Race

"Okay, Bob, let's run down the grid quickly before the race starts. We've got Feran Andoal on pole again after another dominant performance in qualifying, he'll be very hard to catch. Lucia Aelschu starts second, that's a positive sign for her after a disappointing outing two weeks ago. Nikita Coro continues to impress in third ahead of Arden Markwe bringing up the Royal Hermeia rear. Behind Arden is Gerald Ipemas and then Phoebe Tenryuu, who we might have expected a little more from in quali here. Then it's Lyonne Ertku, falling back a bit from his teammate after they were basically inseparable last race, and Queru Idcoulh rounds out the top eight. Where might we see action off the start, do you think?"

"I'd keep a close eye on young Phoebe, Sam. She got the short end of the stick from Gerry last week and I bet she'll be looking for some payback."

"Yes, she took it very sportingly but being forced out of a ring like that has to rankle. Soot will be a lot faster off the start than Renner, too, and like we've said a dozen times already, there are a lot of tight corners on this course, some very narrow lanes between the high-rises, all of which will favour smaller, nimbler dragons."

"Yeah, I think we could see some fireworks today from Soot if he finds his groove."

The start at Quatre Tours was new to Phoebe - junior classes didn't race here – but she was surprised at how little different it felt from the Imperial Stadium. The same wide strip of pale grey roofing stretching off to the sides, with a matching strip opposite and its own row of dragons. Directly in front of her, the West Tower cut off most of the view of the city, and but for the added harshness of the air it was easy to forget how high up they were.

Soot stood easy on his perch, neck waving slowly back and forth as he checked out the other dragons around them. To his left was the dull silver shape of Fleet, her head and jaw proudly spined with the many years of her experience. Though she was a stellar drake, she was almost as large as Queru's solar, Acciptrea, who was hunching a little glumly on her perch to their right. Phoebe kept her focus opposite, on the distance-shrunken figure of Gerald Ipemas, up on Renner's shoulders.

"Looks like you've got a chance to get even already," he'd said with a kindly grin under the glaring lights of the press junket after qualifying.

Phoebe had laughed. "I don't need to get even, I just need to get past you."

Now, even with her goggles on to keep the wind at bay, she narrowed hot eyes. The line had played well with the pack of reporters, but she was going to look pretty silly if she didn't get a good start. Gerry had proved he had plenty of tricks the previous week, and she really did need to get past him.

Choosing a starting gambit was always pure gambling. Renner, much bigger and heavier than Soot, would be slower off the perch, but if Gerry managed to put him in Soot's path, that advantage would be lost to avoiding a collision. The safe option – especially at this course, with the extra drop below the start – was to go way low and try to get under the other dragon, but that would disadvantage them in the ascent to the second ring.

The wild option was to leap high and try to get above the gold. Raw physics said Soot could probably get higher than even the highest Renner could manage, but maybe not by enough of a margin. And if Phoebe leaned back far enough in the start crouch to signal the high launch to Soot, Gerry might read it in her stance and outmanoeuvre her.

A long, wailing siren rang down the line of the roof. The ready klaxon. Phoebe shifted her weight as far back as she dared, trying to hold her shoulders up to hide the move from Ipemas. Soot took her signal perhaps a little too strongly, she could sense it in the way his haunches settled down and tight. That would be obvious to all the other riders, but Phoebe was committed now as the first red light appeared opposite her.

She stared at Renner, who was leaning forward for a fast, level launch. Two lights. A strangely safe option, and extremely vulnerable to what Soot was going to do. Three. Phoebe couldn't tell if Gerry was looking at her. Four lights. Five. He had to have some trick in mind, right?

The lights went out.

Soot's wings were already on the down-sweep, the vertical thrust from his legs driving up into the base of Phoebe's spine. They catapulted upwards, leaning towards the race direction and the first ring, hanging for a moment for Soot's next beat. Phoebe had time to catch her thoughts and steady her stance and they were already on top of Renner, the gold's tail waving in the shadow of Soot's belly.

Phoebe tensed for a trick but Soot beat his wings again and the force of the stroke pushed them far enough forward that Phoebe couldn't even see the downdraft where it must have buffeted golden wings below. They shot through the first ring, pounding air with every advantage she could have asked for.

It was three hundred yards of gentle ascent to the second ring, and Renner, with bigger wings, should have had the advantage, but if he was gaining ground below them, Phoebe couldn't see any sign of it. Soot was going flat out and she was going to have to back him off soon but she could also tell he was loving it, his rhythm was so smooth.

The second ring hung out just past the south corner of one of the sheet-glass towers of Le Rempart, with the third out of sight on the far side of the building taking the course sharply around its back. A perfect configuration for Soot's advantage in agility. Ahead, the leaders were already tipping steeply into their cornering, wings wide and fighting back their own speed.

Phoebe shifted stance gently, encouraging Soot a touch higher. There was no trick Ipemas could pull that would put him in her way now, and she could afford to give him room to take his own line through the corner. All she needed to do was let Soot do what he did best.

