The other riders exited out of the pen as the burning fires morphed into their assigned numbers. Areli’s lungs continued to shake, and her heart hurt to beat, but at least she found some of the tensions begin to subside as she now flew alone. She continued with the circles. She continued to plead with her nerves to relax. Her ears felt like they might explode, as the crowd could be heard through the walls. Areli thought the stone might crack and break. Their screams never ceased. Never took a break. They only seemed to grow, louder and louder. Areli looked down at the flames below. They had shifted. Now, they were in the shape of her number. They were calling her to the tower. The moment had come.
She could hear her name vibrate through the wall. The crowd’s anticipation was choking her. Her heart galloped and sprinted in her chest. She thought her lungs may not have the endurance to keep up. She dug her leg into Kaia’s side, and held the reins left and low. Kaia broke from their circle, cutting through the air and headed for the ground.
The wind curled through Areli’s hair, and she had to squint her eyes to keep them firmly in their sockets. Once near the bottom, Areli steered Kaia into a wood tunnel, complete with lanterns to guide their way to the exodus at the top.
When they neared the exit, Areli could see blue skies and white wisps of clouds. Once unhidden, the crowd’s excitement rivaled that of a child’s during gift-giving on their birthday. Their enthusiasm hit her like aged ale on an empty stomach. Areli had to fight to keep the reins loose as she circled Kaia once around the top of a massive oak tower, which served as the dive-point into the run. Easy, Areli, she told herself, just be easy. She gathered the reins into her hands and sunk her rump into the seat. With a few stabilizing flaps, Kaia was safely on the tower.
Her heart continued to tease her lungs, as if taunting them into a race. Areli felt sick again. Her stomach had somehow twisted itself into a series of knots that not even a sailor could undo. She felt lighthearted. She felt like she might faint. She reached for the saddlehorn, desperate to keep up with her mount. You have to win, she told herself, you have to. You can’t be here anymore. This is your ticket, Areli. It comes only once this year.
She inched Kaia forward to the edge of the tower, her insides taking a knife to the knots. She let the wind play with her hair, wishing it would sweep away her qualms along with it. Plucking them from her like the seeds of a cloud-flower.
She let her eyes drift down to the coliseum, the source of the noise below. Three columns protruded out of its middle. Set into a perfect triangle. How she performs around those three columns decides her fate. How she performs around those three columns decides everything. All she waited on now were the horns. Telling her it was okay to go. Areli closed her eyes. You are the best, Areli, she told herself. You are the greatest Column Racer in the world. Believe, Areli – believe in yourself. Believe in Kaia. Trust your instincts. Fight the fear building inside you. Rip it to shreds. Rekindle your fire. Place on top of it the biggest and driest of logs. Be fierce. Be quick. Be agile. For Kaia. For your future.
A horn was sounded from the coliseum. Volcanic cheers erupted from below, filling the skies with translucent ash, bearing the weight of her name. A second horn sounded. This one more near. Areli opened her eyes in time to see the gold instrument dropped from the lips of a servant next to her. It was time. All was a go. It was all on her now. She had always lived to race. But today. She had to race to live. And for both her and Kaia’s sake, the outcome could only be one thing.
She edged Kaia forward, until her dragon’s shortened claws hung off the side of the platform. Areli gave a kick . . . and then they were gone. Hopefully, racing for Oroin for the final time.
The wind was violent to Areli’s hair as if snapping and clawing at it like some vicious wild animal. It tried to gauge out her eyes, cleaning them from her skull, but Areli only fed it tears. As she and Kaia dove, Areli’s heart, her lungs, and every bone in her body fought to stay as one, as half of her felt like it was still stuck on the platform, and the other half was plummeting towards the ground.
