“You lost control of your racer on a shielded track,” she pointed out. “You do realize that to win a race, you need to succeed at what caused you to fail.”
“Now that I’m free of you, I will!” He then pivoted and stalked off. “Just watch me win! I’m in the third race with your new fool, and I’ll be placing first!”
Tamra rolled her eyes. She wanted to point out that he hadn’t ever been tied to her. In fact, his parents had paid her to teach him, as they were probably paying his new trainer. She hoped the little idiot didn’t die in the race. While that would teach him a valuable lesson, he most likely wouldn’t remember it in his next life.
Returning to her campsite, she said to Raia and the black lion, “I’d like you two to do me a favor in the race. See them?” She pointed to Fetran and his mount, a large green-scaled lizard with thick horns on its head. “They’ll be running in your heat. Whatever else happens, please make sure you run faster than them.”
Raia prepared her bed next to the black lion’s cage—outside it, of course, because she wasn’t an idiot—but she didn’t want to sleep inside the tent. She wanted the lion to be able to see her and know she hadn’t left him alone.
Watching her, Trainer Verlas shook her head. “After this race is over, we’re going to have a long talk about not projecting your own thoughts and emotions onto a simplistic killing machine.”
“He’s not simplistic,” Raia said, checking for rocks under her bedding. “He understands me.”
“Just don’t forget he’ll kill you if he can.”
“He and I had a long discussion about that. It was a one-sided conversation, but I think he agreed with me. He knows if he kills me, you’ll kill him.” She thought he’d understood much more than that, but she knew she wasn’t going to convince Trainer Verlas. She’d have more luck convincing her the sky was purple. Even despite all the progress they’d made out on the sands, Trainer Verlas still seemed to believe the kehok couldn’t understand more than the basic idea of racing equals freedom.
“Very true—if he kills you, he dies.” Shooting one more glare at the black lion, Trainer Verlas let herself into the tent. “He’s useless to me if he won’t take a rider, and you’re the only one I’ve got.” The tent flap flopped shut behind her.
Climbing into her bedroll, Raia looked up at the stars. Only a few were visible. Most of the sky was a matte gray, lightened by the torches that lit the racetrack and the nearby city. “We’re racing tomorrow,” she said out loud.
She let the words roll around in her mind, trying to get used to them. She knew there were other riders here who had dreamed of this moment for years. They’d imagined themselves as riders when they were little kids, playing at it with horses and goats and whatever else would let them ride. But she never had—she’d never had any choice in her future. Her parents had always told her what to do, who to be, and who she would become. The first act that she’d taken on her own, in the augur temple, had been to fail.
I’m not going to fail this time.
She held that thought close to her as she slept, and she dreamed about running fast. She woke to sounds all around her—the laughter, cheers, and shouts of other riders and their trainers, the screams of kehoks being brought out of their cages and prepared for the race. Sitting up, she saw Trainer Verlas was already awake and alert.
Seeing her, Trainer Verlas tossed her a canteen. “Rinse out your mouth, use the latrine, do what you need to do, but try not to think too much.”
It was good advice.
Hard to follow, but good.
Raia cleaned herself, dressed, and tried not to stare at the other riders who all looked so much more confident and experienced than she felt. Of course they’re more confident. I bet all of them have run around a track at least once without jumping out of it. All around her, the other riders were chattering excitedly, as if this was a festival, while they prepared their mounts. But Raia was in anything but a festive mood.
“Hey, Raia, smile!” Jalimo called.
Making a fist, Silar bopped him lightly on the head. “She’s