Race

"Good afternoon, ladies, gentlemen and friends, and welcome to DNN Sport 1 for this, the eighth race of the Imperial League season. We're on the Island of Leucadia, in the ancient homeland of the Hermeia family, and we'll have a lot to say about the recent dramas in the Royal Hermeia team as we build up to today's race, but, Bob, we shouldn't let off-track drama distract us from the fascinating sporting competition we're about to see."

"Aye, while Royal Hermeia are struggling, we're seeing some remarkable things happening at the front of the field. We have one rookie emerging as the closest challenger to the defending world champion, Nikita Coro for Lautern, and with her spectacular win last time out in Calabria, you'd have to say Phoebe Tenryuu is proving she's no fluke either."

"Indeed, there have been a couple of points this season where we've worried that Tenryuu's team, Tenebrae, would go bust before the next race, but they're still here and yesterday, in qualifying, Phoebe was only a few hundredths of a second behind Feran Andoal, who's second on the grid after Coro."

"I keep worrying that she's going to push Soot too hard and injure him, Sam, but you'd have to say that there's still no sign of that happening. He might be small, but he's a mighty little dragon."

"He is, and he was absolutely astonishing in the tight inner section of the course here yesterday. There's been dragon racing around this island for centuries, but the modern course, only formalised about ten years ago, is a real gem, an extreme test for riders."

"It is, and the riders love it. You've got long, fast straights and sweeping curves for the first sector out to the headland just north of the cove, then you have a sharp dive, the fastest part of the course followed by the slowest, a really tricky chicane that takes them inside this huge sea cave and back out again, then they're low low low over the water to the final hairpin and back up to the start. Extraordinary mix of challenges for any dragon."

"And you said all of that without even mentioning the most spectacular feature of this course – the start, where the dragons line up along the edges of this dramatic gorge and launch towards and over the stunning Caria Waterfall. You know, in the olden days, they launched in the opposite direction, out to sea, and came back in over the falls at the end of the lap."

"They did, and it was bloody dangerous, I'm very glad we do it differently these days."

"Anyway, speaking of the old days inevitably leads us back to the Hermeia family and their Royal Hermeia racing team. Would you say they've had a difficult start to the season?"

"I think it's worse than that, Sam. I think it's been embarrassing. Five-time world champion Lucia Aelschu is only fourth in the championship, behind a rookie on a shoestring budget, and her dragon just had to overcome a major injury. Arden Markwe hasn't had a sniff of a podium and the team blew his best chance, back at Aletsch, on a miscommunication. And they're a full thirty points behind Temisia in the teams championship. That's abysmal, as bad a collapse as Lautern's last year."

"And it's finally caught up to them. Rumour has it that Duke Hermeia himself stepped in, but whether or not that's the case, there was something of a night of long knives at the team. Marie Antod has managed to cling onto her job as team principal, but Arin Cadimon, executive officer, is out, replaced by Sam Tiabino who used to be vice-president of commercial operations, which is effectively the merchandising and promotion division. Even more dramatically, the team's chief vet, Noli Gelste, has been outright fired, taking the fall for that injury to Olympia. He's replaced by Cada Cabaldi, who moves over from Wings of Fire, the aerobatics team affiliated with Royal Hermeia."

"That's the really extraordinary move to me, Sam. I don't mean to question Dr Cabaldi's qualifications at all, she's a very experienced vet, but she's never been in a racing team. There were half a dozen people inside the team who could have taken over from Gelste. This is someone – I don’t want to speculate who but it has to be external, has to be an investor – sending a message to the team."

"Well, let's not indulge the rumour mill too much, Bob. What we can say, though, is that even with this, there must still be a few hot collars in the team, and we might see more changes there if results don't improve pretty quickly."

"Just so. Well, Arden's starting fifth today and Lucia sixth, so we should see them both in the points come the finish unless there are more disasters."

With the crowds of press and hangers-on cleared, the area around the starter perches felt starkly exposed. The grandstands were behind the dragons, instead of below the perches as at most courses, and while they were set back from the edge of the gorge, it was hard not to feel the weight of so many eyes. It was a hot day, and Phoebe felt a bit like an ant under a magnifying glass, too close to the point at which the sunlight focussed. Camera drones still buzzed overhead.

Thirty yards away, Niki extracted zirself from the throng of vet techs around Incandesia and waved to Phoebe. Phoebe glanced at Adelie and Stefan, who had their heads together by Soot's stirrup. There were still a couple of minutes before the ready signal, and she hadn’t had much of a chance to talk to Niki this weekend – the Lautern stable was on the other side of the gorge, where Lyonne was getting ready for his own start at the moment.

Phoebe jogged over, meeting Niki in the middle between the dragons. That only increased the sensation of exposure, and she could hear drones hovering closer. Would their mics pic up any conversation? There was a breeze, and the anticipatory rustlings of the crowd carried with it. Phoebe greeted Niki with a hug.

“You’ve two wins to my one, you’ll let me have today, ha?” Niki said, grinning.

“Not while you’ve got seven more points than me,” Phoebe laughed.

“Well maybe at least you can get ahead of Feran and keep him behind you.”

“That’s the first thing on my to-do list, Niki, that’s the first thing I’m gonna do.” Phoebe had missed this kind of banter, she realised. Niki would always find some way to suggest you owed zir something in the race.

