Ablee and Zeph march out of Row side by side in lock-step, both refusing to give up the lead. A chill wind rolls over them as heavy gray clouds pool on the horizon, blocking out the sun. Trailing behind the pair, Rhody pulls her cloak tight against the biting air. Her gaze locks on the jagged path snaking down from the Long Fang Mountains, barely wider than the breadth of a wagon's wheels. It twists and coils like a serpent's spine, its sharp edges promising a quick end to anyone who slips. Far below, valleys lie shrouded in shadow, their depths swallowing the fading light. The only reprieve from the gloom comes from the distant glow of their destination, the plateau city of Mango Port.

It towers far in the distance above the valley floor, a monolith crowned with a lattice of ley-line energy. Its rocky flanks glisten with blue-lit frost. The glowing currents of the surrounding Ley-Lines disappear into the looming darkness like the threads of a vast, celestial loom. Rhody’s eyes linger too long on the sight, and a loose stone shifts under her boot. She staggers, her arms flailing for balance.

“Careful there,” Zeph says, catching her by the arm. Her voice carries a wry lilt, as though the drop below is no more concerning than a puddle.

Rhody swallows, staring at the yawning abyss below. “I've seen plates of spaghetti with less twists and turns. Maybe we should wait until tomorrow; Climbing up it with the sun's light was one thing. I really don't want to try navigating this in the dark."

Ablee laughs, sharp, and full of challenge. She plants her hands on her hips and fixes Rhody with a mischievous grin. “We'll be in the valley well before night!”

Rhody raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean? We've got an hour, maybe two...”

“Relax,” Ablee says, jerking her head toward a weathered storage shack on the side of the road. Its frame leans, waiting for a sharp breeze to pull it into the chasm below. “I’ve got a better way down.”

Zeph follows Ablee’s gesture and raises an eyebrow. “What’s in there?”

“Oh, I've been dreaming of this moment,” Ablee replies. She strides toward the shed, boots crunching the dusty ground. The rusted hinges buckle as she kicks open the door, revealing three small rickety carts lined up in the gloom like discarded memories, one black, one yellow, one blue.

“Soap-box racers,” Ablee declares, her grin stretching wider. “My step-brothers built them. They came back from their trip to Cacio obsessed with these things. Course, they wouldn’t let me or Cline anywhere near 'em. They just sat in these things, laughing their heads off while we watched from the sidelines.” Her fingers curl into fists.

Her expression shifts as quickly as it darkened, her grin snapping back into place. “But they’re not here now, are they? So I’m calling the shots. We're racing to the bottom!”

Rhody’s mouth opens, but no words come out. She gestures at the carts, their wood warped and fixtures rusted under the shed's leaky roof. “These things are falling apart, there’s no way they still work.”

“Oh, they’ll work,” Ablee shoots back "I'd bet my life on it."

Rhody's jaw drops further, "You are doing that, literally! Zeph, there's no way we're doing this, right?!"

Zeph crouches by the black cart, giving one of its squeaky wheels a spin. “I'm not racing you in this death trap unless there are proper stakes, Ablee. Winner is Captain of the Liner we steal.”

“Deal!” Ablee agrees, her tone brooking no argument, “I've already got a name picked out for the ship.”

Rhody steps back, shaking her head. “No, no way. You’re both mentally ill. Can't you see how dangerous this is?”

Ablee gives her an exaggerated eye roll. “No, it's simple; you just need to know when to brake. You'll be behind me, so just slow down when I do.”

“And if the brakes decide not to work?!"

Zeph traces the word "STRUT" with her finger across the cart's dusty side and smirks. “If Ablee's willing to bet her Captain status on these things, I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. Besides,” she adds with a pointed glance at Ablee, “I can't turn down the chance to put you in your place.”

Ablee’s grin turns razor-sharp. “Big words," she says. Before Rhody can protest further, Ablee grabs her by the arm and tugs her into the shed. “Don’t overthink it,” she says, her voice teasing. “Just lean into the turns; you’ll do fine.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Rhody whimpers as Ablee corrals her into the nearest racer.

----------------------------------------

Seated in her cart, Ablee is beaming, her nose scrunched.

The warped wooden frames of the vehicles creak with every shift as leaves of peeling paint fall from their sides. To Rhody, they look like disasters waiting to happen. To Ablee, they’re a reckoning.

Ablee slaps the side of her cart. “Ready to see what these beauties can do?” Her voice rolls down the mountain like a dare.

