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The trumpets blared, and off we went. Moments after we started, Sunbeam changed his direction slightly. The dapple gray altered his course to match. Sunbeam shifted back, and once again the dapple gray mirrored the movement.

“Shit,” Sunbeam said.

“Now what?” Time was running short. I could see the designs on those fancy pauldrons now. They were shaped like skulls. How cheerful.

Sunbeam picked up speed. “Ever been in a steeplechase?”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

“Hold on!”

A moment before the lance could strike me, Sunbeam swerved and leapt.

His front hooves smashed into the knight’s armor, denting the cheekbones on those fancy pauldrons. Skullshoulders flew off the back of the dapple gray.

Sunbeam landed with a thud that added a new bruise to my backside. He took a few meandering steps and then stilled, breathing in deep gulps of air, his knees trembling.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“Never. Doing that. Again.” Wheezing gasps punctuated his words. “Not as. Young as.” He didn’t bother to finish.

After a minute or so, his breathing steadied. By then, we’d been in one place long enough that hollyhocks began to poke out of the sandy soil around his feet. Enough thrown flowers littered the field that I didn’t think anyone would notice.

I wasn’t entirely sure what he’d done was legal. Neither were the judges. They spent some time debating it, but in the end they couldn’t deny that Skullshoulders was off his horse and I was still on mine. When they awarded me the victory, the spectators screamed my name so loudly that it must have hurt their throats.

As soon as Sunbeam felt up to walking, I steered him back to the staging area, one laborious step at a time. Yudit took in his condition and sluiced him with cold water as soon as I slid off.

“If you need to stop—” I began.

“I’m fine,” Sunbeam said.

Yudit gave him a dubious look. “We can switch to Stinky.”

“I said I’m fine!” the stallion snapped. “Most of the competition will be gone by now. There can’t be more than a handful left. I can handle the last few. If Jules goes out on Stinky, we’ll lose.”

“We’ll lose if you keel over halfway down the field, too,” Yudit said, but we continued to cool Sunbeam down in preparation for the next match.

Fortunately for us, even fewer jousters remained than Sunbeam had guessed. As the afternoon gave way to twilight, the final contest was announced. Only one other knight was still vying for the laurel wreath. My eyes were drawn to him as soon as we emerged for the match. He was hard to miss.

His armor was enameled entirely in red, from the crest of the helmet hiding his face to the duckbill sabatons protecting his toes. His shield was red as well, and lacked any other design. Even his lance was red. Only his horse broke the pattern. He was mounted on a slope-shouldered stallion that was, surprisingly, a bright shade of green. When I blinked, the color changed to a yellow that had an almost metallic gleam, like the animal was made of gold.

“Hm,” said Sunbeam.

“Stop saying ‘hm,’ ” I told him. “What does ‘hm’ mean this time? What’s up with the weird stallion?”

“The show pony isn’t the problem. That’s just a horse of a different color. Pretty but dumb. I really don’t like the look of that rider, though.”

The signal came, and Sunbeam shot forward. He started his usual fancy footwork early on. The other horse—magenta now—kept galloping in a straight line forward. The lance in the Red Knight’s hands, however, tracked my position like a compass needle fixed on true north. When we moved, it moved. Without pause for thought.

“I’m going to try for a tie,” Sunbeam said. “Hope that still means a laurel.”

“What?”

“Best I can do. Brace for impact.”

I clenched my spear tightly, the age-old fear from deep in the brain welling up again as that red-armored battering ram thundered toward us, man and horse and lance fused into a single massive weapon.

The Spear That Probably Won’t Break hit the Red Knight’s shield smack in the center. And broke. The spear snapped with a sharp crack of wood. The head and tang went spinning away.