starting line. Besides, it could have been worse. I could have gotten myself hitched to Lord Dion without knowing his personality is crooked!
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rigel
The finish line was the same as I remembered it from the times I’d been unable to avoid coming to the derby as a child, and my teenage years when Dion had dragged me along because he thought it was exciting.
The derby ended in a park, with a long stretch of green to give the horses room to slow down after crossing the line, which was hemmed in by the temporary seating arrangements that would be torn down once this all was over.
Giant TV screens had been erected around us, allowing us a view of the race. All of the contestants were followed overhead by drones. Or they tried to—some contestants purposely lost them in forested areas in parks so they could then cheat or perform illegal maneuvers.
The only thing that had changed was that I now stood close to the finish line in a reserved seating area for the monarchs and their families with Lord Linus—and the donkey and sun stallion Leila had charged us with.
King Solis had inexplicably elected to stand with us, his face tight with concern as he watched the black blob at the starting line that marked out the queen and her six feral night mares. They were easy to spot in the sea of white, gold, and crimson sun stallions.
“I hope she manages to get through this,” King Solis said.
“She’s a fighter,” Lord Linus said. “As long as no one ticks her off and hurts an animal in front of her, she’ll be fine.”
King Solis clasped his hands together and draped his arms over the chest-high wooden fence erected for safety.
It is strange he has such concern for the Night Court monarch.
King Solis’s gaze skated past me and lingered on Fax and Bagel. “I assume Queen Leila was not planning to ride either of these fine mounts?”
I let Lord Linus answer—I had no desire to speak to the Day King.
“No.” Lord Linus rubbed Bagel’s head—the donkey leaned into it with glee. “She said we had to bring them as ‘emotional support’ for the night mares.”
King Solis wrinkled his forehead in confusion. “Emotional support?”
“That’s what she said.”
“Must be a human thing.”
“Yeah.”
I watched on the screen as one of the derby officials raised a massive white flag, then swung it down.
“It’s started,” I said.
The horses were off like a shot, tearing down the streets in a dangerous crush, except Leila and the night mares.
They stayed far behind, grouped in a tiny pack, obediently standing at the starting line for