As the sun starts to set, you check the leaders on your bracelet:
Adrian: 403 paces
Etzli: 370 paces
Imelda: 225 paces
Only Imelda’s name surprises you. Adrian and Etzli were always going to be in the thick of the action. You’re certain that Adrian is glancing at his own bracelet and wondering where you are on the course. A quick mental picture forms of the map.
Even if they’re in the lead now, night is coming.
The other riders will be staggered through the strangled valley below. Some of the leaders will reach the open plain, but no one will be completely safe. Tonight there will be fights and poisoned ashes. Bones will break. Riders will lose their chance at glory through the smallest mistakes. But the secret route saves both you and Bravos from all of that.
You’ll make good time and not have to worry about other riders until the third night. And at that point, the others will be bloodied and tired. Both of you will be fresh. You can almost hear the odds on you winning the Races ticking higher and higher.
Overhead, the sun falls quicker and faster than usual. The mountains to the west start siphoning away the light. As it staggers down the horizon, the two of you push your horses a little harder. The path leads to a sprawling plateau that overlooks the narrow canyon valleys, but even up here the light is fast fading.
Only when the last golden streaks abandon the upper crags of the distant Gravitas Mountains do you slow. Bravos does the same, reining in beside you to dismount. All your recent training has been for multiday races, so you both know the routine. A ritual removal of saddles and gear, paired with quiet encouragements for the horses as you do.
Quinn stands off to one side and watches curiously. You realize this must all be so very strange to her. If she’s truly a slave, what must she think of your freedom?
Bravos digs through a sack before removing a hand-length sword. If he used it against another rider, he’d be imprisoned for the rest of his life, but officials still allow them in the competition for phoenix deaths. It’s a more brutal, archaic way of doing things. Bravos has always preferred it. He starts forward with the weapon in hand, and you’re surprised by a flash of blue light. Quinn darts between the two of you, hands held out protectively.
But a second later the spirit sees his true intention. He turns the steel not on you, but on his horse. He sets a trusting hand on the creature’s neck and puts his full weight into a deadly thrust. Metal bites through muscle and past bone, finding its mark.
There’s a single, terrible scream. Bravos holds his horse’s gaze and twists the blade once before dragging the weapon free. You can feel Quinn’s shoulders shaking. His phoenix stumbles and slumps as blood starts to pool.
“Gods below, Bravos. Do you always have to be such a butcher about it? You do realize we’re not fighting in the Helio Wars, don’t you?”
You leave Quinn’s side and approach Flicker. Bravos shrugs back at you.
“Dead is dead. We’re riders, Pippa. Faster is always better.”
“Boys and blood.” You reach up and offer a handful of berries to Flicker. The phoenix snorts twice before snapping the offering up. Bravos has already turned his back on his own dying horse as it heaves its final breaths. Flicker is busily munching on the offered poison when Quinn slides quietly over to you. Her voice trembles.
“Why would he do that?”
“Phoenixes die. And what dies can rise.”
A burst of flame tears through the night. It scorches the air and forces both of you to shield your eyes. Fire streams over the corpse of Bravos’s horse. You watch Quinn closely. She’s fascinated by the flames. It takes less than a minute for the unnatural fire to consume everything and turn the creature into a pile of ash.
Quinn’s still looking lost when your horse starts to slump. Shallow breaths tremble out before an agitated cry scrapes the back of Flicker’s throat. You don’t turn away from your horse the way that Bravos did. You kneel down and set a comforting hand on the side of Flicker’s head. You want Quinn to see. This is your partner, your best friend.
Flames burst to life. You keep your hand pressed there. Quinn rushes forward to pull you away from the danger, but you hiss a quiet warning. “Don’t touch me. This is our tradition.”
Fire rushes through and over the corpse, and you pull your hand away at the last moment. The heat is like a snakebite against your palm. Eventually, it forces you to take a few steps back. Quinn stands quietly at your side.
“Do they have to die?” she finally asks.
“Yes, they die so that they might become something more.”
The sky’s rusting overhead, nearly night, as I break out of the valley and onto the open plain. In the failing light, I see a stretch of hills that roll on for several leagues, with a series of canyons waiting beyond them. Focusing, I bring up my memory of the map. I trace those trails and set myself down on the right plain. I know we were never meant to clear this section of the course on the first day. The Racing Board knew we’d all close the first day out in the open. First blood will be drawn here with our ashes scattered in the moonlight.
I’m in the lead. A glance at the bracelet shows the nearest rider is about one hundred paces back. After Revel’s horse faded, Etzli stayed in sight but decided not to test her luck by coming any closer. Not like I’d risk knocking her off her phoenix this early in the Races. Too easy to accidentally break a neck and end my competition before the first day’s done. Besides, she’s the epitome of caution. I know she won’t approach now unless she has to.
I’d feel good about having the lead if I’d seen Pippa or Bravos at all today. Coming out of the gates was chaos. I remember getting an almost flawless start, seeing Bravos startle on my left, and pushing past the Dividian.
All day I expected Pippa to catch me. Her name never appeared in the standings. I’d have liked to take her measure early on. A sizing up in the valley would have been preferable. Bravos never showed, either. It’s hard to imagine both of them made mistakes on day one. I’ll have to keep an eye out. Maybe they both decided to fall behind to avoid the fallout of the first night?
It’d be a surprising choice.
Their absence doesn’t change much. My plan is the same it’s been since the interview. Prepare for the worst. Fight through every night. Survive and advance.
With the sunlight failing, our phoenixes will die bold and bright. It’ll be nearly impossible to hide the fires from the riders behind me. Deaths never last longer than thirty seconds, but that’s more than enough time for trailing riders to figure out where I am.