They hit the ring with only the barest touch of deceleration, Soot swerving viciously to the right with a sharp wingclap before spreading again, wings well past forty-five degrees to vertical. Glass swung past 'above' her head, and she looked up to see wide-mouthed faces peering out from inside.

Soot beat his wings again and they were through the third, another sheet of blue-tinted glass to their left and the short straight before the tight left-hander to the fourth ring ahead of them. Phoebe stole a quick glance back and couldn't believe how small Renner looked as he levelled out in their wake.

"That was generous of Phoebe."

"Very sporting. I did worry there might be some silly business."

"She'd never risk a dragon like that, Bob."

"You never know with rookies, Sam. The blood rushing to their heads and all that."

"Well, she proved you wrong already, don't you think?"

"Gerry fairly handed her the place off the start."

"Do you think he underestimated Soot?"

"After last race? Small chance of that. I think Gerry got scared and Phoebe just got the better of him."

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"Could be her day after all, then. Andoal's away and clear at the head of the field, look, the gap's already two seconds to Aelschu, who's defending pretty hard with Coro right on her heels. Arden Markwe's a bit on his own right now but I think Tenryuu might get onto him pretty quickly."

"Four laps left to go here at the Circuit du Rempart, and the big battle is here, for second place. Feran Andoal's off up the road on his way to his second consecutive win to start the season but Nikita Coro in third has been hounding Lucia Aelschu all race."

"Ze's fast round the Metrobank tower, too, look, Incandesia is right on Olympia's tail through the sixth ring."

"Yes, Incandesia's been the fastest of the big dragons round that very sharp, tricky corner all weekend. I was expecting fatigue to take something out of her by this point but Coro's managed the race well, looks like."

"Aye, if anything it's Olympia looking a bit pressed."

"The gap was three tenths at the sixth and Lucia's not dropping Niki at all in the climb. Here they come over the top of the stadium through the seventh ring and it's less than two tenths, I think Niki's going for it in the dive to the eighth."

"That's risky."

"Yes, that's a very difficult corner, very sharp deceleration. And Phoebe Tenryuu's not far behind, look, this fight might play into her hands."

"There goes Incandesia."

"They're neck and neck almost, Coro's really pushing it in this dive and yeah, ze's going for it, that's going to leave zir vulnerable if ze can't get it slowed down in time, there go the wings wide open and look! Ze's overcooked it! They're through the seventh and oh my goodness I thought they were going to hit but that's some good evasion from Lucia."

"Pushes her out wide, though, that was rash of Coro, it put both dragons at risk, and here comes Tenryuu."

Phoebe hung in her stirrups as Soot plummeted towards the seventh ring, feeling blood running into her head. The air clawed at her exposed cheeks and she kept her eyes narrowed, tension in every limb to hold the pose that would minimise her drag for the dive. Soot's wings curled around them, open only enough to keep them stable.

The instant Incandesia's wings snapped open below, Phoebe could see Niki's mistake. The big gold weaved in the air, sending Olympia heeling out to the right in avoidance, away from the corner. By the time Incandesia had steadied she was well below the racing line. Phoebe grinned, opening her teeth to the biting headwind.

Soot held his nerve in the dive, now gaining ground on the two golds as they struggled back onto the course. Right on the cusp of the seventh ring, he opened his wings – more gently than Niki had needed to, taking it relatively easy – and they cruised round the far side of the tower block, levelling out and carrying speed that bigger dragons could only dream of, keeping it under control because the track looped back sharply round the next building and Phoebe could steal only the briefest glimpse back towards Niki and Lucia before glass and steel blocked the view.

"Well, you said Tenryuu wasn't far behind, Sam."

"That was sweet from Soot, wasn't it, I could watch him in those sharp twisty bits all day."

"Beautiful flying, clean as a whistle. Looks like Coro's going to get third from Lucia behind."

"Can ze keep the place for four more laps?"

"I'm sure Lucia will do everything to get it back, but Olympia really looks tired now, that kind of evasion can really strain a shoulder joint and he's hurt his right shoulder before."

"Yes, back in 1450, it cost them the championship that year, really. So we could have two rookies on the podium for the second race in a row."

"That'll keep Tenebrae's bank account happy."

Soot beat his wings, pushing them up and around through the eleventh ring, sweeping around the flagpole atop the Monument of the Bulwark with its old Anjou colours fluttering. Phoebe could tell from the way the dragon's shoulders rolled that fatigue was finally starting to take its toll, but there were only three rings to go. The ascent towards the hexagonal Tour Rhuen and the twelfth ring ran parallel to the low straight between the ninth and tenth, the dragons' shadows racing over the concrete below.

Phoebe looked down to see Olympia flapping along towards to the tenth, now well behind Niki and Incandesia, who were rounding the monument a second and a half behind Soot. The race was as good as over. Phoebe's chest fizzed. She'd barely caught a glimpse of Feran Andoal ahead, but second! Second! In only her second race!