Areli gave another kick. Kaia responded by spreading her wings, but only a few feet from her body. Wind gathered into the membranous sheaths and helped stabilize the drive, slowing them down enough to enter the alley connected to the coliseum, but not enough to ruin their run. Wind howled in Areli’s ear and then turned into a hiss, as she and Kaia flew through the wooden tunnel, inhabited by lanterns. With the swiftness of an arrow, they cleared through the alley and into the arena. Areli kept her back low, for she couldn’t grab the saddle horn and she didn’t want to be a victim of the wind.
She worked the leather in her fingers as she directed Kaia to the first column on the right. She felt the firmness of Kaia’s neck as she surged her calf into her dragon’s skin, commanding her to turn. Deft fingers of one hand were used to extend the reins to the inside, and the other urgently sought the saddle horn. The turns were devastatingly sharp and dreadfully jerky. If a rider failed to secure her mount before the turn, her parents would be left daughterless and ashamed. Their dragon, if alive, sold to slaughter.
The reins went back to their normal position. Areli’s hands holding them securely but gently. She kept them low, almost to the point of grazing her dragon’s skin. Areli kicked Kaia aggressively to the other side of the arena, as if cutting it perfectly in half. They flew in a matter of blinks to the second column.
Her hand went white, and her arm strained, as she kept herself from being thrown from the saddle as they rounded the column. Both hands found the reins again as they cleared through. Her legs tapped rapidly and forcefully against Kaia’s neck, with the speed and poise of rabbit’s feet’s being chased by carnivorous foes. They clipped through the air. Kaia’s wings going up and down harshly, yet gracefully, making flapping sounds that boomed in comparison to those of birds as they rushed towards the final column.
Areli held the reins out over Kaia’s shoulder, keeping them low, and pulled Kaia around the third. She had to kick Kaia hard now. She had to push her dragon as hard as she could be pushed. All that was left was the sprint back and through the alley. With the reins held only an inch from Kaia’s neck, Areli’s legs beating against Kaia’s skin, and her lips making exaggerated smooching noises, they cut through the air like a predatory bird towards its prey.
They cleared back through the alley. It was over. The pattern was complete. Areli found it unbearably hard to breathe as she and Kaia were now flying into open space. Every breath was truncated. Every heartbeat pounded with a skip. Eyes were watching her from below. Eyes were watching her from above. Her name was crowding out the air in the atmosphere. It was being pushed to every nook and cranny in her sector. It was a good run. It might have even been perfect.
She slowly directed Kaia back into the warm-up pen, using the tunnel next to the tower. Her trainer was already waiting. Tears raining from her eyes.
“What was our time?” shouted Areli, her mind whirling like the wind and her heart thumping against her sternum. Her trainer opened her mouth. But nothing was said. Or nothing could be heard. Only her name. It sang from every mouth present. It threatened to break every window and tear down every wall. Areli quickly descended the ladder. Her trainer hugged her, her body shaking from either sadness or joy.
“You did it, Areli!” yelled her trainer, holding Areli by the cheeks. It came out as a murmur, but Areli knew her trainer’s voice was straining to combat the crowd. “You and Kaia did it!”
Areli’s eyes started to fill with tears as the news absorbed into her brain. Her lungs ceased to bring in or expel air. And her voice was temporarily stuck in her throat. She held her trainer like never before. She had accomplished what only two other riders had ever done before her. She had achieved an undefeated season. And now the Emperor’s recruitment letter was a certainty to come. She had just earned her way into the greatest column racing Hall in the world. She had just given herself the best opportunity to save her dragon’s life and extend her career. She had jus
t escaped from the pain and horrors of her sector. She escaped from the nightmare created from the prevalence of Degendhard the Great.
Chapter Two
He looked peaceful as he slept. It was hard to believe he was hanging on to the very edge of life when her father found him. And it was a miracle he even survived. Her father had to do a lot of work, and even took many supplies from his own medical facility, to patch up the boy. He had come to them severely burned. At first she thought it strange that the burns didn’t scorch his back. And a thin line around his waist was untouched. Her heart almost fell out of her chest when her father told her the truth.
