Muffled voices echoed through Kel’s comm. She wasn’t surprised that the forest’s density messed with the signal. She wondered if her helmet’s camera was distorted too, or if they could see what she saw: a blockade of ancient trees across the track. That must have been what the phoenix had collided with.
Kel quickly guided Savita to land in front of the pile of trees. Four other phoenixes and their riders did the same, while the injured phoenix and its rider stayed back. Three riders unbuckled themselves and dismounted to get closer to the strange barrier. The treeshadn’t been fully cut down, only enough for them to tilt toward each other, blocking the path while still as tall as the rest of the forest. The silver railing wilted down toward the ground, crushed beneath fallen logs.
Kel swapped a bewildered look with the nearest rider. Had CAPR done this, as an obstacle? There was no way around the great wall of trees. Not unless they flew overhead—but the trees were crowded together tightly enough that it would be near-impossible for Savita to break through the foliage.
They were trapped.
Kel squinted through the shadows around them. The trees had been intentionally hacked; sharp grooves cut into dozens of them. Were they meant to just turn back, or find a way around?
The other riders posed her questions aloud, swapping frustrated shouts and curses as movement flashed through the dim forestry. Kel led Sav to the edge of the cleared path, tilting her head toward the movement she’d seen.
Red and orange flashed through the darkness and melted into a strange sunrise. She’d never seen such vivid colors, even when Savita’s temperature climbed.
Savita flailed her wings, and Kel was wrenched back, her tailbone hitting the saddle cantle. The skin on her thighs stretched taut and she bit down on a whimper.
“Quiet,” Kel hissed at the other riders.
“What? Did you find something?” a rider asked, nudging their phoenix closer.
Kel raised a trembling hand, silently begging them to stay quiet. They must have understood. A moment later, the clearing fell into a hush.
The only sounds came from around them. Low, grumbling murmurs and claws against stone. The colors moved closer, looming taller.
To the left of the barricade, a dawn of uncollared, wild phoenixes approached the clearing.
THIRTY-FOUR
Kel sucked in a short, silent breath. At least four wild phoenixes moved toward the clearing, clicking their beaks, twitching their heads in agitation.
Slowly, Kel tugged Savita back, into the center of the clearing. The three riders on the ground stayed frozen, eyes wide and distorted beneath their goggles.
The wild phoenixes prowled through the dense trees easier than they should have. They wove into the clearing and took sharper forms, flames turning to feathers and screeches to thunder.
Fear pounded in Kel’s ears, blocking out the static of her broken comms. One flicker of annoyance and these wild phoenixes—uncollared, unfettered—could devastate the entire clearing.
The five riders stayed immobile, helpless, as the wild phoenixes moved toward them. Kel’s heart jumped into her throat. Had CAPR planned this? Had she let Cristo sentence her to death in these woods?
Heat surged behind her. Slowly, dread shaking her arms, she twisted in the saddle.
At her back, along the path they’d all raced, another three wild phoenixes loomed closer. They encircled the clearing with easy, graceful steps, their blazes slowly stripping back. Ignoring the hair prickling the back of her neck, Kel pressed a soothing hand to Savita’s side, silently begging her phoenix to stay still. Savita was bristling; tiny sparks danced along the edges of her paler feathers.
She could feel her phoenix’s legs tensing, feel her heat climbing, ready to pounce forward.
Sav, please, no.
Kel had never prayed to the Alchemists or the Serpent King before, but now seemed like a good time to start.
Taller flames danced along Sav’s back, though she stayed still as the wild phoenixes crept closer.
Rich yellows and reds danced through the darkness, like a bleeding sun. Their flames mirrored their steps, growing when they snapped and shrinking when they stopped. Though terrifying, these beasts were in total control of their own magic.
Ice shivered down Kel’s spine. Even if she didn’t believe in CAPR rules and collar restrictions, Kel hadneverquestioned one thing: wild phoenixes were dangerous, out of control. Their unregulated power would destroy humans and phoenixes alike. Collaring—to some degree—was for the phoenixes’ safety as much as everyone else’s.
Alchemists.She’d been so wrong. About so many things.
“We don’t have long before other racers get here,” Kel murmured.If other wild phoenixes hadn’t already taken them out.“We can either hope they let us pass, or try to clear the blockade.”
The other riders muttered at her sides. A moment later, they allreached a silent, fearful agreement: the blockade might be difficult to move, but the wild phoenixes were impossible to survive.
