a lie. But it was a good one. Raia was getting better at telling them.
At last, a few hours past dawn, the last of the undercard heats were completed, and the horn was blown for the top twenty to get into position for the final championship race. Tamra felt as if her body was humming with excitement.
Her ears were buzzing with the cheers and screams as Raia rode the lion to the starting gate, where Tamra was allowed to give her rider one last piece of advice. She thought of what she’d told last year’s rider, before things went so disastrously wrong: to own the track, to swallow every moment and make it his, to use his hunger for victory to propel him faster. That was why the race commission had fined her, because of that advice. With difficulty, Tamra pushed that memory out of her mind. Raia was different. She ran for her own reasons. She wouldn’t suffer the same fate.
Tamra chose different advice for her: “Run with joy.”
Raia smiled—all the hours, days, even years of worry and fear disappearing as her whole face brightened. “Yes. I can do that.”
At the race official’s signal, Tamra retreated from the track with the other trainers. Other officials herded up into the stands, on the opposite side of the psychic shield. She craned her neck to see over the throngs of people—There! Shalla! She waved at Augur Yorbel. He was standing with a woman augur, with Shalla between them. Shalla was wearing her training robes, one of her braids had slipped out of its ribbon, and she was dancing from foot to foot.
Pushing through the crowd, Tamra reached them. She scooped Shalla up against her, helping her stand on a bench for a better view. “Isn’t this exciting?”
Shalla laughed. “I’m so excited I think I’ll burst!”
“Thank you for bringing her,” Tamra said to Yorbel. She then greeted the other augur, an elegant woman with silver braids and a welcoming smile. “I’m Trainer Tamra Verlas.”
“Tamra, this is one of my oldest and dearest friends, High Augur Gissa,” Yorbel said.
A high augur! Tamra tried to think of what to say, and words failed her. She hadn’t been close to such a luminary in years, not since she’d been a champion racer, and she’d never met one in the stands.
“Pleasure to meet you,” High Augur Gissa said. She clasped Tamra’s hand warmly, and Tamra was surprised to feel callouses on her palms. Yorbel’s hands were as soft as cotton. She wondered what work High Augur Gissa did in the temple, aside from continuously being good and holy. She couldn’t imagine a high augur doing common chores.
“Yorbel has spoken highly of you,” High Augur Gissa continued. “And I am told your daughter is a gift to our temple. We are pleased to have her as a student.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Tamra told herself not to be awed by the fact that they were standing with a high augur. After all, Tamra had talked with an emperor-to-be, and Yorbel himself was an augur. She shouldn’t be so starstruck. But a high augur, the holiest of holies! “Honored to meet you.”
Then there was no more time to be impressed with the lofty company she and Shalla were keeping.
The race announcer shouted, “Ready!”
Her heart felt as if it was pounding so fast that it would drown out the cheers.
“Prepare!”
She joined the cheering, yelling so loud that her voice scraped her throat. Shalla cheered with her, and Tamra braced her so she could stand on the bench and see better.
“RACE!”
The starting gates exploded open, and the kehoks shot out like blurs.
The twenty riders and racers were the best in Becar. Most had been racing for years. Only a few were newer. And none were as new as Raia and her lion—to be in the first heat in your first season was extraordinary, and she knew others were waiting for her to falter.
But Tamra had no fear.
She felt as if she were running along with Raia and the lion. Her heart, mind, and soul were with them as they charged toward the first turn, picking up speed. The lion dug his paws into the turn, attacking it, and gained speed for the straightaway.
“Mama! She’s catching up to the lead!” Shalla cried.
“Run,” Tamra whispered. “Just run.”
Raia felt the wind on her face and tasted the sweat that dripped off her lip. The roar of the crowd was distant thunder, a storm that didn’t touch her. She felt as if nothing could touch