“Have you spoken with him this weekend?”

Something in Niki’s tone made Phoebe pause. “I don’t think so. Said hi at the presser, maybe.”

“I saw him last night, at the hotel.” Niki frowned, highlighting the sharp angles of zir face. “He all but turned the pig’s arse to me.”

Phoebe took a moment. She was never entirely sure that Niki wasn’t making up these Nordin folk expressions, or what they meant. The cold shoulder, maybe? “Rude, you mean?”

“Yes. I only mention it because he was so friendly at the start of the year.”

“Back then we were between him and Lucia,” Phoebe said, feeling her thoughts accelerate through the sentence. “I guess now he wishes she was between us and him.”

Niki laughed and clapped her on the arm. "Ha! I hadn't thought of that. Have a good race, Pheebs."

"I will if I can catch you."

"And there go Phoebe and Niki, back to their dragons. Only a couple of minutes left until the start, now, Bob, it's lovely to see the camaraderie between this year's rookie class, isn't it?"

"It is, it's rare that we get so many talented rookies in such competitive form in a single year – add in Lyonne Ertku and those three are fifteen percent of this year's grid."

"Indeed, and I'm sure Lyonne wishes he was standing there with them. We've not said much about him this weekend, what with all the drama at Royal Hermeia, but he's brought Phosphora to fourth for the start and he's in a position for a big handful of points if he can keep her there."

"He is, and he needs that, because he's been overshadowed by the other two so far. Nineteen points, and only one podium where his teammate's never yet been off it."

"In any other year we'd call that a blinder for a rookie."

"This isn’t any other year, Sam."

"Very true, it's an enthralling championship we've got shaping up. How do you think that might develop this afternoon?"

"This could be a critical race. If Phoebe gets ahead of Feran – and she might, Corredeira doesn't have the speed advantage over Soot that the golds do – and Niki finishes the race as ze starts, Feran's lead will be down to one point. Even in third he can't be complacent, Ertku's fast here on Phosphora as we've already said, and the Royal Hermeia riders behind him have a lot to prove."

"Could we leave here with a rookie leading the championship?"

"We could. Feels like it's a matter of when, not if, now."

"I wonder – I don't know off the top of my head – I wonder when the last time a rookie led the championship was, maybe someone can look that up for us."

The ready klaxon sounded. Phoebe lifted her feet, giving Stefan and Adelie one last chance to check the stirrups. They were still experimenting with different rigs for the harness, but the straps Stefan had cut for this weekend had been pretty much dead-on. Checks complete, Phoebe patted Soot's back and let him climb out onto the perch.

Here at the narrow end of the gorge, the perch only stood out a few feet from the cliff, but that still put them seventy yards above the river. Mist from the waterfall sparkled in the shelter between the rocks. The wind felt stronger, though that was probably just Phoebe's racing nerves.

Opposite, she measured how Feran and Lyonne were sitting. It was a tricky start here, dropping into the chasm on launch but climbing quickly to the first ring above the waterfall. That climb was steeper the higher up the grid you started, and it would squeeze them all together as they took off. That meant opportunity, but also risk.

Soot and Corredeira would be quicker off the perch than the much larger Incandesia and Phosphora, but the golds' wider, stronger wings would get them more altitude, and in the fast first sector the smaller dragons would be vulnerable. Feran sat upright on Corry's back, shoulders slackened, but he was a master of changing his start at the last moment, dummying his rivals. Lyonne held a much tighter ready stance, more conventionally low and forward. Defensive – as Phoebe watched she saw Lyonne look back down the field, to Arden Markwe in fifth.

The red lights of the starter signal came on, one after another, until all five were lit. Phoebe set herself back and upright, trusting the height that Soot's light weight and powerful legs could maintain on launch. Across from her, it looked like Feran had made the same decision.

The lights went out.

Soot leapt, almost straight forward, directly at the patch of air Corry was dipping and sweeping up into. Phoebe leaned a little to her right, holding Soot, waiting for his head to come round to where Incandesia was already on her second stroke. Soot's wings clapped down again, and they were a hair above Corredeira, barely a length behind.

Incandesia rose beyond Corry, her sage-clad rider a dark needle on her gleaming back, driving through the first ring. Phoebe relaxed her ankles a touch in the gap between Soot's strokes, settling deeper in the stirrups and relishing the stability as her legs absorbed his next beat. Already as the ring whistled past, she was leaning right, gently easing Soot into the turn.

As they piled towards the second ring, each rider took their dragon's natural line for the flattened sweep of the corner, Incandesia out a little wider than Corredeira, himself drifting a few feet outside Soot's line, so they were almost keeping a staggered wing formation. Below them, the stadium car park gave way to lush dark-green forest. The second ring brought them back into following order, Soot's shorter path compensating for his lower peak airspeed.

"That's the whole field away well and cleanly, no obvious winners or losers, maybe Phoebe's a little closer to Feran than he is to Niki, do you think?"

"A hair, maybe, we'll know at the top of the headland. It's that first stop from the dive through the eighth ring that will really sort them out."

"Indeed it will, it's such a dramatic corner, that one. You'll often see bigger dragons having to actually take steeper dives – normally they'd want to avoid that because it's risky, but they have to give themselves room to decelerate flat to set up for the very sharp right-left they have to take to get in to the ninth."

