Behind them came a flash of light. Nat had gotten her beacon, but it wouldn’t matter if she didn’t get herself and Vulture out of there right now.
The whole tunnel was shaking with the rattle and roar of the train.
‘Move!’ Asta yelled.
Carmine streaked ahead, the dim arch of the opening growing larger and larger.
Asta and Carmine scrambled out of the end of the tunnel, plunging and sliding downhill toward the river, away from the tracks. Another shattering blast from the train’s horn rang from the tunnel. Asta turned Carmine, and they watched with trepidation.
Vulture and Nat jettisoned out of the arch and down the embankment a split second ahead of the train. One missed step, and it would have been over. The thought took Asta’s breath away.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Vulture charged back up the riverbank. They were past Carmine and Asta in a flash, heading for the far side of the tunnel where they would pick up the course thread.
A laugh welled up in Asta’s throat. Nat had been a hair’s breadth away from death, and all she could think about was the race. The woman really was fearless.
Asta urged Carmine up the hill after them. But scrabbling up a hill like this was Vulture’s playground, and they had no hope of catching them on this terrain.
They reached the other side of the tunnel and found that it was still swallowing the long line of rocking cars, one after another. The course thread ran under the train’s flashing wheels for only a hundred feet or so before it turned away and up the hill. The next beacon was fixed to the side of the overpass on the other side of the tracks. Vulture and Nat pulled up short at the point where the course turned, their path blocked by the rumbling cars. Carmine and Asta ran to the spot and stopped beside them.
It seemed that there was nothing to do but wait for the train to clear.
Unless.
‘Go, go!’ Asta shouted to Carmine, turning him down the track. Carmine ran against the flow of the train, wings flapping. Asta looked back over her shoulder to see if Nat and Vulture were following. Instead, Nat was backing Vulture down the bank, her eyes fixed on the beacon. She was going to try to jump Vulture over the train, Asta realized.
Asta turned her attention back to her own plan. Beside them, the wheels shrieked and the cargo containers rattled. The air was filled with the smell of oil and hot metal.
But they were up to speed, and Carmine was off the ground. As soon as he started to gain altitude, Asta turned him sharply over the tops of the cars and headed back toward the overpass. Asta searched up and down along the rumbling hulk of the train for Nat and Vulture, but she couldn’t see them. Perhaps Nat had thought better of the jump. But a dark shape on top of a rocking shipping container caught Asta’s eye. Nat hunkered low in the saddle as Vulture found her balance. She couldn’t stay there. There wasn’t enough room above the cars inside the tunnel. In a moment, they would be pulverized against concrete.
Vulture began running across the top of the other cars. With the mouth of the tunnel bearing down on her, Nat had miscalculated. She should have just jumped Vulture off the other side and made up the distance on solid ground instead of running on top of the train like a treadmill. But that was Nat: all gusto and no planning.
Asta pushed Carmine forward, hoping that Nat’s error would work in their favor. A moment later, wings spread, Vulture jumped and soared into the air. She swooped into Asta’s path and landed halfway up the embankment leading to the overpass. Asta and Carmine touched down just below, climbing as fast as they could, but Vulture reached the beacon first. Asta cursed, pounding her hand against the saddle.
Hummer’s threaded course veered next into the city. Asta thought she caught a glimpse of their spectators on top of an industrial building with long rows of identical windows. They were getting a good show. Asta and Carmine retook the lead on a broad street that ran in front of a row of warehouses but lost it again when the course threaded between two tall factory buildings, up the fire escapes, and on to the flat roof of one of them.
On top of the factory, the course bent suddenly at a right angle. Asta spotted a beacon at the edge of the roof, about thirty feet to the left. After that, the course plunged into open air. Vulture was going too fast and missed the turn. Nat threw herself off Vulture’s back as the beast careened forward in the wrong direction. Nat began sprinting along the course path as if she intended to finish the race on foot. Asta slowed Carmine for the turn and chased after her. Nat did not check her pace at all, even as she neared the ledge.
The sound of breaking glass pulled Asta’s attention. Vulture had pushed off the wall of the neighboring factory, her foreleg crashing through a window. But she was now gliding back toward the beacon at the roof’s edge. Asta looked back just in time to see Nat, having triggered the beacon, hurl herself over the edge without a moment’s hesitation.
Asta screamed.
Nat had been playing the daredevil all night, but mounting her dragon midair from the top of a building was an out-and-out death wish.
And it was the coolest move Asta had ever seen.
Carmine leapt off the roof, wings out, sailing downwards. Asta looked down, fearing the worst. But whatever deal Nat had made with the devil tonight, it was paying off. She was tucked low in her saddle, soaring ahead. Nat looked up at Asta, and Asta could just imagine the beaming smile behind that visor. Asta leaned back her head and shouted with joy. She knew that Hummer expected them to be fighting each other tooth and nail for this win, but he wasn’t the one on the dragon.
Not every race had to be so serious. Was he right about Silverscale? Sure. But it didn’t matter who won tonight. Not really. Hummer always had to make everything a fight to the death. Asta wasn’t about to let Nat win, but she was going to enjoy herself out here, damn it.
Asta and Nat landed by the beacon tucked inside a bus stop shelter at nearly the exact same moment, their dragons’ feet hitting the pavement with a thud. Their triggers flickered, and they tore off after the course thread.
They were almost back to the depot. Asta glanced over to see that Nat had gone rigid in her saddle. Her body looked hard and dangerous, and her head was cocked forward, the visor reflecting the streetlights as they flashed by. With a sharp jab at Vulture’s side, Nat pulled ahead. On instinct, Asta swerved away just as Vulture’s tail lashed out at the place where Carmine’s legs had been moments ago. Asta felt a wave of fury rise in her. That wasn’t fair play. Nat could have broken Carmine’s leg.
Vulture swerved to block Carmine’s attempt to beat her through the depot gates and let out a bellow of flame. Asta barely had time to duck behind Carmine’s head to avoid getting the blast full in the face. Something had changed. Nat was urging Vulture forward with screams of desperation. She rode high in the saddle now, her head swiveling around in search of something.
Asta saw it before Nat did. A stack of barrels twenty paces ahead, filled with god knows what. She would try to topple them into Asta’s path.
Just past the barrels were pallets loaded with stone pavers, bound in heavy wire mesh, two or three pallets on top of each other, stacked beside a long, flat-roofed shipping container.
