Tamra pressed her lips into a line and told herself that Zora was only looking out for the welfare of them all. If Raia had family who would press charges, they could all be brought before the race council for endangerment of a student. “She’s an orphan, she says.” Just because she later admitted it was a lie didn’t mean Tamra couldn’t say it.
“Good,” Zora said.
The other three students had finished the race and were jogging toward the three trainers. In the lead was the girl with the shaved head—Tamra had never bothered to learn her name. “We’re going after her, aren’t we? Why isn’t anyone going after her?”
“Raia knows how to race the sands,” Tamra said. “She’s safest if we keep our distance. Pursue her, and she’ll have a harder time coming back.” The lion would run faster or, worse, turn on her if he sensed them chasing after him. Her odds were better if she were on her own.
I should have realized she wasn’t ready, Tamra thought.
Deep inside, Raia was still running away.
Damn her family to the depths of the River.
Tamra stayed in the stands, waiting, while the others continued to whisper around her. She ignored all further attempts to argue with her, and instead kept her eyes trained on the sands. Raia and the black lion were no longer visible.
The sun crept across the sky.
She didn’t move, even though sweat stuck her tunic to her back, even though the wind blew sand in her eyes. She kept her eyes and her will focused on the desert, as if she could summon them back—she knew at this range it was impossible, but she maintained her vigil.
By sundown, Raia hadn’t returned.
Tamra did not allow herself to doubt or worry. Raia would come back. She was stronger than her fear. I could not have judged her so badly. I will not lose faith. I believe in her.
That was what she said each time another student or trainer came to question Tamra:
“I believe in her.”
By nightfall, the others were gone, and it was only Tamra, watching the darkening desert. Shalla will be home. She’d be fixing herself supper and wondering where her mother and Raia were. She’d set two extra plates at the table. I can’t go home without Raia. What would she say to her daughter? That she waited for a while and then gave up? What kind of message would that send? Giving up on Raia meant giving up on everything: winning the races, paying the augurs, protecting Shalla’s future, and being a good mother.
I should have gone after her.
It was far too late now. The time to do that was in the first few minutes. By now, the wind would have obscured all tracks. If she wasn’t back by dawn, Tamra would have to search for her. For her body.
If she didn’t return . . .
She will, Tamra thought. She stared at the desert, a black sea beneath the stars, and commanded it: Bring her back.
She thought she saw a flicker of movement.
Stepping onto the bleachers, Tamra peered out toward the darkness, as if squinting would somehow make it brighter. She must have imagined it. Now she saw nothing except the shift of shadows that was wind blowing across the sands.
Except were the shadows thicker in one spot?
She stared at it, willing it to resolve into shapes. Come back.
And then she saw them: Raia on the black lion, stumbling across the sands, back toward the training ground. They were a hundred yards out when they both fell and didn’t move.
Tamra ran to the shed, yanked out the transport cart, and then ran to the stable and hooked up the rhino-croc. She drove it out onto the sands. Her eyes scanned the darkness, looking for where she’d seen them fall.
She spotted them: motionless mounds between the waves of sand. “Faster!” she commanded the rhino-croc. He thundered over the dunes, the only sound beyond the wind.
Reaching them, Tamra jumped off the bench. She ran to Raia.
Raia pried her eyes open. “I’m sorry. He wanted to run. And I guess . . . so did I.”
“I know.” Tamra helped Raia stand and hobbled with her over to the cart. She pressed a canteen of water into her hands, and Raia drank greedily. Carrying a second canteen, Tamra then limped back to the black lion. She opened it and poured the water onto his tongue.