"It's treacherous, too, with the way the cliff pokes out towards the ring. Especially on this first lap before the riders get strung out a bit more down the order."

"It is. Look, there goes Feran through the fourth and now it really looks like Soot has the measure of him, maybe half a length gained through this first sector."

Soot could sense it. Phoebe didn't need to see the gap closing – at these speeds, couldn't see them clawing up to Corredeira's tale, inch over inch, as they passed over the bare rock and fallen pillars that studded the high ground. She knew the eagerness in Soot's stroke, as if she was measuring it against her own heartbeat. When his wings pushed him up underneath her, she could bring her legs up with him, keeping her core body mass perfectly steady, so that only the warm wind on her face and the fluttering of her bangs told of their speed.

There was a brief moment here to glance behind and see Phosphora's head, close but not too close. Not enough time to make out Lyonne on her back, or the polished-silver shape of Fleet next down the order. Then it was head forward again for the critical fifth-sixth-seventh sequence.

Soot kept his flat, all-out rhythm as long as Phoebe dared let him, and then she shifted her weight onto her right knee, stretching out her left with the top of her toes tightened back against the stirrup arch. She held her body high out from Soot's back, right quad working like an industrial steam engine to match Soot's near-forty-degree-to-vertical stroke.

Ahead, Feran cruised in much the same position as Corredeira took the sixth. This corner was so fast, and so firmly-defined by its middle ring, that there was little to be gained by squeezing it to shorten their route. Instead, Phoebe gently moved her weight back slightly, using the fractional advantage of Soot's grace to lift them instead of gaining more ground.

Incandesia went through the seventh ring and dropped like golden lightning towards the surf and narrow strip of sand at the cliff's foot. Feran followed, Corry's wings snapping closed, near enough now that Phoebe would have heard them if not for the echoing ocean roar from the back of the sea arch.

Then it was Soot's turn. Phoebe lunged out, stretching herself flat along his neck, her stomach a mere inch or two from his scales, as he toppled forwards. She set her crownfeathers in imitation of the body-curled shape of his wings, cutting and deflecting the air down her body. Gravity did its work, piling speed on top of the sixty-five knots they had carried into the dive.

Black, wet rock blurred past to their right, the sound of the sea rising as they entered its focus, cut only by the screeching of startled gulls. Again the lead dragons took differing paths, Incandesia lowest and steepest, then Corry, then Soot. Now there was no time to look back and see what Lyonne was doing.

Incandesia's wings bloomed open, spread for an aching, inescapable split-second before she could slow enough to safely back-wing. Then Corredeira opened his wings, blocking Phoebe's view of Niki. The silver swung to flat more gently, quicker on the braking stroke as Incandesia swung harshly rightward through the eighth.

Phoebe hauled herself back, backside to the sky, legs coiled under her weight as much as she could, and Soot responded with perfect timing, wings shooting out to full extension in an instant that juddered her bones. Already she was tightening her right knee again, low and back on his shoulder this time, so his braking stroke already gave them a ten-degree lean and they were through the eighth and Phoebe launched herself from right leg to left in the moment where Soot's next beat cut their speed in half, so that she counterbalanced him hurling them rightward at the cliff and he was already heeling over, slamming air, and they were through the ninth with the canopy of dark stone closing over them and Corredeira's tail under Soot's abdomen.

Below on the sand, in among the marshal's posts and boats, neck-craning spectators cheered, but Soot's position was precarious. Height was every advantage with the tenth ring making another tight left at the back of the cave ahead, but if Soot's beat fell just behind Corry's then the larger dragon would suck away air that Soot needed to generate lift.

Gently, Phoebe nudged Soot left, turning him tighter towards the ring, whose plastic shone in floodlights carefully-placed to avoid any rider's eyeline. Although he loved the chase, he heeded her, and as the beach stretched below them, edged sideways so the line of Corredeira's tail lay under his right foot.

Maybe less than two lengths ahead, Incandesia pulled up in a harsh, near-stalling stroke and slammed herself and Niki round the back of the tenth ring. Phoebe held her weight up off Soot's back for a teeth-tingling moment, waiting for Feran's move.

As the blue-clad rider reared upright on Corry's back, Phoebe dropped all her weight left. Corry rose sharply, in what would have forced Soot to brake hard or collide had he not already been collapsing leftward, trusting Phoebe absolutely as she hung from the stirrups, right arm taut over the side of his neck, dragging them left and down through the ring.

Then it was her turn to trust him as he folded both wings, left flank almost parallel to the surf only a dozen yards below. When he spread again, he cut the air with the precision of a surgeon and the speed of a chef, scooping Phoebe back up as their course righted and they speared out to sea, Feran and Corredeira levelling stiffly out behind them.

"Phoebe Tenryuu uses her weight better than any rider I've ever seen."

"I wouldn't go quite that far, Sam, but that was beautiful flying."

"Really extraordinary work, total commitment, not a whisper of fear, she knew exactly where she needed to be and Soot knew exactly where she would be."

"Feran will be kicking himself for trying to block her like that, he should have known she's too good for that."

"There aren't many other riders we could say that about, to be fair."

"True, true. And for all that Feran's achieved, it's the first time he's had such close racing against a dragon so much smaller than Corry. Usually he's only tight up like that with Olympia, or in past years Therese Ikaha's Lett."

