“We should get going,” he said to me, looking up at the twilit sky. “We don’t want to miss it.”
“Miss what?” I asked, already walking in the direction of the warehouse. “What’s happening?”
He fell in beside me, stuttering one step just so our strides would match. “There’s a contest down at the docks in a few minutes. I heard them announce it earlier. Something to do with flying. Whoever wins gets a special prize.”
“A prize?” I asked, immediately intrigued. “What is it? Will it help win the race?”
Rigel shrugged. “They didn’t say. I would bet that’s it, though. What else would they offer at the halfway point?”
“True,” I replied. I was suddenly tingling in my fingers and toes. My excitement had been stirred, and I was now intensely curious as to what kind of contest, and what kind of prize, might be waiting for me. Quickly, I turned and gave the Wall of the Fallen one last parting glance before it was out of sight. For a minute, or so, Rigel and I walked in silence, both of us hurrying our steps to make sure that we were there when the contest began. After a bit, however, I heard him clear his throat.
“So, I gotta ask,” he said, his voice light. “Did Toby happen to give you a…an envelope from me?”
I looked up at him in confusion, my face frowning. Just as I was about to say that he hadn’t, I suddenly remembered. “Yes!” I said loudly. The sudden memory had increased my volume, for some reason. “Yeah, he did give it to me before I left for Rainier.”
Rigel nodded. His expression was unfathomable, but I could tell that he was thinking something over. “Did you…maybe…read the letter in it?”
If I was honest, I hadn’t seen it since I left Rainier. It was somewhere in the Cloud Kicker, but I had totally forgotten about it until just now. Still, the way he had asked me made me sure that it was something he was hoping I had seen by now.
I opened my mouth to admit that I had forgotten it, but I couldn’t seem to get the words out. He was already feeling badly enough, I didn’t want to make him feel even worse. “Yeah,” I said, wishing I had taken the time to think of a better answer.
“You read it?” he asked, looking over at me with his eyebrows raised.
I nodded again. I was already in too deep. Nothing smarter than covering a lie with another lie, right? “Yeah, I did. I read it yesterday.”
We walked several more steps, but he didn’t take his eyes off me. It looked like he was trying to read my expression. “You read it…and?”
“And it was…really good to read,” I said, managing a smile. “Thank you for writing it for me.”
He slowly turned his head to face forward again without another word. I quickly glanced over at him, trying to gauge his reaction. He looked like he was deep in thought again. Had I given him the right answer? Or was it the wrong one? I couldn’t quite tell. Rigel once again took up the his finger tapping on his thighs, but we didn’t say anything else to one another for the rest of our walk.
“Oh, no,” I muttered as we emerged onto the docks. The crowd of onlookers from earlier in the day had returned. It was dark now, but the docks were well lit with tall, bright lights. Even so, many of the spectators held small candles in their hands as they murmured amongst each other. As Rigel and I approached, I began to feel the excited static in the air, the charge of anticipation that was pulsing through the crowd. My adrenaline was already on an upswing.
The spectators were roped off to keep them separate from the racers, but both groups seemed to just be standing around, waiting for something. I was glad to see this. It meant that we hadn’t missed the contest. I spotted the group of racers, probably fourteen in all, and made my way toward them. John and Grace were immediately recognizable, as was Audra and her stupid cape. I also recognized the man that Killian had referred to as “Thorn”. Toward the back, though, I spotted Darby and Killian, and we made our way to them.
“We didn’t miss it, did we?” I asked.
Darby turned around and smiled at me. “Hey. I was hoping you’d be here. Apparently, there’s gonna be a speech from the Archons before it starts.”
Rigel shifted uncomfortably next to me. “Hopefully not Merrick,” he groaned. Darby and Killian both gave him weird glances, but he didn’t elaborate. If he wasn’t telling, then I wouldn’t either.
“Any word on what the actual competition is?” I asked, changing the subject.
Killian shrugged. “Nothing that we’ve heard. Oh! Here come the Archons now!”
