by F. C. Shaw
“My father was a very skilled alchemist, and he knew many secrets. He was always either in high demand or in danger.” Zinnia sighed. “I need him back.”
Dodie brightened with understanding. “That’s why you’re racing. To wish for your father’s return. But you can’t wish for him to come back to life if he’s . . .”
“I know the genie’s rules!” snapped Zinnia. “But he’s not dead. He’s too valuable alive.”
Dodie was quiet.
Zinnia’s face softened. “I’m sorry about Taj, really. Losing family is the worst—especially when it’s all you’ve got. Too bad the prize isn’t two wishes so I could give you one to use when I win.”
Dodie was surprised by this thought of generosity on her part, even though it could never happen. An awkward silence filled the air between them.
“Listen,” Dodie spoke up. “One of us has got to win—no one else. We’ve got the best reasons to win that wish and treasure. I say we help each other out against the other competition—especially against Atallah and Nye.”
“No argument there,” snorted Zinnia.
“Then tomorrow when it comes down to us,” Dodie swallowed, “may the best man win. Waddaya say?”
“Deal.” Zinnia stuck out her hand.
Dodie gripped it, liking how small it was, yet it felt just as rough as his from gripping the braided loops on her carpet.
Zinnia dug in her waist pouch and tossed him the tiny jar of ointment. “Your face needs more.”
Dodie caught the ointment and dabbed his wounds with it. “Feels much better, thanks.” He dabbed a bit more on his chest where his good luck charm had seared him during the ghoul’s attack.
“What’s that you’re carrying?” Zinnia pointed to the charm.
Dodie pulled it out from under his tunic and held it up by its thread. “A good luck charm. Taj bought it for me.” He slipped it back under his tunic, and added quickly, “I don’t really believe in it.”
“But it’s like having a little piece of your brother with you,” Zinnia said softly.
Dodie gave a small smile, then tossed the ointment back to her. “This ointment is one of your father’s secrets, right?”
Zinnia nodded as she stowed the jar back in her pouch. “Have you thought any more about who poisoned Taj?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about Nye,” Dodie shrugged. “I know Nye poisoned Axel. He must’ve destroyed the bottle so it couldn’t be traced to him. He was at the Magistrate’s Banquet, too.”
Zinnia raked her fingers through her short black hair. “There’s always Atallah.”
“Why, because he’s such a jerk?”
“He seems to really hate your guts and look down on your family.”
Dodie wasn’t going to tell her about his family’s debt to Lord Hadi, and the wager Gamal had made with him—both of which were good motives for Hadi to poison Taj. He’d considered Atallah, but wondered where he could have gotten Devil’s Kiss from if it was as rare as Raz claimed. Yet Atallah was rich and could probably afford to go to great lengths to buy it from another alchemist. Or maybe he paid Raz to acquire it for him. After all, he would need an alchemist’s input on which deadly poison to use. Quite convenient that he chose a poison with an equally hard-to-get antidote. Dodie yawned, starting to feel very comfortable in the cool cave.
Furthermore, Dodie was still shocked that Raz was sponsoring Atallah. Binni was his best friend, and his father and Raz had been friends for years. He couldn’t believe Raz didn’t sponsor Taj! Why didn’t he?
Dodie remembered what Binni had told him at the Magistrate’s Banquet: Raz knew something about Taj that made him go with Atallah.
Dodie kicked off his sandals.
He knew something . . .
Like maybe a prophecy! Very likely, especially since Raz and Atallah had been waiting outside the Seer’s tent and could have overheard the prophecy—she was so darn loud.
Then he shook his head. No, Raz wouldn’t try to kill Taj, but maybe Raz knew someone else, like Atallah, was going to take out Taj because of the prophecy, so he didn’t sponsor Taj. He knew Taj would never race. Dodie made a mental note to ask Raz if anyone came to him seeking Devil’s Kiss, or if he knew about anyone’s plan to kill off Taj.
“Do you think the sand storm caught up to Nye and Atallah?” Zinnia’s voice broke through his thoughts.