"Yes, usually he's the smallest, nimblest racer out there. And you can be sure that Phoebe will have studied his technique in detail. You know, when you watch her throwing her weight around like that, it's important to remember that the rider is sometimes as much as twenty percent of the airborne weight, the way she positions and moves that weight isn't at all trivial."

"She does use it well. And importantly, Soot trusts her to use it. I worry that one or other of them will get overconfident and hurt themselves, but I can't deny it's beautiful to see."

"Indeed. Anyway, here comes Nikita Coro through the chicane into the stadium to complete the first lap, Incandesia is a picture of grace through there and Niki's riding her beautifully, but even with that overtake, Phoebe's only a second and a half behind zir."

As she had done for each of the first eight laps, Phoebe watched Niki lead through the twelfth ring, fixing in her memory the way ze shifted zir weight, the angle of Incandesia's wings, the slicing diagonal they took through the ring to flatten the corner out a bit and accelerate into the climb beyond. Soot was matching them for lap times, the gap steady at around two seconds, but Incandesia had to hang out so much wider before this corner that she was almost cutting across Soot's path, left to right.

Phoebe lowered her weight onto her right ankle, smoothly sliding deep onto the stirrup, and Soot tightened his right wing for drag, sweeping his left to half-pirouette through the ring, slower and sharper than Incandesia and for a brief moment only a length from her tail before her climbing stroke clapped down and the ascent began.

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The gold dragon shone under the sun, washing dazzling points of reflection over Phoebe's vision. She pulled slowly away up the steep rise to the thirteenth ring, the gorge under the start-finish straight widening ahead. Phoebe held her knees loose and gentle, to give Soot the best comfort she could.

To her mic, she said, "Petunia, how's traffic?"

"Renner in seventh is falling back from Olympia but I don't think it'll be enough for us to use. Behind Ipemas it's kinda busy, the Augirs, Nioli, Calwehr, Arlofis, I don't think we can plan much yet."

Incandesia levelled out, her next stroke throwing her rightward through the thirteenth before she caught herself back to the fourteenth and the stadium. Phoebe followed, smoother and less dramatic but no quicker; the chicane here wasn't tight enough to give him an advantage. Phoebe said, "Gap to Feran?"

"Two point three last lap, you were up three tenths across the first two sectors this time, hold on," Petunia hung on the last word, waiting for Soot and Corredeira to clear the first ring and complete the lap.

Cheers ushered them along. The grandstands were a long way back from the flight path but the wind was favourable. Phoebe didn't try to acknowledge the crowd; she wasn't pushing the pace, but she didn't want to risk falling too far behind by distracting Soot. They swept through the first ring, and again, Phoebe carefully managed her weight to lean them into the corner towards the second.

Petunia said, "Plus point four, gap at two point seven seconds." A moment later, she let out a surprised squeak, scrunchy in Phoebe's earpiece. "Lyonne matched you! He's only one point nine behind Feran."

As Soot straightened out past the second, Phoebe twisted carefully from her shoulders and waist to get a long look back. It did look a bit like Phosphora was closing on Corredeira.

"Twenty laps in, Bob, Soot's still holding onto Incandesia's tail, and it doesn't look like he's struggling."

"Yeah, it ebbs and flows through the lap but they're very even. The big surprise is they're still dropping Feran by a tenth or two per lap, he's got no answer for them in this first phase of the race."

"Lyonne Ertku's going very strong in fourth, too, the rookies are having a bit of a field day. Let's look towards the perch stop phase – that's still at least a dozen laps away but all the teams will be- wait, is that Queru Idcoulh taking a run at Gerry Ipemas?"

"Looks like she was very close through the tenth, maybe Gerry was slow out of the cave, she's right above him now."

"That's good positioning, offset by about a wing, that'll prevent under-pressuring."

"She'll have him at the twelfth if she doesn't make a mistake."

"It'll be very, very tight in there with them turning into the climb, it's not often you see really evenly-matched dragons overtaking at twelve."

"They're both smart riders, Gerry's got to know he's beaten."

"Let's see-"

"Tokugawa's teeth! That's not the way to go round there-"

"They're not going to be able to- whew, they got through the ring but that's cost them both altitude when they should be climbing, Renner's very sluggish to get back on-stroke out wide, there."

"Here comes Teda."

"Indeed, here comes Teda Nioli on Vanguard, taking a much more conventional approach, she's going to pass them both while they're struggling."

"Marca Calwehr miiiight- no, looks like Queru's back up and Gerry too."

"That was all a bit messy, think the stewards will be taking a look?"

"I don't think so, it was clumsy but you can't say either of them blocked the other."

"Phoebe! Nioli passed Idcoulh and Ipemas!" Petunia's voice cut in right as Phoebe was flinging herself left against Soot's harness to haul them over through the ninth ring and into the cave. Incandesia's tail was waving a few feet over Soot's head as she dragged back into her stroke.

Phoebe righted herself, got her knees up, and managed to grunt, "What?"

"Idcoulh made a bad move on Ipemas, they lost time and Nioli passed them!"

No time to think about the implications of that. Phoebe adjusted her stance rearward just a hair. She'd let Soot run lower in the dive to carry more speed through the chicane, playing with Niki's lead, but the flags on the marshal's post on the beach were only a foot or two below his claws and she didn't want Niki keeping any kind of altitude advantage.

