As she put on her eyeliner, she hummed to herself—David Bowie’s “Major Tom.” A terrible dance remix of that song had always played in District 5, but suddenly the lyrics seemed much more meaningful to her.
What she wouldn’t give right now for a normal night. Cheap wine from the Crobar, loud music, maybe a greasy burger before a night bus home. Granted, her life before Kester burst into her kitchen had been pretty shit. Unemployed, single, and completely broke. But at least she hadn’t been surrounded by psychotic demons hell-bent on destroying her.
As she stood back to admire her reflection, a loud bang came from her door. Bael’s knock.
On her way to the door, she pulled on a black cloak, shoving her hand into her pocket to feel the reassuring smoothness of the silver ring. She pulled open the front door to find Bael standing in the gleaming sunlight in a fitted gray suit.
“Ursula.”
She crossed her arms. “There you are. I was beginning to wonder if you’d fallen into the chasm.”
“I had matters to attend to over the past few days.” He turned to cross the bridge, clearly expecting her to follow.
Outside, an icy breeze rippled over her skin. “So you weren’t avoiding me?”
“Why would I do that?”
They crossed into the atrium, and she shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just that you said you’d train me to ride, and then you disappeared into your man cave for days. Coincidentally, it was directly after I asked you a personal question.”
He turned to her just long enough to arch an eyebrow. “As I said, I had matters to attend to. And I understand Cera was able to train you. She tells me you’ve been improving remarkably well.”
In the narrow tunnel, her heels echoed off the ceiling. “Speaking of the race. Can you tell me why Cera made me a black suit for the competition?”
“I would imagine she thought it contrasted rather fetchingly with your fiery hair.”
“Is that another one of your jokes?” She nudged him with her elbow. “I meant, why did she mention it was important for me to blend into the dark sky? Why would I need to go unnoticed, if we’re only racing?”
Bael cleared his throat as they crossed into the cavern. “She should not have mentioned that.”
Hot anger ignited. “I knew you were hiding something from me!”
“We will discuss it over dinner.” He pointed to the narrow stone bridge. “I don’t want you losing your footing again as we cross the bridge. There are only so many times I can catch you mid-air.”
“Right,” she said through clenched teeth.
She trod carefully over the stone bridge, trying not to stare too deeply into the abysses on either side. If she lost this race, she’d find herself permanently trapped in the void, in complete isolation for the rest of eternity. Just the thought of it made her stomach tighten with dread.
She stared at Bael’s back as he gracefully crossed over the bridge, his movements fluid. At least one of us is going to end up in the void. A lump rose in her throat.
Bael crossed to a black marble table laid out with a domed platter and two glasses of wine. She pulled off her cloak, then took a seat across from him.
His gaze flitted over her neckline, and she heard the sharp intake of breath.
His brow creased. “I thought we’d talked about your dresses distracting me.”
“We did. I decided that I definitely do not care. Now will you tell me what’s going on with the race?”
Sighing, he pulled the lid off the platter, revealing a roast ham with glazed carrots on the sides. Her mouth watered. Apparently, Bael knew exactly how to distract her, too.
Greedily, she pulled two slices of ham onto her plate and cut into them.
“During the race, you must stay as close to me as possible.” He served himself a slice of ham.
“You said to follow you. I don’t really understand why. I can’t exactly beat you if I’m stuck behind you.”
“If you’re going to survive, you’ll need to stay near me.”
She stopped eating, her stomach clenching. “Why?”
“So no one slaughters you while you’re riding.”
She stared at him. “You told me it was just a race. You never said I needed to practice with a sword. This is a major disadvantage.”
“Learning to ride a bat is complicated enough. If we’d added a sword into the mix, you wouldn’t have survived the training.”
Her fingers tightened around her fork. “You didn’t even give me a chance,” she spluttered. “Tell me everything I need to know. Now. Don’t spare any more details.”
He sipped his wine. “Like I said, the race is around Asta’s spire. There are two groups. We start at the same place, but fly in opposite directions.”
“The groups pass each other at the opposite side of the spire?”
“Exactly. The goal is to make three passes between the points. Or we stop when twelve have died.”
“Three passes?”
He shrugged. “They’ve never gone further than two.”
Her mouth went dry. “What kind of weapons are used?”
“The same as the melee. Nothing ranged or magically enhanced. The best riders always win. A good rider can evade even those armed with lances.”