As soon as he spoke those words, the crowd around us broke out into applause, whistling and cheering loudly. I spun on my heel just in time to see the Archons strolling toward the docks, each of them carrying lit candles in their hands. It was just the three of them, as was the usual now, but out of habit I still looked for the fourth, Harrison Keene, when they were all together. It still seemed odd to see them all without him. With him and his son Garrett both gone, the group of them seemed so much smaller, less powerful.
Merrick Buchannon was waving extravagantly to the spectators, his wide smile firmly in place. Beside him, Beatrice Montgomery walked with her nose tilted into the air, letting the candlelight bounce playfully across the porcelain-perfect skin of her face. Her eyes were dark and stern, and didn’t share any of the mirth of Merrick’s. Ahead of them, Gideon Chambers - the Archon of Shiloh - and his son Jonah, marched regally toward the racers. Subtle smirks played at the corners of both of their mouths. They clearly loved being worshipped by the citizens.
The two of them were dressed smartly in thick, double-breasted frock coats and matching slacks. Gideon’s jacket had a black, fur-lined collar, and was colored a dark shade of red, while Jonah’s was a simple grey and black combination. They both wore their hair slicked back on their heads, too. Everything about them screamed money. It was ridiculous.
Merrick Buchannon was the same way. He wore a similar jacket and slacks combination, but he wore a long, wool overcoat on top of it. Aside from that, the high collar of his undershirt made his neck look twice as long as usual. Every time I had seen him, he had always been well-dressed, but I had never seen him looking as extravagant as tonight. Not even at the Wall of the Fallen memorials.
Beatrice, the only female Archon, was wearing a dress that would make just about any other woman jealous. I had never worn a dress in my life, but even I had to admire it. It looked black, at first. But in the firelight of the candles, I could see a purple, pearlescent sheen to the fabric. In the center was a corset, colored in deep purple, which cinched her waist several inches in. Her sleeves were made of thin black lace, covered in a velvety-looking floral pattern. She wore a collar made of the same stuff, but it was cut in a way that revealed her perfect, narrow shoulders. She also wore an ornate necklace of interwoven strands of dark beads. Looking at it made me want to yank on one of the strands…just to mess the whole thing up and make it ugly.
They took their sweet time getting to the contestants. Once they did, they began slowly making their way through us, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with the racers. It was obvious that they couldn’t care less about any of us, but they had to keep up appearances, I guess. Beatrice hadn’t gotten the memo, apparently. She greeted every person in front of her with a blank, bored expression on her face. At least she wasn’t going so far as to look disgusted. It must have been painful for her to be amongst such riff-raff. I was so busy disdaining her that I almost didn’t believe it when she stopped in front of me.
“Hello, young lady,” she said flatly. She was looking at my eyes, but I could definitely tell that she was looking through me.
“Good evening, Miss Montgomery,” I returned, matching her blank tone. She actually seemed slightly amused by this, and I saw her gaze focus on my face.
“Hm. What’s your name, child?” she asked. To my surprise, she seemed genuinely interested. It made me a little nervous. I thought about lying to her, but I couldn’t think of a fake name fast enough.
“Elana Silver,”
I told her. I didn’t bother being insulted by the fact that I had met her before the race began. I braced myself for the reaction, for the sudden outburst that had become synonymous with my name.
Her face remained unchanged, though. Her expression didn’t falter, her eyes didn’t bulge, and she didn’t even laugh or smile. She just nodded her head stiffly. “Ah, yes. That’s right. I believe I should have known that,” she replied. “You have a…look about you.”
She took a moment to scan me up and down, appraising me. As her eyes fell upon the Helios brooch pinned to my shoulder bag strap, any trace of amusement suddenly vanished from her face instantly. Within just a second, it was replaced by a mixture of what looked to be anger and…shock?
Quickly, she reached out and grasped the brooch between her dainty fingers. She was glaring down at it as though it had just grown a head and called her ugly. My insides turned cold, for some reason. I really didn’t like the way she was looking at it. As she slowly raised her eyes back up to mine, she took a small step toward me.