Sand rushed by underneath, upturned faces of the crowd looking away in the downdraft. Soot climbed a few feet, staying inside Incandesia's line as the tenth ring rushed towards them. Phoebe chose her moment and swung, not too harshly, down Soot's flank, following Niki smoothly through rather than contesting.

Once they were upright again, striking out over the water towards the eleventh, Phoebe pulled her thoughts together. "Do we have a gap?"

"Not yet I think," Petunia said, and her tone was calm. "They all lost time, you're thirty-two seconds ahead of Nioli and she's bunching them all up."

"They're fighting?"

"It's really chaotic, they're tail-to-shoulder towards the fourth."

Phoebe could hear speech patterns in Petunia's voice that had to have come from listening to the race commentators. If the midfield pack were racing that closely they'd be losing time claw over claw, sucking away the air from under each other's wings. It would be ugly through the tighter inner section of the course, too.

As Soot powered out of the eleventh ring, Phoebe said, "Gimme the gap every sector. Adelie?"

"Yeah?" The vet sounded pensive.

"Get Stefan on the model, what's the absolute earliest we can perch?" She paused for a second as a stray spike in the wind tugged at her hair. "Make him run the numbers, don't let him fudge."

If that gap continued to widen and she could bring Soot in to perch early, before Incandesia, she could get out in front of Nioli and hang there, controlling the space so that Niki wouldn't be able to perch and come out ahead of her, saving some of Soot's energy by slacking off the pace a little. Of course, the same idea would be being tossed around Lautern's strategy team, but they would probably be more conservatively cautious. Hopefully.

"Acciptrea slides up under Renner's right flank into the fifth ring and there, Queru's got the place back again and she's getting back after Teda round to the dive."

"The silvers behind them are fighting too."

"It's a sort of ripple effect, one of them will take a run at Teda and not get the place, then they'll fall back and get passed, then that will cost more time and nudge whoever's behind that backwards too, absolutely enthralling racing."

"They're losing so much time, though, Nioli's not pulling clear at all and her gap to the front six is growing more than two seconds a lap. All this scrapping may look good but it doesn't score any points."

"Indeed. If it wasn't for Tenryuu keeping Coro honest up front, ze might be a minute clear of this pack already."

"I don't know about that, Sam, if anything it's Soot who looks like he has the pace, he's not struggling to stay with Incandesia at all and he's flying beautifully."

"That’s true. If Phoebe plays it smartly with her perch she might win this yet."

"I'd favour her even if she perches too early again, Feran's no match for them today."

"Yes, he just can't shake Lyonne Ertku at all back there in fourth. Do you think we could see an all-rookie podium today?"

"Wouldn't rule it out, a lot depends on strategy through the perch phase."

"Oh, that reminds me, a couple of minutes ago while we were watching all that chaos, a piece of paper was handed to me by our producer, according to this the last time a rookie led the championship was Therese Ikaha in 1444 after that absolutely chaotic race at Aletsch Gorge where only half the field finished."

"I remember that. Terrifying day. Headwind around the Sentry, almost killed a couple of dragons."

Soot beat steadily through the first ring to start the thirty-seventh lap. It felt so easy, Niki just ahead, almost in shouting range, the sun shining, and the gap back to Feran creeping wider and wider. As the cheers from the grandstands fell behind, even the sense that it was a race started to fade.

"That's it, you've cleared two full sectors over Nioli," Petunia's voice came through the earpiece, as crisp as always but with unmistakable excitement. The pack behind Nioli in seventh had settled down a bit over the last ten laps, but they were still slow.

"Keep watching them." Phoebe leaned a little lower and further forward on Soot's neck. She wasn't completely sure that Soot had been holding something back, but if he had been, now was the time to use it. Pushing Niki now might dupe zir team into missing Phoebe's actual strategy. She only needed to perch a lap before Niki did. "Adelie, final number check."

Incandesia's tail was so close Soot could have reached over and bitten it. Phoebe felt Adelie's answer in her dragon's stroke as they swept through the third. "Green. Juuuuust shading to yellow."

"Have Stefan and Tamra set up for the perch but stay out of sight till I say. You stay on the data with Ches."

"Uh-huh. Any requests?"

"All good, just water."

"Is the harness ok?"

Phoebe suppressed the instinct to nod, and the slight irritation that went with it. It was part of Adelie's job to ask those questions. "Spot on. Thanks for checking."

The fourth ring went by, forest below thinning towards the cape. Incandesia had pulled away a little, but definitely not as much as on previous laps. Phoebe grinned, wondering what Niki's team were telling zir.

"I cannot believe Phoebe was sandbagging."

"Look at the times, Sam. The clock doesn't lie."

"But the pace! They were already lapping around one minute eighteen, she's somehow found a way to push Soot harder. Any faster and they'll be at qualifying pace. Isn't that a risk?"

"It is, maybe a bit less for younger dragons like those two but the real question is why - why push now? We're not at half distance yet, optimum perches are probably eight, ten laps away. I don't understand Tenebrae's strategists."

"Well, it's a very new team, they didn't have dedicated strategists until a couple of races ago, and they still don't have anything like the personnel the big teams have."

"I just hope they're not making another mistake. Strategy has cost this team more than once already."

