Phoebe

"Try not to sweat it too much," Sam Tinbru was saying as he settled into his end of the couch, legs crossed so he could half-face Phoebe. "We had to get an interview with you for this race, everyone assumes it's going to be you and Feran duking it out at the front."

The couch was leather, and Phoebe could already feel herself beginning to sweat where her skin pressed against it through her shirt. The daylight through the window overlooking the stadium was cold, but the box light pointed straight at her exerted an almost physical pressure. Somehow, there were three cameras on them, one just behind her shoulder. The TV crew seemed to be about eight people.

Sam said, "Ready to start?"

Phoebe reached down for the water bottle she'd tucked at the foot of the couch – hopefully out of shot – and took a quick drink. Then she did her best to put the cameras out of her mind, faced Sam, and nodded. Someone called out a countdown.

"Phoebe," Sam began, "Welcome to Ma'anshi reservoir. How are you feeling this weekend?"

Pushing away thoughts of how stiff Petunia had been during load-in – the team manager would bring her in on whatever the problem was when necessary – Phoebe did her best to smile naturally and said, "Great, Sam, I'm excited to be here."

"You must be feeling pretty confident. There are a lot of similarities between this place and Aletsch Gorge. You took your first win there, can you repeat that here?"

"We definitely can," Phoebe chuckled. "We definitely can, Sam, the question is are we going to. But yeah, we're feeling good."

"You've only raced here once before, a couple of years ago now on a drakelet, how important is that kind of familiarity for a course like this?"

"Well, it's a tricky course, obviously, but I think I remember the layout." Letting her laughter roll, Phoebe said, "I don't think I'm going to forget where the corners are, Sam, don't worry."

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"You're one point off the championship lead again, and at another course where Soot should be strong. I hate to say it but last time this happened you had a bit of a disaster. Does that bother you?"

"Thanks, Sam, I hadn't thought about that." Phoebe looked around, remembering to keep her eyeline away from the cameras, still laughing, "Thanks a lot for bringing that up."

Sam chuckled too, "Sorry, had to ask. Still, you'll be more careful this time, right?"

What could she say to that? How did other riders handle that question? Right. "I'm here to win, Sam, I can't afford to get scared. What happened at Baleara… we didn't have everything quite right with our setup yet, with the harness and stuff. It won't happen again."

"I hope so, the river gorge here would be a scary place to have a fall." Sam shuffled his notes, then smiled. "The championship, though – there's a real chance you could go away from here leading into the last race."

Phoebe tried to keep frustration off her face. "I'm trying not to think about that, Sam, but it is what we're all here for."

"Feeling the pressure?"

"A bit." Phoebe looked down at her hands. "There's a lot of pressures, sure. But the race is the same whatever happens."

Sam shifted in his seat again. "Let's talk about the future. You must be thinking about next year by now, right?"

"Yeah." It was hard to suppress a sigh. "I'm trying to focus on the racing, but obviously it's on our minds."

"Is Tenebrae here to stay? Or would you look at joining a more established team?"

Phoebe let out a bitter chuckle, "Who'd have me? We're planning to run the team again next year, we're pretty confident we can keep it up."

"Can we assume you'll be in the market for a teammate, then?"

That one, at least, she could handle. Petunia had been very clear. "I can't discuss specific arrangements right now, Sam, you know I can't talk about stuff like that."

"Hypothetically, though," Sam said, grinning a grin Phoebe had seen too many times on the TV. "If you had to pick, would you prefer a teammate who was a relative rookie, like you, or someone with more experience? Does the team need a wise old head?"

Phoebe narrowed her eyes, choosing her words carefully. "I think we'll take whoever we can get, Sam. We're not exactly rolling in cash, if you hadn't noticed."

"What if something big shakes up the market? All hell could break loose if Lucia announces her retirement, for example."

"That's her business, not mine, Sam."

The interviewer finally chuckled, "Alright, keep your secrets. Thanks for speaking to us, Phoebe, and good luck this weekend."