Rush furrowed his brow. “We don’t know what magic that stone held, so we don’t know what his flame can do.”
“Want to find out?” I asked.
The smile that broke over his face struck a match inside me.
CHAPTER 27
“Okay, boy, now!” I dropped a copy of the booklet from the race arena on the courtyard bricks and darted behind the stone door of the lair, where Rush waited, head peeking out to watch. He waved me in, his arm reaching around me and pulling me closer, away from the crack at the door.
His hand stayed on my side.
Myth flamed.
Rush’s arm tightened, tugging me against his stomach as the heat washed over us. When the sparks died, we bolted from the lair and knelt to examine the remains.
The bricks were scarred with black, and ash floated in the breeze, the pages nowhere to be seen.
“I thought that would go differently,” Rush admitted, scratching his cheek.
I nodded. “Myth, can you fix it? What?” I said to Rush’s quirked brow. “He fixed the bench. It’s worth a try.”
We hurried back to the lair and Myth lazily coughed up a few more sparks that zipped through the air and went out. Nothing happened.
“I guess he can’t fix it, then.”
“Guess not,” Rush agreed.
“So, the stone altered the text of the book, but maybe it doesn’t affect dragonfire…since their fire is already magical?” I shrugged, unsure of anything related to magic. It was all conjecture at this point.
Rush tilted his head back and forth. “Maybe. I think there has to be a way to affect dragonswithmagic, though. I’m assuming that’s how my father’s dragons win races. But maybe it only works on dragons who don’t have their flame anymore.” He hung his hands on the back of his neck.
“So, where does the magic come from?” I asked, staring at Myth. “The stones or the dragons?”
“That, my dear, is the question we need to answer.”
After a minute, I started to shiver.
Then Rush turned to me, his eyes bright with an idea. “Why not leave Myth here for the whole break? Come and ride. Study magic.” He shrugged his shoulders like it was the most casual request in the world.
Laughter burst from my mouth. I’d planned on leaving Myth at Cardan Lott over the break, considering I had nowhere else to keep him.
“And what will your father say?” I asked.
Rush stepped toward me. “He won’t know. He never comes here until the spring. What say you?” He lifted his hand like he was about to lead me onto a dance floor. “Come and study the ancient hidden art of magic?” He twirled his wrist like a circus performer about to bow. “Train to win against an unbeatable opponent?”
Humor made the weight of it all feel less suffocating. I smirked at him. “Why train if magic is the only thing that can make me win?” I swatted his hand away, but he lifted it higher, closer.
“Because if both of us are magicked to win, then it’ll come down to skill. I think.” He winked. “Train to beat me. If you can.” He flashed a wild grin, and like a mask had been placed on his face, he was the easygoing Rush Covington once more. “I don’t like losing, and I won’t go easy on you just because I think my father might murder you if you get on his bad side.”
“Ever the gentleman.”
With a flourish, he dipped into a bow. But when he stood up again, his face was grim, all joviality washed away. “If you have any hope of surviving my father’s wrath when he finds out what you know—and he will—you’ll need to be holding all the high cards, which means winning. But if there’s one person who hates losing more than I do, it’s my father.”
My shoulders trembled from the cold, but his words were like thorns in my veins, stabbing through the levity of a moment ago. “Then shouldn’t I trynotto anger him?”
He stepped closer. “He’ll be angry either way when he finds out we know about magic. But if you’re a famous racer by then, you have a chance. If you’re still Arivelle Mireaux from bottomside…”
“I see your point. No one will miss me.” My words came out barely above a whisper.
