before she’d retired to raise her daughter and train future champions. Emphasizing that scar made people uncomfortable. She loved her scar. It was her favorite feature, a relic of a time when she was the one destined for greatness, with a wide future ahead of her.
In a falsely chipper voice, Tamra said, “Maybe it was a combination. But you seem to have everything sorted out, so how about you show us how it’s done?”
Fetran looked as if he wanted to bolt. Or vomit. “I c-can’t . . .”
She let him squirm a minute more, intending to let him off the hook, but then Amira stepped forward, cleared her throat, and said in a squeak, “I’ll try.”
Oh, kehoks. That was not what she’d meant to happen.
Tamra opened her mouth to say, No, you’re not ready. But then she stopped. Studying Amira, she thought, There’s some strength in her. A spark, maybe. If it could be fed . . .
Briefly, she allowed herself to imagine the glory, if she transformed one of these rich kids into a fierce competitor. She’d be the most sought-after trainer in all Becar, and her daughter would never again have to feel worry that they’d be separated.
No. It’s a crazy idea. I can’t turn one of them into a winner. It was widely known that the children of the wealthy dallied in racing but never won. None of them had the fire. You had to burn with the need to win, with the conviction that this is what you were meant to do. That was an aspect of racing that couldn’t be taught, and these spoiled rich kids had never felt it. They’d never known the feeling of yearning for a future that vanished like a mirage before your eyes. Or the feeling of having all your dreams slip like sand through your fingers. They’d never tried to change their fate and discovered it was immutable.
They’d never been thirsty.
On the other hand . . . the girl had volunteered to try.
Maybe the answer to all Tamra’s problems had been right here in front of her the whole time, and she’d been too stubborn to see it. The augurs preached that you could improve the quality of your soul by your choices, and thus grant meaning to your current life and hope for your next. Tamra might not be able to read the state of these kids’ immortal souls . . .
But maybe I could give them a chance to shine.
“Follow me,” Tamra said curtly.
“Hey, she asked me,” Fetran butted in. “I’m first.”
“You’re going to break your neck,” Amira told him.
“And you won’t?”
“My kehok likes me.”
Tamra heaved a sigh. Seriously, why did she bother talking? It wasn’t as if they listened to her. Kehoks liked no one, because they loathed themselves. I’m a terrible teacher. I should switch to raising potted plants. “You’ll race each other. And you’ll use chains and harnesses.” When Fetran began to object, she held up her hand. “I don’t want to explain to your parents why their darlings are minus a few limbs.”
Or have them explain to me why I’m not getting paid anymore.
Without looking back to see if they were following, Tamra stalked across the training grounds to the kehok stable, a prisonlike block, made of mud-brick and stone, that dominated half the practice area. Out of the corner of her eye she saw other trainers’ students running obstacle courses, lifting weighted barrels, and wrestling each other on the sand. She didn’t make eye contact with any of them. She knew what the other trainers would think of this—her students weren’t ready for the track. But they would never be ready if they didn’t take risks.
And if there was a chance she could shape them into what she needed them to be . . .
Closer to the stable, she heard the kehoks.
The worst part about a kehok scream was that it sounded almost human, as if a man or woman’s vocal cords had been shredded and then patched up sloppily by an untrained doctor. It made your blood curdle and your bones shiver.
Tamra was used to it.
Her students still weren’t.
Amira and Fetran huddled with the others in a clump as she flung open the doors. This is a terrible idea, she thought. Sunlight flooded the stalls, and the kehoks screamed louder. They kicked and bashed against their walls. There were eighteen kehoks in the stable, five of which were owned by Tamra’s patron.