Sonia didn't like to run ahead at the beginning of a race. But what was the point of running at all if she lost track of Faal? She spurred herself forward, edging past athletic male runners who knew the course. Soon she’d woven past the early breaking competitors, and had settled in behind Faal, drafting through a stiff abyssal wind at his heals.

Faal couldn't hold this pace, especially in these crosswinds, surely. Any Arrowan leyline drinker could match this speed in an energy vortex this strong, but she was pretty sure Faal had no drinker techniques. He was Barronite.

“Faal. This wind is bad, and it’s early! Settle in! Let another runner take the lead,” she called into the fierce wind.

“What?” Faal glanced behind him and flinched, apparently surprised to see her keeping pace—and breathing easily. “Sonia. I told you to stay with the pack.”

“I said, settle in Faal. Draft behind me!” Sonia began to move ahead, but Faal only sped up.

“You’re just pushing me, Sonia. I’m not letting up.”

If that was the way Faal was going to be, then what choice did she have? She settled in behind rather than risk pushing him. She eased her pace, let another runner in and drafted while she though about strategy. It was a long run, something like sixteen miles around the perimeter. Sixteen miles wasn’t a daunting distance, but it was long enough, especially without tapping much leyline energy. Faal wasn't a drinker, and besides, it wasn't worth the risk of exposing her Arrowan origin.

She settled into what would have been an easy rhythm, had it not been for the wind. The current blew wild and in every direction as the abyss mingled, tugging the runners and pushing them around on the trail. The howling current kept her from hearing movement ahead and behind, and she had a dim sense that they were quickly outpacing the pack behind them. Whatever obstacles loomed ahead, she would be handling them on her own.

The wind steadied, although they were running almost straight into it now. Sonia could see Faal just ahead, heading up a rise. He would be slowing for the ascent. She sped up slightly, edging past the fair runner who’d been helping her take the edge off the westward wind. She called out. “Faal!”

Faal didn’t turn, but disappeared over the rise. Sonia took in an extra measure of the leyline energy and sped up, trying to keep him in view. She called, “Come on, Faal. I was always intending to follow you. Run with me, okay? Safety in numbers.”

The trail led straight uphill, narrow but direct, Faal stood at the top—stood? He wasn’t running?—and then leaped. As she came to the top, Sonia realized that the descent was more than steep. It was a sheer drop—actually with a slight overhang—of about twenty feet. Faal was getting back to his feet after what seemed like it must have been a rather well-executed jump and roll—he hadn’t killed himself or broken anything, anyway, which was pretty good for someone without much in the way of enhancement.

She’d seen worse in training than a twenty-foot drop into sand, although she did worry a little about what this might mean for later stages of the race. Exhaling, she centered herself, letting the leyline energy run into her, making sure to keep her ankles, and knees especially, bound in the flux, found a clear patch of target ground, took two steps and leaped. Keeping her knees soft, she hit the ground, sinking deep into her two footed landing, and within five steps was back at speed. Just as well, since Faal hadn't paused for even one beat. Exerting herself a little more, Sonia caught up and fell into step beside him. “Faal. How many drops are there?”

He panted out the words, “I don’t know. Maybe eight? I think.”

“Eight? Are they all that high?”

“I don’t know.”

Stolen story; please report.

Sonia winced. She was beginning understand why Asp had disapproved of the run. “Faal. Drops like that are serious. It’s easy to turn an ankle or break a leg. This isn’t how you run this race.”

“You run it your way. I run it mine.”

“Faal. I told you, I’m not going to run with the pack.”

“Keep up, then.”

Sonia grimaced. “Idiot.” She chased him past the six-mile mark, tucking just behind his right shoulder. She’d let him draft for her, and maybe she was pushing him at this point, so what? He deserved it if he did was going to be like this.

The trail led up another rise. Faal powered into it and Sonia followed, fighting a wind powerful enough to drive her around on the trail. Faal stopped at the top and Sonia scanned the drop. This one was higher still. Forty feet. Wasn’t there are rope anywhere? Sonia glanced around, but there was nothing. “You’re not going to take that jump?”