“Where did you get this?” she asked. Her voice was hushed, but sharp. The steel of her gaze was unnerving, and I was too taken aback to form a response. Luckily, Merrick Buchannon chose that moment to stomp his way over, wrapping an arm around each of us.
“Glad to see everyone getting acquainted,” he said merrily, giving me a pat on the shoulder. “I’m also glad to see you’ve made it this far, Elana,” he said, grinning his terrifying grin.
I took a moment to swallow my nerves and force a smile. “That makes two of us,” I joked.
Merrick laughed obnoxiously and pointed a bony finger at me. “I’ve got my eye on you,” he said. “A lot of people do. That’s quite a ship you’ve got.”
I nodded, still maintaining my fake smile. “Thank you.”
“Hopefully not as good as the Alpha Red,” Merrick said loudly, stepping over to Rigel. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Campbell?”
Behind me, I heard Rigel giving a hasty reply, but I was too focused on Beatrice Montgomery’s deep brown eyes. They bored into mine for what seemed like an hour before she finally stepped around me, giving my brooch one last glance before passing.
I didn’t even have time to process her odd behavior before the Chambers’ were upon me. I hadn’t been face to face with any of the Archons for three years, but even then, I didn’t remember feeling so small compared to them. Gideon, who was arguably the most influential of the Archons, had an aura of power that surrounded him. He seemed so strong and sturdy, despite the fact that he was a man in his fifties. Just seeing him step in front of me made me want to take a step back. His authority alone was very intimidating.
“Miss Silver,” he said, his low voice sounding as smooth as ever. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You, too,” I replied quickly. “Um…sir.”
He gave a polite smile, his cheeks stretching out his perfectly trimmed mustache. “I was fascinated to hear that you had…taken up the mantle…of your mother and father. I’m sure they would be very proud of you.”
I nodded, trying as hard as I could to make eye contact with him. “Thank you, sir,” I said to him, suddenly unsure of what to do with my hands. Still thinking of Beatrice, I reached up and wrapped one fist around the strap of my gas mask bag, strategically covering up the brooch. I’m not sure why, but I suddenly felt like I needed to hide it from the Archons.
Gideon gave me a slight bow of his head before moving on, which left me with just his son, Jonah.
“Well, well,” he said smugly, sauntering up to me. “So this is the Blood Racer everyone’s gabbing about. Aren’t much to look at, are you?”
This twerp exuded none of the regality and strength of his father. Instead, with his pursed lips and beady, narrowed eyes, he came off as an egomaniacal brat, one who was too used to getting his way.
“Speak for yourself,” I shot back at him, feeling my face contorting in anger.
His eyes widened slightly, and I saw his jaw muscles clench. For a moment, I though he was going to reach out and slap me. If we had been in private, there was no doubt in my mind that he would have. In front of so many witnesses, however, he had to keep a cooler head. Rather than trade insults with me, he turned and strode quickly past me, leaving me to catch my breath.
I waited a minute, long enough for the Archons to be out of earshot before I turned to Rigel and Darby. “Well, that was uncomfortable.”
“He was okay,” Rigel said, staring at the back of Merrick Buchannon. “But I definitely got a ‘don’t make me break your legs’ feel from him.”
“Broken legs would be getting off easy,” I told him.
Darby folded her arms. “I’ve never met an Archon before,” she said. “I thought it’d be…different.”
“As did I,” Killian added.
I sighed. “I miss Harrison Keene. He was always the nicest of them.” Indeed, at both memorials, he and his son were the only ones whose sad condolences to me had actually seemed real. I remember appreciating them both for it. “Think they’ll appoint someone to replace him?”
“I rather doubt it,” Killian said, his voice dark and cynical. “His son died in the same crash. There’s no heir. Furthermore, I can’t imagine that Merrick Buchannon would be willing to split the reign of his city again now that he’s finally got it back.”