Zeph tips her hat, her gaze narrow as she inspects Ablee's yellow racer. “You’ll be lucky to make it halfway, those wheels are not secure.”

Rhody hunches in the blue cart, her knuckles pale, clamping the steering rope. The vehicle's brakes groan as gravity pulls the weight of her pack into them. Her gaze flicks to Ablee, then Zeph, and finally to the hungrily waiting void flanking the edges of their course. “I’m going to die. This is how I die.”

Ablee drums her hands along her racer's lemon-yellow hood. “You two better not make me wait long at the finish line."

Zeph huffs and raises Applause, “Ready... Set..." BANG!

Loosing her brakes, Ablee’s racer shoots forward, its warped wheels popping against the uneven ground. Zeph follows immediately, her movements smooth and deliberate as her cart leans into the first turn. Rhody hesitates, watching the two grow smaller down the darkening trail.

“Come on, Rhody!” Zeph calls back, her voice laced with encouragement, “Try to keep up!”

Rhody finally musters the courage. Her foot pulls back from the brake pedal and her cart jolts into motion, wobbling dangerously as it joins the others accelerating down the incline.

They barrel down the mountain, each turn sharper than the last. Ablee leans hard into the curves, her back wheels catching air. She pushes a hand down through her floorboard, turning it to paint, and grabs the path's ledge, wrenching her cart's wheels back onto it. Zeph takes advantage; hugging the trail's inner lip, she pulls ahead, her golden hair whipping like a streamer behind her.

“Oh, real smooth!” Ablee shouts, leaning forward, willing herself to close the distance between them, "Good luck trying to hold that lead!"

"Ha!" Exclaims Zeph, not looking back. She veers from side to side along the course's width, expertly closing any passing gaps, “Talk less, drive better.”

A pile of stacked stone looms ahead. Drifting around it, Zeph pulls her revolver. BANG! A single shot cracks the air, scattering the smaller stones and sending the larger ones tumbling into Ablee's path.

Rhody’s voice rings out from behind. “King of Wands!" She screams, "Isn't this dangerous enough?!"

Zeph holsters her weapon, "Hurry it up, Rhody, you don't want to come in last!" Her keen eyes are already set on the next stretch of trail.

Ablee's cart slips along Zeph's impromptu hazard. She throws her wheels, reversing the direction of her wild skid, "Ahaaa!"

"Ablee!" Rhody hollers as she watches the girl careen over the inner lip of the curve. Ablee sinks into the shadows.

Rhody's eyes widen, aghast. Zeph killed her.

Then, Ablee's cart crests over the opposite ledge, bouncing and sliding, spitting a plume of dust in Zeph's face. “Shortcut!” Ablee shouts, her laughter cutting through the rush of wind.

The racers hurtle forward, the trail narrowing as the incline grows steeper. Ablee’s laughter echoes down the mountainside, her yellow cart bouncing wildly with each uneven dip in the path. Zeph pulls ahead once more, her black racer gliding with a precision that seems almost effortless. Rhody lags far behind, gripping the steering rope so tight her knuckles burn, her cart lurching and groaning under unsteady control.

“I told you to lean into the turns Rhody!” Ablee shouts over her shoulder, "You're making us all look bad!"

“Making us look bad?” Rhody’s voice breaks as her cart slams into a rut, the wheels shuddering. “I’m trying not to die!”

Ahead, the jagged path rounds a sheer cliff face, a drop of hundreds of feet yawning to their left. Zeph swerves around the sharp turn, her focus unshaken, but Ablee’s cart wobbles as she takes the corner too fast.

Zeph calls out, “No more off-roading; you're gonna get yourself killed,” a smirk audible in her voice.

Ablee smiles, her teeth flashing in the dim light. “Oh, don’t you worry about me! Worry about what’s up ahead.”

Zeph squints through the cloud of dust in Ablee's wake. “What do you mean 'what’s up ahead'?”

Ablee doesn’t answer, her gaze fixed on a dark mass looming further down the path. Shadows flicker in the haze, indistinct at first, but then resolve into a hulking, long-snouted form. It moves slowly, its eyes set on the approaching carts, reflecting the faint Ley-Light from Mango Port in the distance.

The smirk fades from Zeph's face. “Rhody,” she shouts, her voice clipped. “Stop your cart!”

“What?” Rhody responds, panic rising in her voice. “Wha- What is that?!"

Ablee’s cart jerks around the next bend, barreling toward the creature. It lets out a low, guttural hiss that reverberates through the stone beneath them.