Dodie snapped his eyes back to her. “I sure hope so. I wouldn’t mind if it finished them off, too. Atallah’s convinced he’s better than anyone else and has every girl in Turah pining for him because of his blue eyes.”
Zinnia smirked. “I never noticed his eyes because he’s so arrogant.”
Dodie wanted to ask if she had anyone she was pining for back in Alsta, but he didn’t think he could bear it if her answer was yes. Not now anyway. He guessed there had to be someone pining for her since she was pretty and smart and brave, but for now he didn’t want to know.
“Hey, I think the storm is passing,” he said as he looked out the opening. The sand was thinning so he could see the canyon outside.
“You’re right.” Zinnia crawled on her hands and knees and popped her head out. “We better get going.”
They both mounted their carpets, pulled their head masks back on, and folded into the prostrate position. Dodie took the lead and sailed out of the cave, Zinnia right behind him. Behind them a few racers emerged from other caves bearing Qs. Dodie wondered how many had survived the storm.
“We better get a move on,” urged Dodie. “You wanna go first this time?”
“Thanks.” Zinnia moved in front of him. “Keep up.”
Dodie laughed. “I’ll try.”
They took off before the other racers could get in front of them. A few yards up they passed one racer stranded on a boulder, his carpet nowhere in sight. He shook a fist up at them. They came up to Bae who had survived the storm. Blood seeped through his head mask and he was flying in a wobbly way. As they rode his tail, he turned back to them.
“Go ahead and pass me,” he said weakly. “I’ve gotta take it easy for a while. That storm almost finished me off.”
“Sorry,” said Dodie, and he meant it. He followed Zinnia over Bae’s injured head.
“Dodie, look ahead!” said Zinnia.
Dodie craned his neck to look around her. A few yards ahead of them he saw Atallah and Nye flying close together.
“They must’ve gotten slowed down by the storm,” Zinnia said excitedly. “Let’s see if we can get close enough to eavesdrop.”
They sailed up behind the two racers. Atallah was in the lead, flying casually, as Nye trailed him, not making any move to pass.
“I’m telling you,” Atallah’s bawdy voice rang off the rocks, “he couldn’t fly a foot and now he’s racing. Something’s up.”
“Maybe he’s taking a tonic,” suggested Nye in his deep voice. “Alchemists can come up with anything.”
“Believe me, I know what alchemists are capable of,” Atallah said darkly.
“There’s something going on with him and Zin,” grunted Nye. “They said Zin’s from my village, but I’d don’t think I know him. If he’d just take his mask off, maybe I could tell who he is!”
Zinnia smiled in satisfaction upon hearing this.
“Yeah, why won’t he take off his mask?” Atallah wondered. “Something’s up with him, too. I’m gonna get to the bottom of all this.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and someone will poison them both,” said Nye in an amused voice.
Atallah chortled. “Yeah, maybe someone will.”
“Like you?” Dodie couldn’t help hollering, his voice echoing off the high canyon walls.
Without looking back, Atallah called, “You survived, huh? You’re cheating somehow. No one with no flying experience could possibly survive as long as you have.”
“There aren’t too many ways to cheat in this race,” Dodie reminded him. “There aren’t that many rules. Anything goes.”
Atallah snorted. “You’re right, anything goes. Right, Nye?”
“Right.”
Atallah reached behind him and grabbed one of Nye’s front tassels. Nye scooted completely around so he was riding backwards and facing Zinnia. Then he reached into his waist pouch, and chucked something tiny at Zinnia. It was too small to duck from. There was a loud snap-crack, then a small spark landed on Zinnia’s arm and ignited. She shrieked and hastily patted her arm to put out the little flame. Nye eyed her suspiciously, obviously surprised by her girlish squeal. His wrist flicked at her again.
Snap-crack!
The spark landed on her carpet and caught her front tassel. She scrambled to put it out.
Nye chucked one over Zinnia’s head at Dodie, but his aim was off and the spark extinguished on a passing boulder.
“Pull back!” Dodie yelled to Zinnia.
They both slowed, and watched Atallah and Nye zoom off amidst howls of laughter.
