Page 16 of Tailwind

The straps at my waist tightened, stopping me from falling into the lake far below. As Gottyk levelled out the visor lenses adjusted and I was able to see how many riders had overtaken me – all of them.

Which left the remaining arcans for us, all alone over the lake. They glinted in the sun, the bright bronze hard to spot against the backdrop of the golden cliffs as they blocked our entry to the gap.

‘Okay, buddy, it’s time!’

I leaned forward, holding the sword out over his right wing. He sped up, flying towards the cluster waiting for us. The cooling system in my suit activated – Gottyk was heating up. I grinned. This was something I’d never been able to practise with him thanks to a few pesky laws about not breathing fire outside of race conditions.

Light sparked all along the interior of Gottyk’s neck. At each vertebrae the next flash of combustion lit up, sending a roil of flame along his throat.

‘Burn!’

Heat and light exploded out in front of us. It caught the arcans in a wide arc, turning them into half-melted slag. The sight of them dropping out of the air like stones into the lake below sent a ripple of pleasure through me. The first round of arcans was done.

If I hadn’t been holding the reins and sword I would have punched the air. I may have raced with drakes and wyverns before, but it couldn’t compare to this. Dragons were in their own league. My heart swelled at the feeling.

‘Current position: P10. Lap time: two minutes forty.’ Hector didn’t bother including tenths of a second for my lap time – a clear indicator that I was lagging behind.

The front of the pack would be hitting times below two minutes and fifteen seconds. I had a lot of time to make up over the remaining nineteen laps if I wanted to drag myself out of last place.

We arced through the gap and began our second lap. If this was the only chance I’d get to fly in Volitant then I wouldn’t waste it. I refused to lose.

Being a back marker – a rider at the back of the pack – wasn’t anything to be pleased about. Yet there was at least one benefit. Each time we passed through the lake basin the arcans had been dispatched by the other riders, making it clean air and faster lap times for us.

By lap fifteen I could see the Mirendi dragons’ tails going around the next corner, tantalizingly close. By lap nineteen I could see the details of the white dragons with their spikes painted red. They looked as aggressive as their riders, Gordi and Mac Boll.

The Boll brothers were known for getting hot-headed and making foolish mistakes. That gave me hope. If there was anyone in the race that I could guarantee to overtake, it was the thick-headed nepotism brothers on their Mirendi whites.

We wove through the chicane, Gottyk spreading his wings wide to bank left, then right. Once in the next straight my lenses shifted as I focused on the leader, number thirty-four. Gordi, then. He was wielding a bright white spear, matching the Mirendi team colour. Number forty-three, Mac, had no weapon.

I stowed the greatsword on my back, the connection between my shoulder blades holding it in place. The moment the hilt disconnected from my hand the bright orange blade disappeared. What I was about to try was less about fighting and more about flying.

The brothers veered to the left, approaching the upcoming circuit split.

I pulled on the reins for Gottyk to climb. We needed some height. There wasn’t a roof over the canyon, but there were sensors that would trigger if any rider or dragon went past them, earning a penalty. I pushed our luck as much as possible, grazing the maximum height of the circuit. The crowded grandstands roared as we flew by. It was the first time since the launch I’d even noticed them.

The moment only felt sour, knowing that they wouldn’t be cheering if they knew who I really was. An unknown rookie replacing a seasoned rider of two decades … in last place. I grunted out the bitterness. The least I could do was change one of those.

The Bolls were flying midway down the chasm, taking the medium branch. Gordi flew directly above Mac. One protecting the other as they searched for an arsenal.

Slowly.

Gottyk and I flew behind them, a few hundred feet above. Far enough that their proximity sensors wouldn’t pick us up until it was too late. Their team might let them know over comms, but that was something for strategists to worry about, not me.

I watched them closely, grateful for the visor lenses at this distance. I waited for the right moment.

They swerved slightly, but continued on. My palms started to sweat before the gloves cooled them down.

Then, they slowed. Mac tilted to lean over the side of his dragon to reach for an arsenal I couldn’t see.

‘Now!’ I pitched forwards.

Gottyk gave two powerful flaps of his wings and then tucked them back. A dragon’s top flying speed was around a hundred miles per hour. No matter how hard we tried to catch up to the Bolls in a straight line we wouldn’t manage an overtake.

A dragon’s top speed when diving was over four hundred miles per hour. Gottyk didn’t have the height for it in the canyon, but we didn’t need to reach the maximum. If I’d judged it right, we had enough to cut past the Bolls.

Staying ahead was a problem for later.

First I had to withstand the pressure of the dive. Air rushed past us, shaking me to my core even with the flight suit and armour on. I could see the air streaming off Gottyk’s horns, misty white tendrils that cut through the air. The faux horns on my helmet would be doing the same, matching my dragon.