"She's attacking very fiercely through the chicane, look at that! Been a few laps since she tested Niki through there but she's right on top of zir now going into the cave."

Phoebe settled back again, not quite pulling Soot back but no longer urging him forward. They crossed out over the water to the eleventh and Incandesia started to inch away ahead again. Let Niki think this was a practice run for the next few laps.

"Petunia, confirm the gap?"

"We're clear."

"Adelie?"

"Edged into the yellow but the numbers are steady."

"Okay, I'm coming in unless Niki does."

"What if ze does?"

"I'll keep going and we'll figure something else out on the fly."

"Maybe Phoebe was just bored of following and wanted to spice things up a bit."

"Surely that's uncharitable, isn't it, Bob?"

"She's not kept up the pressure through this last sector."

"Hang on, look back in the cave, is that Lucia on Arden?"

"They're closer than they've been in a while, that's for sure – yeah, I don't know if Arden had a problem through ten, looks like Lucia might overhaul him over the water."

"It's going to be close, Arden's fighting it. There was a time where Royal Hermeia would never have allowed that, he'd have been required to hand Lucia the place."

"Yes, well, there's no need for that with them in this hole in the championship, provided they don't injure each other."

"Indeed, I'm sure the team will be on the radio to them to reinforce that message at least. There's only half a length in it as they approach the twelfth ring, but I don't think Olympia's got the altitude, it's Fleet's corner to lose."

"There he goes, that's a sharper turn, he might be vulnerable into the climb- no, looks good."

"Do you think- wait, where's Phoebe?"

"Eh?"

"I just looked up and Incandesia went streaking through the first but I don't see Soot with her. Did he perch?"

"Surely not, that's too early. Even by Phoebe's standards that's too early."

Soot backwinged and rose into a stall, reaching down with claws carefully set to grab the steel rods of the race perch. Phoebe barely had to sag her stance at all to take the landing. Stefan stepped up with the hose and Soot grabbed it, thirstily. Phoebe waited until he'd got himself steady and then turned to catch her own water bottle from Petunia's neat throw.

As soon as the straw touched her lips she realised how thirsty she was. She gulped water hard, racing Soot as he guzzled at a rate that would be almost two gallons a minute. Even then, she barely had time to splash the last of her bottle across her face and toss it back to safety before the dragon leaned over and lunged away.

He held off on his first stroke for a cautious half-second, wings wide as the grass rose towards them, then picked it up and climbed to perch lane altitude. Thirty-five knots felt as sluggish as always, the green circle of the perch lane exit painfully distant, but Phoebe resisted the urge to look back for the approaching pack. Slow flight could be as difficult for a drake as a flat-out sprint, and Soot didn't need the distraction right now.

Petunia's voice came over the earpiece. "Idcoulh's passed Nioli somewhere, the twelfth I think?"

Phoebe tensed, then forced herself to relax in case Soot sensed it. "Are we in trouble?"

"I don't think so, she's a little faster but our margin was good."

"Are you sure?" Phoebe shut her mouth hard as she finished. She shouldn't have questioned Petunia. That was bad radio discipline on her part and she needed to set a good example.

"I think so…" For almost the first time that afternoon, Petunia's voice wavered.

"Sorry, just… tell me when they hit the fourteenth."

"Hang on, Soot's going to come out right in front of Acciptrea, has Phoebe pulled a fast one here?"

"It's going to be very close. Very close, there's the pack starting to come through the chicane, Soot's what, half-way to the first?"

"I think she's going to make it."

"You might be right. That's astonishing, to have that kind of gap, a full perch stop – a minute! – in thirty-seven laps."

"Well, she benefitted a lot from all that fighting between Queru and Gerry and – yes, look, there she is through the green ring and she's got all of a neck over Queru."

"Extraordinary."

"She's really stolen a march on Lautern there. She's got forty-some seconds of open air ahead of her, we know she can match Niki on lap time round here, and she can manage her pace to ensure that there isn't the same kind of open space ahead of zir after ze stops."

"Yeah, Niki will probably have to wait until some of those behind Soot perch, otherwise ze risks coming out in the middle of traffic and losing a lot more time. If Soot doesn't fall out of the sky five laps from the end from exhaustion, it's Phoebe's to lose."

"Well, that really will be the question. We're not at half distance yet, a lot of laps still to go."

Petunia watched Soot sweep along the stadium on the stable monitor, waiting for his lap time to update on her laptop. She didn't quite understand what Phoebe was planning but her speed was deliberately on the slow side, trying to block Niki somehow? All Petunia knew was what Phoebe wanted her to look for in the timing data.

The monitor's stream switched cameras, showing a gold dragon swinging sideways through the green perch lane entry ring, peeling out from between another gold and a silver. For a moment Petunia didn't parse what she was seeing, and then her pulse leapt. Another dragon – silver, that had to be Vision, with yellow-and-red-suited Jenny Arlofis on his back – followed the first.

Petunia grabbed her talk button too fast, her fingers clumsy. "Phoebe, Idcoulh just came in to perch. Arlofis too."

"Gap?" Phoebe's response was instant, clipped.

"Oh, right." Rosemi looked down. Her laptop screen was a grid of white numbers on black, hard to scan quickly. She found Phoebe's lap on the left-hand side, traced across to the correct column, for the gap between Soot and Niki's Incandesia at the front. "Fifty-seven point two."