It took all her restraint to hold her stance as Soot wove his way through the twelfth ring. The windows of the Tour Rhuen were full of waving fans and she didn't want to unsettle her drake by lifting a hand to wave back. In tight corners like this, her own body mass did a lot of work for his balance.

They wheeled around the tower and the hanging grandstands came into view. It was so strange to be approaching the finish line from below, but Soot dragged them up the final ascent to a crescendo of crowd noise. One final massive sweep of his wings carried him through the final ring and then he settled into a glide.

Now Phoebe did sit up on his back and wave, looking around for the camera drones that had to be flitting up to catch her face. The big screens around the towers threw her image back at her. Below, The silver shape of Corredeira was swallowed by the shadow of the buildings as Feran circled round and down to the podium.

Phoebe leaned back further, slowing Soot just a touch more, and sure enough, one of the three-foot camera quadcopters buzzed up off his left shoulder, leaning heavily to keep pace. The angle, and the way it bobbed in the crosswind, made the drone look like it was straining at its limit, and something about the thought made Phoebe laugh as she waved. The crowd roared its appreciation again.

Then Soot was tightening the angle of his wings, pulling up and settling to a few running steps and then a walk and then a stop, and Phoebe was leaping down to the marked-out landing mat, waving to the drab press and colourfully-overalled team personnel lining the cordon. She turned back to Soot, but he was already reaching round towards where Adelie was struggling with the drink hose. Laughing, Phoebe patted the highest point on his flank that she could reach.

There was a small area set aside from the podium itself for the riders to gather their wits and rehydrate. In neck-to-toe sky blue overalls, Feran Andoal was already there, draining one of the complementary water bottles and mopping his brow with a towel. Phoebe almost felt like she was developing tunnel vision as she walked past the crowd of Temisia staff around Corredeira to join the defending champion.

He turned as Phoebe approached and a smile spread across his dark-skinned face. He held out a hand. "I didn't believe it when they told me you were behind me."

Phoebe laughed, accepting the handshake. "I'm gonna have to say a big thank-you to Niki when he gets here, he handed it to me on a plate."

"They said it was after eight?" Feran wiped the towel over his face again. He wasn't that much taller than her, now that they stood here together. Something about the light and flickering cameras pounding down on them, or maybe just the sheer noise of his race suit's colouring, made him look small.

Phoebe tossed her goggles onto the table and grabbed a water bottle of her own. "Right on it, Niki just went in too hot and couldn't pull up." She laughed, "Aelschu's gonna be so pissed."

"If you beat her you get to use her first name, Phoebe," said defending world champion Feran Andoal, and his eyebrow quirked in a wink. Then he looked behind her, right as she was lifting the water bottle to drink. "Look out."

"Pheebs!" Niki's arms enveloped her, almost knocking her off her feet and sending a fountain of water over her face, Feran and the table.

Laughing, Phoebe reached up and tipped the rest of the bottle into Niki's collar. Ze squealed in response and hugged harder. Eventually Phoebe wriggled free and managed to get hold of a towel. Feran was offering a bottle to Niki and saying, "That was a good race, how's your dragon?"

"Tired." Niki took a drink. "Hard race for us, very hard. But it's not about me, ha, what about Phoebe?"

Flashing that wink again, Feran said, "She said she owes you a thank-you."

"Hah, if you want to give me places I'll take them," Phoebe laughed. "Told you you'd have to catch me."

Niki pushed golden hair out of zir face and smiled gently. "Get you next time."

The next race was the Grand Prix d'Anjou at the Circuit of the Rhuen Delta, a wide-open course that was the exact opposite of today's twists and turns. It would be a playground for the bigger dragons. Phoebe shared a wry glance with Feran, who said, "Might get us both. But Lucia will be out for revenge."

"I think I should send her some flowers tomorrow, hah?"

They all laughed, and then one of the red-jacketed attendants butted in to ask them to proceed to the podium.

Phoebe stood on her second step of the podium, Soot proud at her back and defending world champion and current championship leader Feran Andoal to her left. She could feel the wide, stupid grin plastered all over her face and didn't try to fight it. Adelie had retreated beyond the cordon and stood huddled in the crowd of Lautern personnel around Lyonne, who must have abseiled down from the race stables to be here in time and seemed to have taken Adelie under his wing.

"And in second place, for Tenebrae, Soot, ridden by Phoebe Tenryuu!" The PA and the poor acoustics of the plaza between the towers mangled the announcer's voice so badly that she couldn't make out the name of the dignitary who was to present her trophy at all. Some sort of minister of transport?

He was an older gentleman with a jowly face and a drab grey suit, a small Anjou flag pin on his lapel, but his eyes were merry as he smiled up at her. His handshake was firm, and he held the trophy comfortably, so that Phoebe was slightly surprised by the weight of it. She let him peck her on the cheek, then pulled back and thrust the trophy aloft. The cheer that answered shocked her for its force, and she glanced up to see Soot's head upraised and roaring.