“What was that?” Zinnia gasped. “I thought magic carpets are fire-proof. The dragons couldn’t burn us.”
“They are,” confirmed Dodie, “except against fire with magical properties. Nye definitely has a connection with an alchemist—a very powerful one. We better hang back.”
“I guess it’s better to be safe than first at checkpoint tonight,” grumbled Zinnia.
They kept a few yards between themselves and Atallah and Nye.
The sun was no longer visible in the sky, for it was lowering in the west. The clouds had cleared, and the wind had died down. The towering canyon walls shaded them, and blocked their view of the sun in the west, but they were able to tell by the purple hue of the sky that sunset was starting. Soon the Pass widened and they could see the end a few miles in the distance. Atallah and Nye were far ahead, racing neck in neck to the checkpoint. Dodie rode beside Zinnia, keeping an eye on the other racers behind him.
Suddenly, Dodie felt queasy. He felt himself swaying, even though Phoenix was flying steady. There wasn’t much in his stomach, but he wanted to throw up. He made the mistake of looking down, and his eyes crossed. He was still a ways from the checkpoint, and knew it was only a matter of minutes before Binni’s potion had completely worn off.
“You okay?” Zinnia asked beside him.
“No,” Dodie croaked. “Potion’s run out.”
“Take some more.”
“I . . . can’t . . .” Dodie groaned, closing his eyes for a minute, but that seemed to make him sicker. “I’ve got one more dose . . . for tomorrow.”
“Get your mind off it,” Zinnia told him. “Come closer.” She reached out her hand and grabbed Phoenix’s front tassel. “I’ve got you. Breathe and try to relax. Push past your fear.”
Dodie put his head down on his carpet and inhaled and exhaled deeply and slowly. That was helping.
“Fix your eyes on something constant,” Zinnia instructed.
Dodie turned his head and locked his eyes on her. Everything around him went out of focus as he kept his gaze on her. His stomach settled down. He pulled off his head mask, and felt the refreshing evening breeze. His hands stopped shaking.
“You’re great at flying,” said Zinnia, keeping her eyes ahead. “I think you could overcome your fear with some time.”
“I’ve actually been enjoying it,” Dodie admitted. “The Seer said someday I will overcome my fear—but I don’t believe her. She also said Taj would be victorious.”
“We’re almost there—don’t look ahead!” Zinnia warned when she noticed Dodie start to turn his head. “Keep your eyes on me!”
Dodie did as he was told, though he didn’t need much persuasion. He kept breathing in and out, in and out, and kept staring at her.
Suddenly, they dropped and stopped. He lay a minute on his carpet and watched Zinnia dismount. Slowly, he lifted his head and saw the checkpoint before him and Quillian’s Pass behind. In the west, the sun dipped below the horizon.
“Thanks,” he told her. “I wouldn’t have made it.”
Zinnia smiled with her eyes. “We’re in this together, right?”
Dodie smiled weakly and didn’t know what to say.
Chapter 11
The checkpoint was a little oasis of palm trees clumped around a shallow pool of rainwater. A large bonfire lit the oasis, and one small yurt housed the five officials and provisions. By now, only six of the original twenty-five racers had made it: Dodie and Zinnia, Atallah and Nye, and Randi and Bae. Everyone else had either been lost in the sandstorm or had arrived at the checkpoint after sunset and been disqualified. A part of Dodie couldn’t believe he was still in the running, and another part of him chided himself for doubting he could win this race. After all, he had no choice—he had to win this Grand Flyer.
The racers gathered around the bonfire, kicked off their sandals, pulled off their head masks, and hungrily devoured the baskets of chicken, pita bread, hummus, and dates. Of course Zinnia kept her mask on and sneaked bites behind it, despite Atallah’s glares of suspicion. Dodie kept his eye on Atallah and Nye sitting across the bonfire from him and braced himself for a confrontation. His face was feeling better, but the thought of taking more swings made him cringe. Still, he was determined to protect Zinnia’s secret.
The officials summoned Atallah for an interview with the Wishing Well since he had come in first to the checkpoint. Atallah strutted off.