"Adelie, status?" Phoebe didn't sound like she was still taking it easy.

There was no answer. Petunia looked over her shoulder, the coiled cord of her headset tugging at her dress. She couldn't see Adelie, who should have been hovering over by the stats team's consoles.

"Adelie?" Phoebe asked again.

"I think she went to the bathroom," Petunia said, before Stefan could speak in Adelie's place. How ought radio discipline to work in this situation?

"Okay," Phoebe said, then paused so briefly that Petunia thought only she would notice it. "Stefan, is everything green?"

"Yes." It sounded like Stefan had more to say, but he held his tongue.

"I'm going to push. Tell me the second Niki comes in."

"Here we go, then, lap forty-nine, Teda Nioli stays out but in comes Gerry Ipemas, Marca Calwehr, that's basically the whole pack out of the way, Niki's got to perch this lap, right?"

"We'll know in twelve seconds, ze's just coming round to the hairpin now."

"Phoebe's on an absolute tear, she's already off up the hill with Teda not yet through the first, she was two seconds faster that lap than the last one."

"Now's the time she's got to make it count. There's Olympia coming off his perch now, that might give Lucia the place over Arden when this all shakes out."

"Yes, we have to assume that basically all the rest of the leaders will come in this lap behind Niki."

"Here comes Incandesia, this is going to have to be a perfect perch, Tenryuu's got time in hand."

"Niki will feel like ze's swimming in treacle flying up there at thirty-five knots, it feels awful to go so slow under this kind of pressure."

"They've all got to do it. Phoebe's played a blinder strategically."

"Here's the Lautern perch now, Incandesia ducks and comes up and – oh no, that's-"

"Bad landing, that looks really bad."

"That roar as she slipped, and she's not getting up again."

"She's struggling to get into the stable, look, I think she's injured her foot, her right foot? Can't see from this angle."

"Niki jumps clear, ze almost didn't make it to solid ground there, there is a catch-net under the stable openings but it's no fun to land in it."

"I don't like this, there's a camera drone down below the perch and they're not giving us the feed from it, the director must have seen something down there he doesn't want to show the public."

"Yes, we're looking at the same view you are, dear viewers, and usually the cameras only cover something if it's a bad injury. Perching is a big risk moment for a racing dragon, puts huge strain on their feet, it can tear ligaments or break bones depending on how the landing goes bad."

"It's definitely bad, a perch this bad could put Incandesia out for the rest of the year."

"Let's hope it's not that, that would be terrible for Niki and for Lautern."

Phoebe's blood went cold despite the sunshine. Incandesia, injured? "You're sure she fell in the stable?"

"Yeah, she pulled up to the perch and then kind of flopped forward, like she tripped?" Petunia's voice squeaked, thin and a little hard to hear in the earphone. "She kinda roared too."

Keeping her weight up by instinct alone, Phoebe leaned rightward through the fifth ring. "Roared or screamed?"

"Roared, like a- like, a big, low sound."

The sixth ring swung past. Phoebe shook her head, focussing again on Soot. He would need her help to get through the dive and the cave, she'd have to set her fear for Niki and zir dragon aside. There wasn't much she could say to reassure Petunia either.

Through the seventh ring, Phoebe leaned forward, but held off on the harshest edge of the pace. It was hard to plunge Soot at the surf, past the racing rock face off his right wing-tip, with thoughts of shattered golden ankles racing through her head.

Soot dived headlong anyway. He was loving the conditions, enjoying the course, not knowing yet what Phoebe had just learned. She swung through the right-left chicane after the eighth as smoothly as she could, and at that Soot did take notice. As he levelled them out across the beach his stroke was slower, and he crept higher in the air.

Phoebe leaned gently rightward, pushing Soot's heading wider for the entry to the tenth ring, more like the line that the bigger dragons took. Whatever had happened at Niki's perch, she didn't need to rush right now. When they did turn, Soot took it at almost a glide, and Phoebe forced herself to get back into his rhythm. The race wasn't over.

As they beat towards the eleventh ring, Phoebe said, "Have they moved her into the stable?"

"They're trying, I think the commentary said, but she's still on the perch."

A shudder ran out from the centre of Phoebe's back, down her arms so sharply that they twitched. Soot's next stroke was uneven, distracted by the involuntary motion. Phoebe closed her eyes, her whole body stiff.

"Oh, this is horrible to contemplate, it looks like Incandesia really can't move her own weight where she's landed."

"I think her right leg must have gone down the outside of the perch, they're going to have to get the aerial sling out and lift her bodily, it can happen like that sometimes. That's the side they're still not showing us, her right foot must be mangled."

"Bone, you think?"

"It could be tendons, but we'll hope it's bone, they've got some excellent treatments for skeletal injuries these days."

"They do, you can bring in a thaumosurgeon to knit the bone back together, at least if the break is clean, but there'll be all sorts of tissue damage around the break, it's still not a quick healing."

Soot reached the top of the climb to the thirteenth ring and leaned gracefully right to the fourteenth. For a moment the stripy plastic blocked Phoebe's view, but it couldn't hide the scene for long. Half-way up the stadium, Incandesia's backside stuck out into the sunlight, her tail dangling below the Lautern stable. The crowds were silent, and few heads even turned to watch Phoebe go past.

