The Blood Racer (The Blood Racer Trilogy Book 1) (6 page)

              I scoffed. “Well, I guess there’s worse reputations to have.”
              Killian flicked the lighter and held it to the end of the pipe, breathing deeply as smoke began to trail from the corners of his mouth. “There most certainly are,” he said, exhaling slowly. “Try living in a place that the wealthy look upon as den of thieves, tramps, and beggars.”
              As we strolled through the narrow, rusting alleyways of the Gap, I gave a small sarcastic laugh. “I thought I already did.”
              He chuckled. “Your town does have many similarities to Ravencog,” he commented, swiveling his head around to take in the sights. “Cobbled buildings, streets, shops…constructed as only temporary, but somehow lasting for decades.”
              I laughed for real this time. “Yeah, that about sums it up. Space is sort of limited here, so people just kind of…”
              “Build atop one another,” he finished, smiling with his pipe clamped in his teeth.
              I nodded. “Yep.”
              The two of us weaved our way toward the docks, slipping past excited citizens, trying to avoid being drawn into conversation. I thought Killian was all right, but it was clear that he was a bit odd compared to the citizens of Adams, and even here, people could sometimes be just as intolerant as the wealthy snobs from Rainier. He was already attracting more than a few strange glances. He was friendly, though, and pretended to ignore it, which was a good thing.
              “Do you know a man by the name of Sparks?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. It was also an attempt to make him feel less awkward about the stares.
              Killian pursed his lips and scratched his bearded chin. “Sparks,” he repeated. “I see him now and then, yes. Never for very long. He does a lot of traveling, I believe. I see more of his brother.”
              My eyebrows raised up immediately. “Sparks has a brother?” I asked. I had no idea why this information seemed so odd. How many people in the world had brothers? Almost everyone probably. For some reason, this news was surprising to me. I guess it was the fact that I’d known Sparks for a while and had never learned it before now. It would be like suddenly finding out that Old Man Nichols had a brother, or Rigel, and I knew everything there was to know about that boy.             
            “You have dealings with him?” Killian asked, looking over at me past the smoking end of his pipe.
              I blinked away my train of thought. “Hm? Oh, Sparks? Yeah, he comes into the shop that I work in. My boss does business with him, I guess.”
              Killian nodded. “Ah, I see.”
              As our conversation had momentarily run dry, it was lucky that we came upon the docks at that moment. I was surprised to see so much activity going on. Ships were docking and leaving with the frequency of a wealthy town’s port. Most of them were unrecognizable to me. These must have been all the contestants and spectators that had come to partake in the start-of-the-race festivities. The Gap would see its fair share of strangers like Killian over the next two days. The shop owners would be happy, of course. It was just about the only time when Adams got outsider traffic.
            My first thought was how badly I felt for Rigel. Cradle eleven wasn’t moving, but he had surely been triaged to deal with the sudden horde of travelers. The next couple of days would be rough on him. Maybe I could get Zanna to whip up the tomato soup that he loved to buy from her. If he was too tired to argue, he might even accept it for free. 
              “There she is!” Killian exclaimed merrily, pointing down the docks toward cradle eight. In the midst of the bustle, I couldn’t see exactly who he was pointing to. “You should meet her,” he said to me. “She flies the
Foxfire.
I think the two of you would get along famously.”
             
Doubt that
, I thought silently. There weren’t many people I truly got along with. I was always relatively friendly and personable when passing townsfolk, but people apparently still viewed me as “crabby and bitter”, according to Rigel.
              I wasn’t surprised, but I didn’t exactly enjoy being seen that way.
              As we descended into the chaos by the docks, Killian no longer drew any strange glares. Half the people here were just as foreign as he was, and the locals seemed to be welcoming them. Mr. Wilkerson was strolling through the visitors with a large basket slung over his neck. In the basket, which hung down in front of his waist, was filled with breads and pastries, all of which he was selling to the tourists and citizens alike.
              Margery Greer was also walking the length of the docks, showing off her glass figurines and other knickknacks, Joe Pipkin was peddling his rock sugar candy, shaped like skulls and pumpkins, and I wondered if I’d see Zanna here somewhere, selling her vegetable dishes and soups. If she wasn’t, I made a mental note that I’d mention it to her. We could always use the extra tokens.
              Finally, after making our way past a couple of street vendors, from which Killian bought a wooden noisemaker, we ended up at cradle eight, and I came face to face with his friend Darby.
              “Hi there,” she said happily, turning to me.
              I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop my eyes from bulging wide. Instead of returning her greeting, I stared, dumbfounded, at the menacing falcon that was perched on her left shoulder. The bird wore a leather helmet that was similar to mine, and the eyes of the helmet were darkened, probably to prevent the falcon from being disturbed by all the people walking around around. The rich color of it matched the bird’s dark feathers quite well.
              Darby quickly noticed me noticing the raptor – not that it was difficult to see – and she gave a lighthearted laugh at my expression. “Oh, don’t worry. That’s just Georgie. She’s much friendlier than she looks.”
              “I hope so,” I muttered, still gawking at the falcon. I had seen what they were capable plenty of times. 
              Killian sidled up beside me, patting Darby on her falcon-free arm. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” he told her before turning to me. “This is Elana Silver. I met her at a shop nearby. She’s a local. She’s very nice.”
