be about winning or losing. It’s always just about the moment. What you want in that moment can silence the failures of the past and the pressures of the future.” She paused before adding, “And yes, love is of course important, but love isn’t only giddy new romance. My life is full of love. Now, focus on that crocodile.”
“You’ll see, Trainer Verlas—this is a fresh start. The augur choosing us . . . We have a second chance!” Raia sounded so certain.
Tamra pointed firmly at the statue, and Raia finally studied the crocodile.
As she did, Tamra kept thinking about this unlikely hope. I’ve had so many chances. A lifetime of them. She’d been given a way out of her childhood with kehok races. After she’d been injured too badly to continue racing, she’d been given a way out of despair and a new future with the birth of her daughter. And now this new chance to secure a future for herself and her daughter . . . and possibly a second daughter.
I don’t know that I deserve yet another chance.
She’d failed her rider last year. She’d failed her students last month. And in doing so, she’d failed both herself and Shalla. But Raia does deserve this. Tamra watched as her rider began to breathe slower and more evenly as she narrowed her focus on a single, stationary object. As they sailed past the crocodile statue, Tamra directed her toward the next target: a colossal tiger, sheathed in gold.
She continued to lead Raia through the exercise until they reached the royal docks, which were a sight in and of themselves: every post carved into the shape of a man or woman, dancers and soldiers and farmers and fishermen. “Good job,” she said.
Raia beamed.
Stepping off the boat first, Augur Yorbel took the lead, presenting documentation and talking in a low voice to the dockmaster, who bowed and then welcomed them to the Heart of Becar.
Lady Evara and her entourage disembarked next, as soon as a plank was laid between the boat and the dock. They boarded waiting chariots. Following, Tamra, with Raia, helped load the kehok in his cage onto a cart. An expensive-looking red sheet was draped over the cage. So the citizens won’t have to see such a hideous creature in their beautiful city, Tamra thought. Or so they won’t see a reminder of what could happen to them if they aren’t careful with their souls. Either way, she didn’t object.
She climbed into the seat of the cart, next to Raia, who’d already hopped up beside the driver—a silent woman in a royal city guard uniform. Raia was bouncing in her seat like an overexcited puppy. As they drove toward the palace, Tamra tried to absorb some of Raia’s enthusiasm. Maybe I don’t deserve this second chance, but I am going to make the most of it.
Raia twisted around, trying to see everything, so many times that Tamra thought she was going to topple out of the cart. Certainly, there were glorious sights in every direction: a tower sheathed in gold, a statue of a heron sculpted out of glass, a mosaic detailing an ancient emperor’s victory repelling an invasion . . . but Tamra noticed the people. Namely, that there were too many of them, mostly workers who should have been off at construction sites or quarries. She expected the farmers—historically, the Becaran Races began as a way to distract farmers who couldn’t work while their fields were saturated during flood season—but this many workers loitering in the streets was unusual.
All these men and women out of work, purposeless and some of them penniless, had to be causing more trouble than usual. She thought she spotted some soldiers from the Becaran army patrolling with the guards. It was a good thing they’d have the races to distract them.
That was, according to legend, the reason the Becaran Races began. After the great warrior Aur split the desert and created his mighty river, the people flocked to its banks. Discovering the land was fertile, they rejoiced. But the great crocodile Ferlar, who inhabits all the rivers of the world—a description Tamra had questioned the first time she’d heard the tale and been told he was “so large he needed all the rivers”—heard their celebration and hated it. In response, he flicked his massive tail, causing the fields to flood. Despondent, the early Becarans began to squabble and then war among themselves. To cheer up his people, the warrior Aur plucked a