Drones buzzed around the stricken dragon, and Soot edged wide of them, even as his neck bent steadily to look towards Incandesia. Phoebe patted his scales, unable to offer any more reassurance than that. His stroke was uneven again, off-balance because of the tightening of the angle he was craning to look at, but she didn't try to fight him back straight. She was staring too, feeling her shoulder stiffen up as she did so.

Eventually – it seemed to take an age – she couldn't twist far enough to see anymore. They still hadn't managed to move Incandesia by the time Phoebe dragged her attention back round to the approaching first ring. Feeling her settle back into her stance, Soot surged out past the end of the stadium.

Phoebe did her best to clear her mind. "Petunia, tell me about the race."

"But Niki-" Petunia's tone matched the feeling in Phoebe's chest, like ice spears, painful but terribly fragile.

"Positions and times, Petunia. We still have to finish this race."

"Okay, right." Phoebe could picture exactly the expression on the team manager's face. When she spoke again her voice was steadier. "Feran's leading, Lyonne second, two point seven seconds behind. You're third, about forty-eight seconds to Feran. Lucia and Arden are behind you."

"Feran didn't perch?" It made sense that Lyonne hadn't, with Niki having come in from the lead less than twenty seconds ahead of him.

"He couldn't. Ipemas was in, and now they've closed the perches until they can move Incandesia."

Soot beat his wings and drove them through the third ring. Phoebe suppressed another shudder. If they were making room to airlift Incandesia, that only confirmed how bad it had to be.

"There's Phoebe coming through to start lap sixty-four, and while we've got a minute, let's go down to Tonia Davitz, Tonia, you've got an update for us on Incandesia?"

"Thanks, Sam, yes, I'm here with Millian Ossler, team principal of Lautern. Millian, what can you tell us?"

"Well, very little that you don't already know, I suspect. She's been airlifted over to the medical centre and they're preparing her for transport to a full hospital on the mainland, we've been told she'll be fully sedated for the journey."

"Do you have any idea of the nature of the injury?"

"Based on what we could see she's broken at least one bone in her foot, it's very early to speculate but we think she caught the front of her talon on the flat end of the perch beam, it's a bit like stubbing your toe, but at forty miles an hour and with eight hundred-plus pounds of dragon and rider behind it."

"What about Niki? We saw zir jumping clear, is ze ok?"

"Very upset, as I'm sure you can imagine, and quite shaken. Ze's down at the medical centre with Incandesia, we're not sure if they'll let zir fly with her to the hospital, but we'll get zir over there as soon as we can."

"It feels a bit awkward to change the subject, but what about the rest of the race for you? You managed to get Lyonne past Feran Andoal during the perches, can he keep that position?"

"We hope so, obviously it would be great to have a podium finish, and it'll be Lyonne's best finish so far even if it does happen under a bit of a cloud."

"Well, best of luck, thanks for taking the time to speak to us."

"Thanks, Tonia."

"That was Millian Ossler. Just quickly, Sam, before I came here I was over at Temisia, they say it was just a small miscalculation when they brought Gerald Ipemas in ahead of Feran Andoal, they thought they'd be able to clear Gerry before Feran hit the perch ring but the gap wasn't quite there."

"Thanks, Tonia, that's a very consequential mistake if so, pretty much the first mistake we've seen out of Temisia this season."

"It is, and it couldn't have happened at a worse time. With Feran struggling a bit on pace today, that's basically cost them second. Phoebe's really bringing herself into championship contention."

"Indeed, back-to-back wins, if it finishes like this today she'll be… what, six, eight points behind Feran? And we've seen Tenebrae take a real leap forward on strategy here today too."

Soot landed neatly on the grass in front of the podium, stretching his wings lazily before folding and turning to where Stefan was hauling over the drinking hose. Phoebe slid down from the dragon's neck and patted his shoulder before turning to the cameras. Her legs were tired, the ground felt hard and unyielding. She took a deep breath and waved, trying to look as happy as possible.

A rush of air and sparkling reflections announced the arrival of Phosphora. Phoebe looked up as the big gold galumphed to a stop, then immediately had to cover her eyes from the glare. Lautern personnel pushed forward in a swarm, surrounding their uninjured dragon, swallowing Lyonne in congratulatory embraces as he dismounted.

Phoebe hesitated, but then turned to walk towards the podium pen. She needed to hydrate, and Lyonne would be over in a minute anyway. As she walked, she tugged open the collar of her flight suit. The wind was weaker this close to the ground, and the sun no less potent.

The bright blue-clad figure of Feran Andoal was already there, draining a water bottle. He didn't look round as Phoebe took her own bottle and drank. After Lucia and Olympia had had their injury in Galicia, he'd been conciliatory, had encouraged Niki not to let the drama overshadow zir win. Phoebe felt something shift in between her shoulder blades.

Before she could sort out her thoughts on that, Lyonne arrived, his face grim. Phoebe handed him a bottle and reached over with her free hand to clasp his upper arm. He treated her to a stiff nod, then let her draw him into a hug. Where that put his cheek against her neck, his skin felt almost hot enough to be feverish.

When she pulled back, Phoebe took another look at Lyonne's face. "It's bad?"

"Broken foot." He spoke almost under his breath. "Niki's a wreck."

"Tell zir I'm thinking of zir, first chance you get."

Lyonne nodded.