I raised an eyebrow. Killian was definitely right. About everything. Rigel and I had often mused to one another about the possibility of Harrison Keene’s death being orchestrated. We never let the conversation slip outside the two of us, but we had definitely considered it.
As I refocused my attention, the three Dominion leaders - and Jonah - had passed through the racers, and were now huddled together in front of a small, elevated podium. Judging by the way they had their heads together, it looked like they were whispering to one another. Even with the other racers all standing in front of me, I swear I caught a glimpse of all four of them staring at me. Before I could get a better look, someone stepped in my line of sight, and I couldn’t get around them in time to see more. By the time I could see again, the Archons had separated, and Beatrice Montgomery was stepping up onto the podium. As soon as she was in place, a hush fell over the entire docks. Apparently, everyone was incredibly anxious to hear what she had to say.
“Congratulations,” she said loudly, gazing out at the group of racers. “Out of thirty two entrants to this year’s race, only fourteen of you remain. You are the true competitors, the dauntless, and the clever. You are to be commended for your perseverance. But the race is only half complete! And the ones who make it to the end will be the most fortunate. Any one of the stalwart few that stand before me…could be standing at the finish line soon, at the velvet podium itself. To win, you’ll need skill, you’ll need to keep your wits, and you must take advantage of every opportunity you can…which brings us to tonight’s contest.”
From behind the podium, two stocky men - dockworkers, by the look of them - hoisted up and carried out an odd looking machine. The bulk of it was a roundish ball of canvas, which was held together by some loose stitching. Judging from the way it shifted and jiggled, it was filled with some sort of liquid. The canvas ball sat inside a flimsy metal frame, which was topped with a small propeller. The metal rigging was complete with a miniature hydro tank, and what looked to be a tiny thruster. All in all, the whole thing was about three feet by three feet, the size of a standard shipping crate, and as the two men set it on the ground in front of the racers, the canvas sack began to glow brightly, drawing gasps and murmurs from the audience behind us.
“This pontoon is filled with phosphorescent paint,” Beatrice began again, still as loud as ever. “It will help you to see it in the night sky, and it will also assist us in identifying the victor. This makeshift copter will fly the skies, here at our docks, and the contestants will try to catch it.”
From toward the front of our group, a middle-aged man I didn’t know raised his hand. “How are we supposed to catch th
at thing?” he asked skeptically.
“A collision,” Beatrice announced curtly. “A direct impact with your airship will allow the paint to color your hull, and prove you the winner. The metal frame is designed to break apart, your ships will sustain no damage, and the paint will wash off in the first rain you see. Our experts even tell us that there’s to be a storm tomorrow, so there is nothing for you to worry about.”
In front of me, it was Grace Buchannon’s turn to speak up. “So we’re supposed to chase that thing down…all at the same time?”
“Correct,” Beatrice said, putting on a smile that, I’m sure, was very unpleasant for her.
Darby raised her hand next. “Won’t that be dangerous?”
Beatrice’s cold eyes flitted over to her. “Extremely,” she said sternly. “Make no mistake, all of you, the challenge is not mandatory. You compete of your own volition…and at your own risk.”
There was a low tone of muttering that swept through the group of racers. They were having the same doubts that I was. Cramming fourteen ships into what essentially was an enormous dogfight…was insanity. Why would any of us risk our lives like that?
Beatrice, however, noticed the disquiet amongst us, and cleared her throat once more. “The prize for winning,” she called out, “is an item created by our resident master craftsman, Dan Canter, as well as a fifteen minute head start to begin the second half of the race.”
At this, the muttering returned. But this time, it was excitement crackling through us. Even the crowd behind us knew what a great prize that was. The Archons were smart. They knew that they’d get a lot more participants if they dangled something so sweet in front of us. It had worked on me. I had been hesitant before, but now there was no doubt. I was definitely going to enter this challenge. A fifteen minute head start? That would be excellent for getting ahead of Audra.
The Blood Racer (The Blood Racer Trilogy Book 1) Page 19