“Hold still,” I told him. “We have to do this.”
When he was saddled, I reached into my pocket and withdrew the tiny ruby I’d stolen last night.
I held it up first for Myth to see. He lifted and lowered his head, sniffing madly at the small stone. “Want it?”
I tossed it in the air, and Myth struck out to catch it between his teeth. In a breath, it was gone.
Ender, let me be right about this.
Then, from my other pocket, I took the final emerald that remained from Rush’s books. I’d kept one, just in case, and tonight felt like the night to use it. Myth snorted and nudged my hand.
“Why do you eat these?” I asked him.
He lifted his snout and blew hot breath at my face, mussing my hair.
“Thanks for that. And fine, here you go.” I tossed the emerald in the air, and his jaws snapped around it. “We need to win tonight, and I think those will help.” At his snort, I lifted my hands. “It’s not that I think you couldn’t win, but Azeron will have been given magic stones too.” I wasalmostcertain, anyway. Time was up to find more answers.
Once in the saddle, I leaned forward and stroked his neck. The smooth scales were warm. “We have to win tonight. I saved you once, but I doubt I’d be so lucky a second time.”
He coughed and a burst of sparks fluttered in little whorls around his den. In all the time he’d been with the duke, I wondered if he’d ever shown his flame. I might never know, but somehow, I trusted that he’d done his best not to. It was possible that the duke still didn’t know Myth had his flame. Minutes later, we were soaring over the city, dread heavy in my stomach.
A gust of wind howled through the underbelly of the city as we dove to the place where the race was set to begin. A crowd was already gathered, the students dressed in their furs and finery. I looked for Vanya, but I spotted Mabel with her arms around Clarence’s back. To my surprise, he spun around, enveloping her in a tight hug, closing the edges of his jacket around her back. The rules of etiquette faded here. Something about stepping down those stairs to the hidden part of the city seemed to erase some of the rules in place up above. Clarence nodded at me as I led Myth to the starting line.
A hush fell over the crowd as I neared the stone wall that marked the end of the street. An interlocking S had been carved in the stone with a blade.
Vanya pushed through the crowd and gave me a hug that lasted longer and squeezed tighter than usual. I couldn’t think about why.
When she darted back to Prescott, he gave me a subtle salute.
The faint whistle of dragon wings cutting through the air made everyone duck. Rush steered Azeron with precision, landing with a quick spin right next to Myth, who lifted his wings in obvious agitation.
“It’s okay, boy,” I muttered to him as applause broke out at Rush’s arrival.
He glanced over at me, his face a blank mask.
For a long, single breath, he held my gaze, then slid off his dragon and vanished as people surrounded him. Then the crowd fell away as the duke strode forward. He lifted his chin, andsilence descended. In the crowd behind him, I spotted Fairfax in an old-fashioned top hat. Other men and women had assembled for this, as Fairfax had anticipated. This was his final gambit, his last-ditch effort to topple the duke’s empire.
I was the soldier at the base of the wall, following orders.
Rush’s father said something to his son, then melted back into the crowd.
Luther stepped forward and shouted, “The race will be two laps, starting here on Chesnut, heading topside on Brightwell and Darby, then back bottomside on Keltree, then here.” He moved his hands as he indicated the roads. “This will be a race like you’ve never seen. Place your bets, if you haven’t already. The books are closing.” He waited as the crowd murmured. “Now, let me tell you what is special about tonight’s race. Tonight, the stakes are higher than ever. I won’t ruin it, but if you’re squeamish, you might not want to watch until the end.”
Gasps, screams. A hole pierced my heart like I was the one who’d been shot.
Luther lifted his hands. “Leave if you don’t like blood.”
“Saddle up,” Luther shouted at us, clapping his hands twice as he strolled back to the center of the crowd. “And remember, it is an honor to be named champion.”
The words crawled over my skin like an army of ants, but a few deep breaths steadied me as I strapped my legs into the saddle. Myth’s steady breathing was proof he was unaware of the pressures facing us during the race or purposefully countering my anxiety with his own feelings of tranquility. If I lost, Fairfax would kill Azeron. If I won, I doubted the duke would merely pull his son from school, but I couldn’t think about what horrors he might have in store for Rush as punishment.
Gripping the handles on Myth’s saddle until my leather gloves pinched my skin, I screamed inside, careful to keep mymouth firmly shut. I couldn’t let Rush lose Azeron. He’d never bond again if he won this race.
Luther stepped up beside Myth and squinted at me. “Gotta say, I didn’t think you had what it takes to be Ruby.” He shrugged. “Guess I was wrong.”
Too shocked to reply, I turned and watched him saunter off into the crowd.
Nearby, Rush climbed into Azeron’s saddle, his dragon edging into line beside mine. A chilly breeze whistled through the cracks beside the bridge overhead in this stone-encased alley. As Rush leaned over to strap in one of his legs, he hissed at me. When I lifted a brow at him, he ran a hand down his throat, miming swallowing something.