“There was someone with him,” said her father, “someone else took the blow of the flames.” They both knew from the severity and location of the injuries, it could have only been done by the breath of a battle dragon. “But the thing is. These injuries, even though not healed, are not the freshest.” Her father’s eyes went to the other wounds that the boy had sustained.
She felt sorry for him. But the boy was fortunate her father found him. Her father had always been proficient at experimenting with new procedures, and at times she feared that her father took this boy in as a project and not as a human being. Her father had to strip away layers of tissue and even clear muscle away from bone. For weeks, the boy lived in the bottom of a tub, covered in a solution her father told her was experimental, but if it worked, it would reconstruct his muscles, forming them again like a baby in the womb. And essentially, that’s what the boy was. Just a baby in womb, a tube sewed into his stomach in order to push him nutrients and another tube in his neck to provide him with air. Her father jumped around excitedly as the boy’s muscles and other injuries healed in the solution. Areli couldn’t help but be overjoyed as well.
Next, were the skin graftations, paste-like medications in short supply these days, unless you live in Abhi. The boy seemed to be on a rotisserie, as he had pins sticking out of his legs, feet, and shoulders, to hold him in place above the thick creamy solution held in a wooden pan, so only half of his body was submerged. The wounds on the front of his body were bandaged, and the worst ones were stitched. Another week went by, and then he was placed in a bed, in a secret room her father had their servants create. He was going to be beautiful again. No longer deformed or scarred from his injuries. After a few days he awoke. He introduced himself as Talon.
It was now a month from when he first spoke. His body had lost its swelling, and the bruising had nearly all faded. The hair on the back of his head was growing back in, and he worked hard with Areli’s father doing physical therapy to strengthen his muscles and flexibility. His beauty had returned. His black hair was long and his blue eyes crisp. If Areli had one regret about leaving, he was it. She wished she had more time with him. Time to sort out if the feelings she had for him were real or not.
Areli took a seat next to him, poured fresh water into his glass, and pulled the sheets up to his chin. She sat and looked at him, wondering what was going to happen to him after they left. Would he come find her?
She was ashamed at herself for how much she loathed her father when he first brought Talon there. His clothes covered with mud and blood. Areli was surprised to learn that Talon was a messenger. And she was even more surprised that he hadn’t sacrificed himself to the flame. But she was always grateful that he hadn’t.
But suicide by fire was the way of death for messengers these days. They couldn’t afford to be caught alive. Now, more than ever. Their cause was noble. Carrying out the duties of Degendhard, helping the poor and the suffering. But even though their actions were high in ideals, no one threatened the power and the might of an Empire, especially one at the helm of a mad man. They were fools to think they would go unpunished.
Suddenly, Talon opened his eyes and looked at Areli with both fear and hostility. His body jostled into an attack position, grasping her arm in the process. She stared at him, her heart racing, her eyes unafraid. He let go of her wrist and leaned his head back into his pillow.
“I’m so sorry, Areli,” said Talon.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, Talon,” said Areli. She sat on her hands, the only evidence that he had frightened her. Areli looked around the small room. She looked for a quick distraction. The walls were painted by her mother. They were a soft blue, an attempt to bring peace to his troubled heart.
The only furniture was the bed Talon laid on and the small dresser next to it. On the floor sat his boots, un-caked of mud, his bow, quiver of arrows, and sword, cleaned of blood. Underneath the wooden bed frame were several small bags. Gifts left undelivered.
“We’re leaving today,” said Areli, guiltily hoping for sadness in his eyes at her departure. A sign that he cared for her. Talon blinked his eyes twice, not taking his gaze away from the ceiling.
“I am aware,” said Talon, now looking at her.
“Father wanted me to tell you that he placed several more bottles of antibiotics in the corner. You are to chew one whole leaf every four hours. He’s left instruction. He says it’s important. He says your immune system is still weak and you can’t risk an infection.”
“I understand,” said Talon, “your father. He’s a gracious man.”
