I glanced up at the stone bridge overhead.
“Oh, you'll see,” said a second year, grinning at us as she walked past.
Someone had painted vulgar images on the foundation stones of the massive building that housed the parliament. Marks of the gang that ruled this section of Treston. Most of the students here never had to come down to the lower streets. Coming down here for a night race, when the streets had mysteriously been cleared of bottomsiders, was probably a thrill for them. To me, bottomside, too cramped and small for dragons, was home.
I glanced across the road. The narrow alleyway between buildings was a black scar, the buildings too high on both sides to allow the faint moonlight to touch the ground. The crowd ofsuited young men with their slicked-back hair and the sparkling, beautiful girls were like carrion down here.
My attention snapped to the left as cheers erupted a little farther down the street. I screamed as a dragon swooped past in the air, its wings brushing the stone wall over my head, its tail dragging deliberately along the cobblestones, bouncing slightly as it sped past. On the dragon’s back, I recognized Shep, his dark skin contrasting with his dragon’s pale scales.
A smile burst across my face as a thrill leaped through my body. Vanya clapped and cheered along with the rest of the students. My eyes scanned the space once more where the dragon had passed. The precision it would take to fly a dragon through a passage this narrow was astounding. My admiration for Shep quadrupled as his dragon touched down at an intersection up ahead.
Another dragon whooshed by, this one a shining gray. On top sat a girl I didn't recognize. She had red hair tied back in a braid, and she wore golden riding leathers that stood out against the dark night.
“Who's that?” I asked Vanya.
“Her name is Suzanne. She’s a third year. She has high hopes for beating Shep this year and becoming school champion.”
A small scoff escaped my lips.
“Oh, you are more than welcome to cheer for Shep,” she said, elbowing me. “Look,” she hissed.
I whirled around to see Shep approaching, his helmet tucked under one arm. He wore his riding leathers, the school’s navy blue dyed into the fabric. On his chest was the school’s champion pin, a dragon’s outline on a silver triangle.
“I see you dressed to win,” I said.
“Always,” he said with a chuckle. “Glad to see you made it tonight.” He nodded to both of us.
“She can’t wait to see you race,” Vanya said, leaning in, her hand behind my back pushing me forward. I resisted, but she only pushed harder. I stumbled forward. Shep’s arm shot out and grabbed my shoulder.
“Sorry,” I said, stepping back with a murderous glance at Vanya.
She shrugged her shoulders and turned around. “I need to go talk to somebody.” She slipped off into the crowd.
My eyes spun back toward Shep as I pondered how to make Vanya pay for this mortification later. “Your dragon is beautiful.”
Shep smiled and glanced back at her. “She is, isn’t she? Petra is her name. And she’s a fast one.”
“Good luck tonight,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
“Thanks, Ari.” He took a step back toward his dragon, then turned and said, “I’d watch from the bridge on Clover Street. That’s where you’ll see the tightest turn.”
He jogged back toward Petra and climbed up into the saddle like it was as easy as walking up steps. The way he looked perched in the saddle atop his dragon, so confident, even when his helmet slid on, he seemed like an extension of the dragon. I closed my eyes, picturing myself riding Myth, and when I opened them, somebody stood beside me, his tall shoulder just brushing my own. Out of the corner of my eye, I recognized Rushland Covington.
His hands were shoved in his pockets, perhaps to fight off the cold, because Scarlett still wore his blazer. He hadn’t bothered to put on a scarf or hat.
“You could have worn something besides white,” I said. “Or did you want to get caught?”
“Getting caught isn't my concern,” he said.
“Right, because Daddy can bail you out if you get in trouble.”
Air huffed from his nose, and he said in a quiet tone, “I thought you said you wanted sleep?”
“Sleep is for the dead, right?”
“Then I can expect to meet you tomorrow night, same time?”
“Wait, I—” But he walked away without waiting for a reply. “Rude,” I muttered, moving toward Vanya, who was waving me over. The noise of the crowd had dropped to a fevered whisper as everyone lined up along the sidewalks. If I didn’t get more sleep soon, I’d faceplant on my notes in class. But that was a worry for another day. Now, the race was about to start.