Faal shook his head. “Wait for someone to help you. I’m going.”

“Have you trained jumping from heights?”

He stared out ahead. “I know the general principles.”

“You've got to do a roll.”

Faal shrugged. “We’ll see.”

“No we’ll see! You have to do a safety roll to absorb the shock of impact on a jump this high. Jump far out from the ledge to build forward momentum, tuck, then extend your legs. Take the hit with your toes and roll forward to spread the impact over your back and shoulders.”

“I know.”

“Wait--find your piece of ground, first!”

Faal leapt out, tucked, extended and hit the ground, tucking into neat safety roll. Why had she worried?

Sonia bounced and leapt out after him. She hit the ground and rolled out, coming up out of her roll just inches from Faal.

“You’ve done that before.” Faal grinned.

Sonia sniffed. “I just learned watching you.”

Faal put his arm out. “Come on.”

It wasn’t a breakneck pace, but nothing in that much wind could be called easy. Sonia kept her eyes forward, her gait steady and she leaned in. Faal was tiring. His breathing was labored. He wanted to slow down—she could feel that much from him, but he kept fighting. She dialed back, slowing up an increment. Faal slowed. They were a little beyond the mid-point. Soon they would be getting more tailwind. Faal could probably hold out, as long as the changes in elevation weren't too drastic.

The next drop came too quickly.

Sonia stared, slack jawed down the sheer face of the cliff. You had to go forward or backward. They could jump or abandon the race, but once making this jump, there could be no return.

“Faal. I don’t like it. This is a seventy-foot drop. I’ve never dropped so far. Let’s go back.”

Faal stood paralyzed above the jump, unconcealed fear shadowing his face.

“Faal. I said let’s go back. We can’t take this jump. It isn’t safe.”

Faal pulled his hand back. “I think I can make it.”

“You can’t make it. It’s too high. And who knows how high the next jump will be. This race isn’t fair. This jump could be lethal.”

“You saw me take the last jump.”

“It was about half of this height.”

“You don’t have to do it, Sonia. Go back. Cooperate with the other runners. They'll be able to help you down. You’ll find a way through it, but I’m going on.”

“Faal. If either of us have an accident here, then we’ll be a long way from help.”

Faal took the jump. Sonia watched him in the air—how he came out of his tuck. How he hit the ground and went into his roll. She didn’t like his roll. His entry was bad, which meant he’d hit down badly. She called down to him. “Faal. Are you all right?”

The answer came more like a groan than words.

Sonia cursed. He was obviously hurt, but how bad? She bounced and leapt out from the precipice, tucked, lengthened hit ground fast and hard, then rolled forward, thrashing her shoulder. It hurt, and she’d taken a lot of impact in her knees, but she’d been lucky. She walked. A second later she was bending over Faal. “What happened?”

“Hit my ankle bad.”

Sonia looked at his right ankle. It had swollen twice its normal size. “You’re done.”

Faal wrenched his foot out of Sonia’s grasp. “I’ll be fine. I’ll make it out before dark. You go. You can win!”

Sonia scowled. “I’m not leaving you here alone and injured.”

“I’ll wait for the pack. Anyway, you can’t get me past the next jump without help. Go. Win the race.”

It was true. By her counting, there were two more drops in elevation. There would be no getting Faal over them by herself. It would probably take several people, a rope and harness to get him out.

Faal's face flushed. “I had no idea you could run like this.”

"I’m going to go back and get a harness. Other runners will offer to help, but I doubt they can get you through the final elevation drops safely. Wait for me. I promise to be back within an hour.”

“You’d need wings to get back that fast,” The grim lines in his face deepened, and the amber of his eyes flashed. “You haven’t got them yet, have you?”

Sonia almost choked. “I’ll never grow wings, but like you said. I’m fast.”

Faal winced. “No one’s that fast.”

Sonia dragged the boy upright and supported him as he limped away from the center of the cliffside.

“Don’t move from this spot--I said within the hour!”