“Mother also made you several loaves of bread, smoked different types of meat, and left a pile of clothes for you to take with you when you leave here.” Talon closed his eyes and nodded again. She wondered if this was pain for her, pain for her parents, or pain for them all.
“Tell them thank you,” said Talon, “I know I have already told them this . . . but . . . I am forever indebted to them for their kindness.”
“You are kind, Talon. I will be sure to tell them,” said Areli, taking her eyes off him and directing them to the ladder attached to the floor above.
“I also want to thank you, Areli,” said Talon. Areli turned to him and looked kindly into his eyes.
“For what?” asked Areli, hoping for a confession of love.
“For being my friend.” Areli leaned back heavily into the chair. This was not what she was looking for. This was not at all what she was hoping for. “I’ve upset you.”
“No . . . you, haven’t,” responded Areli, hoping her tone could be convincing.
“Areli – I didn’t mean to hurt you – have I offended you?” asked Talon, sitting up in bed. She looked at him. She fought against the tears working their way to the surface of her eyes. She wished she could cover her face up with her hands, but that would give it away even more. Her lips started to tremble and her hands started to shake.
“I have to go, Talon,” said Areli sniffling, scratching away a stray tear.
“Areli, wait!” He reached for her, but she had already left the chair.
Areli walked to the ladder and was about to reach for a dangling cord. Talon was sitting up on the edge of his bed, pleading with her to come back. She looked back at him, her eyes struggling to keep the pain hidden.
“I love you, Talon,” said Areli, “don’t you love me? Don’t you care for me?
“Of course I care for you, Areli.”
“But do you love me?” Areli didn’t know why she was demanding an answer. She had liked him. Cared for him. And she thought that maybe these feelings could be love, but she wasn’t entirely sure. But she had said love. And now, she felt vulnerable. Could Talon not love her back? Could he be unsure like she? She was foolish, she knew. Why couldn’t she just have worked this out, instead of pressuring him to confess something he may or may not feel?
“Areli . . . I . . .” Areli’s lower lip folded into in her mouth and tears started to streak down her face. She was hurt. She knew now that she desperately wanted someone to love her, and now, even in her pain, she wondered if she required that person to really mean it or not. Just hearing it could be enough for her. Why couldn’t he just have lied? At least this time. Give her this moment of heroic love and be done with it.
“Goodbye, Talon,” forced out Areli, pulling the cord, revealing the entrance to the
hidden room. She quickly climbed up the ladder, leaving him there. Not knowing that she had left him broken and alone.
“Miss Roberts,” said a servant, “your hand.” An old man, with wrinkles spreading across his forehead and flooding beneath his eyes like cob webs, held out a knobby hand that appeared to be nothing but skin on bone. Areli grabbed for it, and the man helped her up onto the main level with hidden strength. Areli didn’t look back into the hole as the man concealed the boards and replaced the large dresser over the top of it.
Areli quickly ran to her maid, who held her firmly, yet gently.
“It’s okay, darling,” said the maid, “you’re going to be okay.”
“You don’t have to worry, Miss Roberts,” said the servant, “the boy is in good hands.”
“I don’t think that’s what she’s crying about,” said the maid.
“Well, then what . . . ooooh,” said the servant, as the maid gave him a hard stare, jogging his memory to a recent conversation they had carried.
“It’s okay now, darling,” said the maid, “now, tell us what’s happened. Did he hurt you? Do you need me to go down there and smack some sense into that young man?” Areli shook her head, but her eyes were still spewing out tears and her shoulders were trembling horribly. “Come on, let’s go, into the next room, darling.” Areli clung to the maid as they exited out of the hallway and into the drawing room. The servant followed behind, and all three sat in a sitting area overlooking a fireplace. “Now, are you going to tell us what happened? You know you can’t carry this all by yourself.” Areli looked at her, and then accepted the handkerchief offered by the servant. She then told them what had transpired beneath the floorboards with Talon.
The Column Racer Page 2