Page 113 of Tailwind

Netti had come second. The smile on her face warmed my heart, but the vigour of her celebration was what made me smile back. She held the trophy above her head, making herself taller than the winning boy.

‘All right.’ Theo stepped forward, arms wide to catch the kids’ attention. ‘Who wants to see Lena eat my dust?’

A chorus of exclamations erupted. It doubled when the dire drakes were brought out, saddled up and ready to race.

They were a sight to behold. The dire drakes had the same shape as the juniors – wide joints that let their legs sprout outwards – but were far larger, enough for adults to ride. They had a fan of spikes around the crown of their heads, only broken by two larger horns. Someone had been taking notes from wyverns and dragons.

It was uncanny.

‘They’re pure drake?’ I asked as I approached the first one. Their scales were a warm brown, lacking the colour of the chromatic dragons and the sheen of the metallics.

Theo nodded. ‘Hard to believe, I know, but there’s an endeavour to bring drake racing into the upper-age brackets. These are the first in a long line of potential professionals.’

Even when I’d worked in the Kiestral hatchery I hadn’t heard of anything like this. I nodded to the drake, watching its eyes as I did. I got nothing in response. So they lacked the intelligence of their cousins, or at least seemed to. Yet their head shape, the way their eyes had the vertical pupil … it was familiar enough to remind me of Gottyk. Enough to remind me of how much I missed him.

‘You’re not going to nerd out on us, are you?’ Theo bumped my shoulder as he went to greet the next drake. He took the snout in his hands and gave it a friendly rub. ‘Lena was around breeding drakes before she even started racing,’ he said to the group. ‘Then worked with Kiestral’s brood, right?’

‘Did you really?’ One of the older kids wiped his nose on the sleeve of his race suit, yet somehow didn’t clear any of the gunk from his face.

‘I did.’ I wasn’t used to talking about my background. ‘My uncle used to breed racing drakes. That’s how I was able to race when I was a kid.’

If it hadn’t been for him there wouldn’t have been any way for me to compete. Renting one from the track aviary or owning one had been far out of whatever budget the family had. Uncle Tony working for one of Gedeinia’s top breeders meant a few favours had got me on to the track. Performing well had kept me there. It made them look good if their drakes could win, even with a girl riding them.

‘Who knows the difference between drakes, wyverns and dragons?’ I didn’t care if Theo teased me for it. Understanding the mount being raced was, as far as I was concerned, essential.

‘Dragons are the biggest!’

‘Drakes don’t have wings!’

‘Wyverns only have two legs!’

The last comment started an argument between the older boys. I held back a smile. It was something adults argued over too.

‘They have four limbs.’ I spoke over them, happy to settle their debate. ‘Their front limbs are both legs and wings.’

I held out an arm and drew an imaginary wing membrane between my wrist and waist.

‘Dragons have four legs and two wings.’ I grew giddy remembering the outlier hidden away at the ranch.

‘Lena!’ Theo had familiar glint in his eyes. ‘I can’t believe you’d forget about the dragons from the sixties! Can anyone name—’

He was cut off by a chorus of ‘Ascil!’

My heart swelled with a pride that didn’t really belong to me, but I was happy to feel regardless. I was itching to race again. Theo spotted the goofy grin on my face and, oddly, looked away. Almost sheepish.

The lesson wasn’t over yet though. It was my turn to quiz the little riders. ‘Do any of you know why I’d be surprised that these two look like dragons?’

Guesses were thrown out. Too big, too fast, no wings.

‘It’s because,’ I talked over them, ‘dragons and drakes have never been bred together. No records in the history of the continents has mentioned it happening.’

That earned a few ‘Woahs’.

‘Drakes and wyverns can though,’ I continued. ‘And there have been several instances of crossing breeding lines to get smaller wyverns or bigger drakes. But dragons, they keep to themselves.’

It hadn’t stopped some people trying, of course. Bad breeding practices that only led to dead drakes and wyverns. Sometimes the humans burned too. The dragons didn’t like being used.

‘And dragons fly away too,’ said Netti, reverence in her voice.