It was a vicious saddle. She’d never let any of her students use one.
It wasn’t because she was soft—it was because tools can fail. Fear can backfire. The one thing that wouldn’t fail you was a belief in yourself, a solid determination that tied you to the moment.
Gette mounted the lion.
Tamra held her breath. This was it.
Stepping back, the trainer barked an order. Gette wielded a short whip with spikes all along the barrel. He swung it in a circle, building up speed, as he guided the kehok toward the starting line.
The lion turned his head, looking directly at Raia.
“What do I do?” Raia whispered.
Artlar had noticed the kehok’s behavior. He jabbed a finger toward Tamra and Raia, and shouted, “No interference!”
“Understood!” Tamra called back. “This is all you!” To Raia, she advised, “Say nothing. Do nothing. Keep calm.” She hoped she was making the right decision here. She was certain this would work. Mostly certain.
Ninety percent certain.
Eighty-five . . .
And I thought I wasn’t a gambler.
Beside her, Raia was squeezing the edge of the track wall so hard that Tamra thought she’d break it. “They’re hurting him! I can’t do nothing!”
“Then try trusting your kehok.”
Raia gawked at her. “You always say never trust a kehok.”
“I know I say that. And it’s true, if you’re trusting them to be something they’re not. But you should trust your kehok to be what he is.” She thought of how he’d run off the track the first time he and Raia had raced together. “Remember what you said to him when we first met? You said, ‘The only way you’ll win races is if I’m your rider.’”
Raia nodded.
“Trust him to remember too.”
On the track, Artlar shouted, “Go!”
The lion took off fast, as fast as he’d ever run for Raia. Shouting, Gette whipped him, and the lion ran harder, faster, barreling toward the turn without slowing.
In that instant, Tamra doubted everything she’d believed and said. She’d been wrong. He was going to run for them. He wasn’t—
And then the kehok veered sharply left, to the wall where Gette and Artlar had set up the array of weapons. He smashed full speed into the stand, and weapons flew off the wall, clattering to the ground and flying up to hit his rider.
Gette flew backward off the lion, crashing hard onto his back on the racetrack.
“Stop!” Artlar commanded.
But the lion didn’t pay any attention to Artlar’s order or to the downed rider. Instead, he pivoted and ran straight at the trainer. Artlar readied his club, and the kehok leaped toward him and then sailed over his head toward the stable.
The lion ran through the door, disappearing inside.
Groaning, Gette got to his feet. He was bleeding from his forehead.
He finally had his first scar.
Lady Evara was laughing.
“Raia, do you think you could show these gentlemen how it’s done?” Tamra asked calmly. She felt like melting into a puddle of relief, but she didn’t allow that to show.
“Yes, Trainer Verlas.” She sprinted to the stables.
A moment later, the lion padded out of the stable. Raia had removed the saddle, as well as every single one of his chains and shackles, and was riding him bareback toward the track with no restraints and no weapons. Tamra nearly yelped—she’d just meant for Raia to ride him. Removing every chain was taking a large risk.
On the other hand, she was making a very clear statement.
Raia rode the lion in a slow, stately circle around the track, demonstrating her control. The lion’s eyes and her eyes were fixed on Artlar and Gette, who stood frozen in the spot where Gette had fallen.
Very politely and very softly, Raia said to Gette, “Such a shame to see a boy as pretty as you damaged. Someone should have told you you’re not going to win. You’re just not thirsty enough.”
As Raia rode the kehok back into the stable, Tamra thought she’d burst with pride. “Augur Yorbel, could you please inform the emperor-to-be that his prize racer will only run for one rider?”
“I will tell him,” Augur Yorbel said with a sigh.
“Thank you,” Tamra said, and then she smiled at both Artlar and Gette, a wolflike smile that stretched her scar.
This kehok may be a nightmare, but he’s our nightmare.
Chapter 21
“All right, move it out!”
As Trainer Verlas barked at the various servants and guards, Raia scurried to check that everything was secure inside the cage: the kehok’s shackles were clamped to the iron bars, they had a supply of food loaded into the cart, her riding