parents but not old enough to be taken seriously as a buyer. Ordinary height, with a pretty but unmemorable face, nice enough skin, her black hair styled in multiple braids that were only just beginning to unravel. She’d picked clothes that were clean and simple—clothes that said both “I’m not worth kidnapping” and “Of course I didn’t run away from my family and my future.” But she hid out of habit anyway.
It was something she’d gotten far too good at lately.
Like stealing fruit.
A grapefruit weighed down one of her pockets, tugging at her tunic as well as her conscience. Raia knew what her former teachers would say about theft, but, she reminded herself yet again, they weren’t here, and her stomach was. She’d have time to balance out the harm she’d done to her soul after she did what she came here to do, which was to find a new future for herself.
And also find someplace not completely terrifying to sleep tonight, she thought.
Last night she’d bedded down in a toolshed behind an overcrowded house outside Gea Market. She’d woken every few minutes, convinced every creak and crack in the night was someone coming out to the shed in search of a trowel for a bit of late-night, can’t-wait-until-morning gardening. She hadn’t been caught. But she certainly hadn’t slept well.
At dawn, when the market opened, she’d screwed up her courage and started approaching trainers. All morning, she’d tried. All morning, she’d failed. One look at her—her unmuscled arms and her uncalloused palms—and they’d turned away. She couldn’t blame them. With all the uncertainty in Becar these days, no one wanted to take any kind of risk. The continued lack of an emperor was putting everyone on edge. But this trainer felt different.
Tamra Verlas.
Raia knew who she was, of course. Everyone did. She recognized the tattoo and the scar, even the way she walked.
The cursed trainer.
Last flood season, Trainer Verlas had made a mistake in one of the final races—given bad advice or . . . the rumors hadn’t been clear on what exactly she’d done. Only that it was her fault that her rider and his kehok had died, as well as several other riders and even a few bystanders. It had been such a dramatic disaster that it was said she’d never sponsor a winner again. She’d been reduced to training the children of the wealthy, for their amusement, in one of the many low-end training facilities.
Yet here she was, at the market, clearly buying a racer.
Talk to her, Raia encouraged herself.
If Trainer Verlas needed a new racer, maybe she needed a new rider.
And if that’s the case, maybe she’ll be desperate enough to pick me.
Studying the trainer, though, Raia didn’t think that was likely to happen. She didn’t look like the kind to make decisions out of desperation.
Well, then maybe I’m desperate enough to make her pick me.
Cursed or not, this woman had trained a rider who’d nearly won the Becaran Races. Her racing style was said to have been unique, and her training style supposedly matched that. Unique enough to train a newbie? All Raia needed to do was win a few races. Not the whole thing. The prize money from just a few wins, even a string of minor races, should be enough . . .
But how to impress Tamra Verlas, when she’d never impressed anyone in her life? Especially not someone as impressive as the trainer.
Raia watched as Trainer Verlas approached the killer kehok with no fear. Her face, which Raia could see in profile, was placid. Her arms hung by her sides, muscles loose. She didn’t look prepared to defend herself or jump out of the way. If the kehok attacked . . . Even from within his cage, he could do some damage.
Raia couldn’t hope to ever look that fearless. She felt full of fear every second of every day, so much fear that sometimes she thought she’d choke on it. She felt fear right now, for Trainer Verlas.
The kehok bared his lion teeth, each tooth the size of Raia’s hand, and she felt prickles walk all over her skin. Why am I even considering this? This is crazy! She didn’t know anything about racing, and she’d never even met anyone who’d ridden one of the monsters. There had to be another way to come up with enough gold to appease her family.
Except there wasn’t. Not quickly. And not with her lack of any kind of useful skills.