After dinner, Dodie laid down, resting his head on his rolled up carpet, and felt very satisfied and sleepy. He gazed up at the sprinkle of stars winking between the palm fronds, and felt heavy drowsiness overtaking him. If he could just rest his eyes for a minute . . . he was so tired . . .
He heard a shuffle beside him and jolted awake. Zinnia plopped down on the sand.
“You falling asleep?” she asked quietly. “We won’t get much tonight. Our last day starts at midnight.”
“Midnight! I thought we always take off at dawn.” Dodie propped himself up on his elbows to look at her.
Zinnia shook her head. “As if this race isn’t hard enough, they gotta throw in racing in the dark.”
“How do we stay on the course?” asked Dodie, his voice tight with panic. “How do we know which direction to fly without the sun?”
“Well, you can use your compass,” Zinnia said with a patronizing look.
Dodie felt his cheeks turn red. “Oh, yeah, right.”
“But it will be trickier,” added Zinnia quickly. “And more dangerous. Especially with those two.” She nodded toward Atallah and Nye who had their heads together in a hushed conversation. “We gotta stick together.”
Dodie sat up and pulled out the race course map. By the firelight he saw the first leg of the race would be across a barren desert called the Phantom Plains, then the last leg to the Capital would be along the Siren Sea. He was excited about that part, for he had never seen the ocean.
Zinnia stood up. “I’m gonna get some water.” She trudged over to the shallow pool by the yurt.
Hastily, Dodie fished out his grandfather’s secret map and took a look. There was one note for the Phantom Plains (Two are better than one), but the coastal trek had two warnings: heed not the siren’s song, and hands off anything that shines. As always, they didn’t make much sense, but Dodie knew they would when he was in the moment of needing them.
“Why do you have two maps?” asked Zinnia as she returned.
Dodie started. “Oh, uh, just an extra race map.”
Zinnia sat down next to him and leaned over to look at it. “So that’s how you knew about those caves in the canyon.”
“Do you think this is cheating?” he held up his grandfather’s map.
Zinnia shrugged. “There are no rules. Can I see it?”
Dodie hesit
ated slightly, then handed it over.
Zinnia scooted closer to the firelight to study it.
“What’ve you got there?” called Atallah from the other side of the bonfire.
Dodie panicked. “I thought you were asleep.”
“Never underestimate your opponent.” Atallah stood up and started for them.
Dodie snatched the map from Zinnia and started stuffing it into his waist pouch, but Atallah was on him quicker than he expected. The two boys hit the sand, toppling over each other as one tried to steal the map and the other tried to protect it.
R-i-i-i-p-p!
“No!” cried Dodie as he broke away from Atallah, half the map in his fist.
Atallah stood panting, the other half of the map in his fist. Without even looking at it, he tossed it into the fire.
“What’s wrong with you?!” screamed Dodie, smoke from the burning map stinging his eyes. “You’re such a rat!”
“You’re such a fraud!” Atallah shot back. “You gotta be put in your place—which should be no place at all in this race. I knew you couldn’t be doing this on your own. Now you’ll have to.” He nodded at the charred remains of the map in the flames. “Go home to the rats.” He returned to the other side of the bonfire.
Dodie plopped down next to Zinnia.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, lightly touching her shoulder to his.
“My grandfather gave me this map. It was his.” He fingered the scrap of dusty paper, then hid it away in his waist pouch. “I’ll take the first watch. Get some sleep.”
“You sure?” When he didn’t answer, she lay down on her side facing him.
Dodie could feel her eyes on him as he stared into the blazing flames. A log snapped and he watched the sparks waft up to the sky. He wanted to talk with her—about what he didn’t know—but she needed to sleep. As Zinnia drifted off, Dodie’s thoughts drifted away.
He thought about her, wondering why he was so drawn to her. Maybe it was their mutual empathy for each other, having both lost their mothers and now both losing another dear family member—Taj and her father. Or maybe it was their desperation to win the Grand Flyer to save someone they loved. Dodie realized they had a lot in common, including the same fierce courage that prompted them both to enter a race they had no right to be in.