Petunia

The racing stables at Rhuen Delta – the course was officially named after some long-dead legendary racer, but Petunia couldn't remember their name – were old, at least in comparison to the New Stadium at the Imperial City and the glitzy complex at Quatre Tours in Loudon. As she led Ms. Dewmeadow through the cluttered teams access passage, Petunia felt the difference most in the colour of the environment. The floor was aging, off-white vinyl, the walls a faded chocolate-brown gloss up to about waist height and then much-scuffed vanilla above that. Some of the striplights in the ceiling had faint flickers.

The trolleys half-laden with equipment were another testament to the facility's age. They looked like nothing so much as the wheeled racks you saw sometimes in supermarkets when someone was restocking shelves, and most teams had several parked outside their stable's access door, pinching the already-cramped hall narrower. Team personnel came and went in brightly-coloured overalls or smart badged shirts. Petunia nodded to a few faces she was starting to recognise, feeling out of place in her frilled dress.

If the building as a whole was underwhelming and drab, the way the corridor emptied as they passed the Reubas stable and arrived at Obsydia's door was worse. As a new team, they had the last occupied stable, and the corridor stretched beyond that past two stables for which there was no team this year. The stadium had been built for a bigger Imperial League than what now existed. At least at this circuit press weren't allowed this close to the stables.

Petunia looked back to check Ms. Dewmeadow was still with her. Her boss stood there, dressed more smartly than Petunia had ever seen her in the office, in a grey blazer, pressed white blouse and pencil skirt, umbrella hanging from her forearm. The purse over her shoulder was expensively plain, and her heels didn't seem to have troubled her at all despite the lengthy walk from the car park.

The fairy smiled and, voice bright, said, "This is us?"

Petunia nodded stiffly and opened the door before her nerve could fail her. The stable was too big for its lighting and so the doorway looked dark as she led Ms. Dewmeadow through it. Inside was a large room's worth of empty space even before the rickety old fold-out table Phoebe had scrounged up from somewhere. Soot lay at the far end of the stable, a dark hump with his eyes closed after the two long practice sessions earlier in the day.

Adelie sat at the table with the laptop, her black overalls making her even smaller than usual. Phoebe, in a plain white tshirt and jeans, slouched against the wall near Soot, playing on her phone. She looked up as Petunia entered, though, and levered herself to her feet. Her walk as she crossed to join them, touching Adelie gently on the shoulder as she passed, looked tired and a little bit sad. Petunia tried to glare a message at her, look lively, this is your sponsor, but Phoebe's attention was already on Ms. Dewmeadow.

"This is Phoebe," Petunia turned to make introductions, gesturing to the rider with one open hand. "Phoebe, this is Ms. Dewmeadow."

Ms. Dewmeadow offered her hand and Phoebe shook it. There was laughter in the fairy's voice as she said, "Please, call me Cece. We're business partners, aren't we?"

Phoebe didn't quite laugh in response. "I don't know if I'm ready to be a partner yet, M- Cece. I just want to race."

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"Well, I hope you keep racing, young lady. I think this could be a very exciting new venture for my company. And you must be Adelie, right?" She turned to the vet, who had shuffled up to stand by Phoebe like a frightened younger sibling.

Adelie managed to shake Ms. Dewmeadow's hand and mumble something, at least.

Feeling the brittleness in her own voice, Petunia said, "Well, this is us, Ms. Dewmeadow. As you can see, we've achieved a lot for-"

"That goes for you too, Petunia, when we're here," Ms. Dewmeadow said, turning to face her. "Call me Cece. Not at the office, of course, but I want you to treat me as an equal in this. I hope it will be a long and fruitful partnership."

Petunia felt her cheeks grow hot. "Oh, um, sorry Ms. Dewmeadow. I'll try to remember."

"Cece, Petunia. You have to get it right once first before you can remember."

"Yes, um, Cece, um," Petunia tried to pick up the threads of what she'd been saying. The pitch was so important, they needed more money.

"And that must be Soot." Ms. Dewmeadow looked over at the dragon. Cooing like she might over an employee's pet photos, she said, "Is he asleep? He looks so cute all tucked up like that."

Phoebe half-turned to check. "Dozing, I think, he's had a busy day but he hasn't eaten yet. Want me to introduce you?" Petunia breathed a sigh of relief. At least she hadn't forgotten that part of the plan.

"Please, I'd love that." Ms. Dewmeadow sounded genuinely excited. Petunia opened her mouth to try her spiel again but Ms. Dewmeadow got there first, her attention still on Phoebe as she started to walk. "They say you tamed him yourself, up north somewhere?"

Petunia watched Phoebe look over at Soot, wondering if Ms. Dewmeadow could tell she was avoiding her gaze. All Phoebe said was "Yeah…"

"That's not going to cause any trouble for me later, is it?" Sharp spears of ice shot through Ms. Dewmeadow's question.

Finally Phoebe mustered a laugh, and though Petunia could tell it was an effort, it seemed to satisfy the fairy. "No, no, it's fine. He's fine, he's in great shape."

At the sound of Phoebe's laugh, Soot stirred. One purple eye opened – it was more like it appeared in the indigo void of his scales – and the head rose a few inches from where it had lain on the floor. Ms. Dewmeadow hesitated, but Phoebe reached out without looking and caught her arm. "Don't get nervous, just be gentle. He's friendly but he can startle a bit." Then, in the tone of pure joy she reserved for Soot alone, she said, "Brought you a new friend, Soot, you'd better be nice, she pays for your food."

Phoebe started to kneel, and despite her skirt and heels, Ms. Dewmeadow somehow followed her down. Soot's head lifted fully and started to swing towards them. Petunia didn't feel like she had a good handle on the dragon's moods yet, but he didn't look entirely at ease – certainly not as much as when other riders had come by to say hello.

Reaching out a hand to illustrate her point, Phoebe said, "Let him get a sniff of you, try not to flinch if he licks your hand, ok?"

Ms. Dewmeadow did as instructed, her fingers curling toward the floor like a noble lady offering her ring to be kissed. Her pale skin made her hand look especially tiny next to the enormous wedge of Soot's head. When his tongue flickered out, it drew only the slightest twitch from Ms. Dewmeadow's arm, but she laughed gently. "Hey Soot, it's nice to meet you."

"He likes it when you scratch his chin," Phoebe offered, pointing to the spot Petunia still hadn't been brave enough to try. Ms. Dewmeadow didn't seem bothered at all, though, happily tracing her nail along the underside of the dragon's jaw.

Soot moved his head slightly, nuzzling into Ms. Dewmeadow's hand, drawing another giggle from her. "Oh, aren't you precious? I can't wait to see you out there and flying again tomorrow. Think you might get a win for me?"

"Not this time, Ms.- er, Cece," said Phoebe, not even trying to sound confident. Petunia glared at her, trying to will her to say something more optimistic, but she went on, "This isn't really our kind of course, I kinda wish you'd asked to come next time instead, you'll see some fireworks there."

Why was she so down on herself this weekend? Their pace in practice that afternoon hadn't been bad. They'd talked strategy for this visit for hours before Ms. Dewmeadow arrived, Phoebe knew they needed more money. Petunia rubbed her forehead, trying to smooth away her scowl. At least Soot was making a good impression.