Silver peeked inside and gasped. Suddenly, the image Hiyyan had sent her of Brajon at the cave entrance made sense. They must have just missed each other. “But you said—”
“I know what I said. And it’s true!” Brajon smiled sheepishly. “So be careful, Silver. I mean it. Use only what you absolutely need, and get it off Hiyyan as soon as possible.”
“Brajon, thank you.”
“I guess even I have some dreams of glory.” He shrugged. “The first miner in hundreds of years to find camouin! I understand now how easy it is to get caught up in wanting to stand out.”
“You’ve always stood out, cousin,” Silver said.
Brajon’s cheeks flushed, but he shook his head, smiling, and continued talking.
“It’s liquid now, but remember, heat activates the camouflage and solidifies the metal, too. Go claim Hiyyan,” he said, breaking into a run. “I have an idea for how to find Kirja. Mele showed me how to get to the royal training grounds earlier—”
Silver dashed to catch up with her cousin. “She has to be there! If you can get her out while I’m racing, we don’t have to worry about appearing before the queen!”
“But—”
“You’ll have to fly. North. To the cliff that looks like a snub-beaked bird. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.”
“Wait—”
But Silver couldn’t wait. She broke off from her cousin and sprinted down the seawall, calling with her mind.
Hiyyan, it’s time.
THIRTY-SIX
Hiyyan peeked from behind the ship. Silver yanked off her tunic and threw it into the ocean, her thoughts swirling with visions of winning. This race, and then the semifinal.
And then to the Island Nations Spring Festival, for the glorious final.
When Silver reached Hiyyan, she combined her camouin with Brajon’s and smeared a thin layer over the Aquinder’s wings. His skin was still warm from swimming and flying, so the camouin activated slightly, though not as much as Silver had hoped. More important, though, Hiyyan’s wings disappeared.
“Your body will heat up even more when we race, so that’ll help keep the camouin in place,” she said. “Hopefully,” she added as the edges of the smeared metal oozed slowly down Hiyyan’s sides. “It only has to hold until we cross the finish line.”
She kept some of the wool to sit on, and made sure it hung slightly over the camouin so that it didn’t look like there was a hole in Hiyyan’s body. Then she used her knife to cut the rest of the fiber away from Hiyyan’s hood, keeping the disguise in place over his face.
Hiyyan’s wings struggled against the camouin, and he let out a small cry of distress.
“Just one race, my friend,” Silver said, trying to soothe him. “And only to claim you.”
She slid onto Hiyyan’s back, affixed the race number to her clothing, pulled Hiyyan’s mane, and rushed him to the starting line. She barely had time to glance left and right at the other dragons, taking in a multitude of colors and shapes, before the horn sounded and the race began.
Hiyyan surged forward so quickly it left Silver breathless. She slipped backward but caught herself before sliding all the way down her Aquinder’s tail and into the sea. The rider to her left laughed. She almost screamed at Hiyyan to slow down, but she bit her tongue, her dreams of glory so near she could taste them. Hiyyan was holding his own in the race.
Silver pulled herself up until she was settled just behind Hiyyan’s mane again.
“Go,” she screamed. “Faster!”
The finish line flags fluttered far ahead. Mere dots on the horizon. They had time to pass everyone if Hiyyan could keep his pace. Silver clutched Hiyyan’s mane, lowered her body, and clenched her teeth. She looked left and right again, assessing her opponents through curtains of splashing water.
She recognized the dragon with the laughing rider. She had a picture of a Floatillion on her bedroom wall back home. The water dragon was so huge and round that it seemed impossible it could swim with any real speed. But it was easily keeping up with Hiyyan, moving its massive bulk with what Silver assumed were huge, muscular legs beneath the surface of the water.
On her other side, an Umbrillo used the fanlike fins around its neck to help gain speed, opening and closing them with little bursts of air. Hiyyan had almost caught up to the Umbrillo.
Past the finned dragon were two more water dragons, including a Vaprozy. Finally, Silver understood why the guard thought that was such a funny racing breed. She’d known that it sucked air in through its mouth, then released it out its backside with a gust of speed. But now she discovered the stench that came with it.
But the water dragon Silver was most worried about was in the last lane. The Shorsa, glittering lavender and sage, was known for its speed. It zipped ahead of everyone, churning water with its tail, upright.
That’s who we have to catch up with, Silver thought to Hiyyan. If the Shorsa gets too far ahead, we have no chance. Faster!
Hiyyan sent back an array of confusion that seemed to say, Faster?
Silver knew she was there only to claim Hiyyan, but the farther they got along the racecourse, the more some other desire bubbled up in her. It threatened to burst from her like fireworks. She wanted more than to own a dragon by law: She wanted to win.
That was her destiny.
Her wrist burn throbbed as she clenched her fists tighter in Hiyyan’s mane.
“Go, Hiyyan!”
Silver couldn’t tell if the mask-muffled roar in her ears was the cheering crowd or the churning sea. She hooked her feet into the joints where Hiyyan’s wings met his body. He squirmed, and she knew he must feel trapped under the camouin. But even if he could spread his wings, there wasn’t room. The lanes were too narrow, and her opponents were too close—especially the Floatillion, who took up every bit of space in its lane plus a little in hers.
Silver pulled her body as close to Hiyyan as she could, to minimize wind resistance. The wet and cold of the sea flicked off her riding suit, and she silently thanked Nebekker for her nimble work. In a race as tight as this one, being lightweight and dry would make a difference. The Umbrillo rider was soaked, hit with water from his own dragon, and also from the Vaprozy to his right.
Silver’s blood rushed through her body. Her knuckles turned even whiter. She licked her lips, tasting a layer of salt.
Visions of Aquinder in ancient battles flitted through her mind. Those riders swept and soared over the deserts, directing their dragons with tightly gripped reins. Silver could almost taste the glory of the olden days. She wanted it.
“Swim, Hiyyan!” she yelled.
There was a roar, then a screech. The Umbrillo had jumped lanes with a fierce cry, whipping its tail at the Vaprozy. The Vaprozy bucked, its rider flinging into the air and landing in the sea far outside the racecourse. The Umbrillo returned to its lane and bared its teeth at Hiyyan.
Were attacks like that legal in water dragon racing?
Silver’s heart thudded as she faced forward again. The attack had left the Umbrillo behind Hiyyan slightly. But not enough for Silver to feel comfortable about their chances to advance.
The racecourse wasn’t a straight line, and Silver saw there was a curve coming up. How could they take advantage of the curve? She closed her eyes and sent her water dragon a scene: Hiyyan, nearly sideways, pushing around the curve with one wing in the water and one wing partly outstretched, guiding them like an airborne rudder.
Silver didn’t trust that the camouin would still hide all of Hiyyan’s wings if he spread them fully. But one wing, halfway stretched, should still be camouflaged enough, and could be useful.