“Focus,” Ferdi shouted.
“I can’t,” Silver sputtered as salt water burned her eyes and filled her nose.
The impossibility of the situation—a debut water dragon racer trying to win a big race—threatened to pull her under the water.
“You’re Desert Fox. You can do this!” They were the last words Ferdi yelled to her as the whirlpool whisked him and his Glithern away.
She wiped her hand across her face, trying to ignore the sting. Her wounded arm had gone numb.
Ferdi slowly moved up the side of the whirlpool, closer and closer to the sea’s surface with each lurch.
Silver’s teeth chattered. “I won’t … let a whirlpool … get in the way … of winning. Climb, Hiyyan. Like them. A little at a time.”
Hiyyan pointed his snout to the sky and pushed with his hind legs. Silver pressed low against his back, turning her face away from the splashing water as best she could, and they moved upward bit by bit, as though leaping to different levels. Below, other racers were struggling with the whirlpool, too. But still more were out of Silver’s sight, and she worried that they were far ahead of them in the race.
Beneath her, Hiyyan breathed heavily.
Keep it up, she told him. You’re doing great.
When they finally broke free from the swirls and reached the surface again, dragon and rider both sucked in air.
Silver scanned the horizon. They had fallen behind four other dragons, including Ferdi’s Glithern.
“We … can’t … rest…” Silver said, her chest heaving with exertion. “Just keep moving.”
For a while, the course led them in a straight line. There was one section with rivulets, where the water ran perpendicular to the sea’s current, and here the Shorsa in the farthest lane tripped, falling back enough for Silver and Hiyyan to catch up. Still, as they began to find a speed and rhythm, Silver’s worries grew. She knew that some new obstacle must be coming up, and soon.
Hard snorts pierced the air. There was little distance between most racers, with only two left far behind, including the racer who had accepted the bribe to lose. Ferdi glanced over and nodded once to Silver. She gritted her teeth and blinked salt water from her eyes.
The sky shifted.
No, it wasn’t the sky, but the blue sea—rising into a mountain with a dangerously steep slope. The Shorsa reached the foot of the mountain first and began a slow and steady climb. The Hop-Slawn rider grunted.
“Everyone goes over,” he snarled. Then he dug his heels into his water dragon, and they both vanished into the side of the water mountain.
Like the Shorsa, Ferdi climbed, and Silver would, too. This mountain was no greater challenge than the dunes back home.
“I know we’re almost there, Hiyyan.”
The Aquinder pushed up the rushing mountain waters, straining his muscles to gain each tiny bit of height. His wings struggled against the camouin cage, and she couldn’t help thinking how he could have so easily flown. She felt his effort in her own limbs, and she struggled not to slip off his back.
A mixture of seawater and sweat flowed from her temples. Her hot, clammy hands kept sliding over Hiyyan’s fur. But she could see the top of the mountain, and when she chanced a peek behind her, she realized they’d already climbed more than halfway. Ferdi was falling behind, and even the Shorsa was only a head’s length in front of them.
As she and Hiyyan crested the mountain, their heavy, thick pulse pounded as one. Then a burst of cold air met them.
Just ahead, the finish line flags glittered in the sun.
“Go, Hiyyan!”
Silver wished her water dragon could spread his wings and fly to the finish. Instead, they inelegantly tumbled down the back side of the mountain and met the mirror surface of the sea once more.
Hiyyan threw everything he had left into his effort, but the Shorsa was dashing ahead.
Silver peeked at the Hop-Slawn that had gone through the wall instead of over as it gained on Hiyyan, too. It strained and snorted angrily. The rider screamed and slapped its flanks with a whip. Silver cringed.
His expression looked too much like how she’d felt in the first race.
And she would never do that to Hiyyan again.
Silver loosened her grip on Hiyyan’s mane. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, slowly, sinking into the rise and fall of her Aquinder’s movements. Warmth slowly built in her legs, then her belly. She reached for and saw the things Hiyyan was seeing: the end of the race closing in, the life beyond with Kirja and the sea and … her.
Her thoughts went to Jaspaton, the great pale city carved into the desert cliffs. A steady thrum began in her chest; a slow but deep heartbeat to match the drum music that was played at festivals.
Thump … thump.
She envisioned meteors dancing across a dune-tipped sky. Her mother and father stood, looking out over the sands, hoping for a sign of Silver.
I am here, and I am safe. She imagined her words flowing toward her parents, as soft as a breeze, gently stirring their black hair.
And still, the Jaspaton drums beat.
Thump … thump.
They were waiting for her—her parents and Brajon and Kirja and all of Jaspaton and all of the deep desert. Waiting for Silver to prove herself, to touch her destiny.
Nebekker was waiting for her, and the legend of Gulad Nakim was waiting for her. A scrappy group of Desert Fox fans held their breath, and Silver felt strangely close to them. She would pave the way for Aquinder to be safely revealed to the world again.
Thump … thump.
The drum sound soared across the sands and over the sea. Silver opened her eyes and came back to Hiyyan. She realized their heartbeats matched. Their skin was the same temperature. They breathed at the same pace. They were one. The air fought against them, but the sea urged them forward until they were a nose ahead of the pack, and then a neck, and then half a body’s length.
Silver smiled. Let go, Hiyyan. Relax. We’ll do this together.
Hiyyan gave a contented sigh. His legs pushed the water. His body settled into his natural racing form.
He relaxed and, with a triumphant cry, shot them across the finish line.
FORTY-TWO
“You can’t go anywhere looking like that,” Mele said.
It had been an hour since Silver’s winning race, and her body still buzzed. Hiyyan was hidden back in the cove, and Silver and Brajon hid in Mele’s room. They listened to the cheers as the final races concluded, and then they heard music and singing start as the festivities continued. The pendant at Silver’s throat pulsed gently. A constant reminder of why she’d come to Calidia and how close she was to rescuing Kirja.
“You’re not the first one to tell me that,” Silver said.
“Let me see your winnings.” Mele held out her hand, and Silver dropped the purse in the girl’s palm. Mele peeked inside, then nodded in satisfaction. “There’s more than enough here to make us all presentable to Queen Imea.”
“All?”
“I’ve wanted to see the inside of the palace since I came to Calidia. You wouldn’t believe the stories I’ve heard! Sweeping granite arches, shimmering gold walls, tile ceilings. And,” she said, her eyes sparkling, “I’ve heard streams run through every part of the palace, where the dragons can swim. There’s no way I’m letting you go without me!”
“Can I dress in crystal-sea silk?”
Mele puffed out her cheeks. “You didn’t win that much money.”