              Darby turned to me and cocked her head to the side, seeming very birdlike. “Elana Silver…” she muttered. “Why does that sound familiar?”
              “I thought that same thing!” Killian exclaimed. “Elana, this is my friend, Darby Quinn. She and I are both entering the race tomorrow.”
              Grinning widely, she stuck out her hand and I shook it, unable to fend off her enthusiasm. “You live here?” she asked. “In Adams?”
              I nodded, peering around at the busy docks. “I do. It’s strange to see it so crowded.”
              Darby shrugged, making Georgie the falcon bob a few inches into the air. “I’m used to crowded, I guess. It’s not so bad. Hey, I like your slacks!”
              Momentarily thrown by her sudden change in topic, I looked down at my pinstriped pants. “Oh…thanks. I really like your…” I took a moment to look her over and spotted a small hourglass pendant hanging from her neck, “necklace.” It wasn’t a lie, either. I thought it was genuinely nice.
              Grinning, Darby grasped the hourglass and inspected it. “Thank you! It’s very, very old. It was made by someone name LeJeune.”
              I hadn’t heard the name before, but my attention was focused elsewhere. Her outfit was just a strange as Killian’s, but in an interesting way. Around her neck, she wore a dark brown, ruffled lace collar, something that belonged inside a wealthy woman’s dress. Her shirt appeared almost golden, which matched the collar well, and it puffed up around her shoulders. Below that, though, she wore a brass-colored corset, cinching tightly over the shirt and accenting the curve of her hips. Her belt, which was a dark leather, held a few pouches and two large silver buttons that her suspenders were attached to.
              Her legs were covered in skintight black leggings that were so thin I could see her skin through them. Over them, she wore a short pair of brown cutoff slacks, which – at best – reached to the middle of her thighs. Her leather boots were huge and clunky, covered in buckles, and looked to be about two sizes too big for her.
              Killian was right. I liked her immediately.
              Pulling the oversized goggles off her head, Darby shook out her short, reddish hair and slapped Killian on the arm. “Did you get your tobacco?”
              He nodded. “I did, indeed. It was an excellent price, too. I think I’d also like a sweet roll from that fellow over there.” He nodded toward Mr. Wilkerson before turning back to Darby and I. “Would either of you like anything?”
              Darby stuck out her hip and cupped her narrow chin with one hand. “Hmm…yeah, I think I’d like some cookies, if he has them. Jam tarts!” she said excitedly.
              Killian nodded and began weaving his way through the crowd.
              “Good choice,” I said, watching him go. “Jam tarts are the best. Not too expensive, either.”
              “I know, I love them!” Darby said with a laugh. “So, Elana…I have to ask…what do you think of Killian?”
              I raised an eyebrow, opening my mouth slowly. “Uh – I…well, he’s fine, really. I mean, I guess he’s a little…”
              “Weird!?” she exclaimed, grinning widely.
              I couldn’t help but let out a sudden burst of laughter, mostly out of relief that she wasn’t mad at me for thinking that way. “I, uh…I didn’t want to just come out and say it,” I replied, still smiling stupidly.
              Darby waved her hand. “Ah, don’t worry. I think that’s why I like hanging around him, though. Weird is more fun.”
              I looked over at Georgie the falcon, still sitting serenely on her shoulder. “Yeah, it has its…charms.”
              “So, are you going to be entering the race?” she asked. “It’s easy to see that you’re a pilot.”
              I shook my head, feeling my smile melt away. “No, I – I won’t. I don’t really like the race,” I said, unsure of why I was being so forward. “Actually, I’m surprised you’re entering with your friend. I wouldn’t be too happy about having to compete against someone I cared about.”
              She nodded. “I understand. Killian and I aren’t competing against each other, though. We both just want to see how well we can do. We would love to win, of course, but we’re not going to do anything to jeopardize each other.”
              I shrugged. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. The race changes people. Contestants kill each other just to give themselves a better chance. It turns men into animals.”
              Darby’s eyebrows and forehead wrinkled slightly at my words. She looked almost hurt by them. “I don’t believe that,” she said softly. “I don’t think people could lose that much of themselves in just a couple days.”
              “What if it was down to you two?” I asked her, suddenly feeling compelled to make her see my point of view. “What if he was in the lead and you were right behind him, and the finish line was just a minute away? You’re saying you wouldn’t give him a little tap on the tail? You wouldn’t roll underneath him and take the wind out of his wings?”
              “Of course not!” Darby said, looking insulted. “I would be happy for him. He deserves to win just as much as anyone. Probably more than some.”
              “All right,” I said. “What if it was the other way around? What if you were in the lead with him right behind you? Would you trust him not to put you into a spin? You think he’d just let you win?”
              Darby shook her head, smiling confidently. “Of course I’d trust him. He’s my friend. That’s worth more than any prize money.”
              She was unwaveringly optimistic, almost to the point of naivety, but I couldn’t help but smile back at her. Despite the fact that she completely disagreed with me, I was glad. I think I would have felt bad if I’d ended up making her doubt her friend.
              Before I could respond to her, a harsh, feminine voice sounded from behind me. “It’s that kind of weak-minded idiocy that gets so many of you fools killed every race.”
              To my left, a woman emerged from the crowd. Darby and I both turned to look, and I felt my eyes widen ever so slightly. She was tall and slender, but she looked quite powerful, despite her build. Just like most of the people on the docks today, she was a stranger to the Gap. Unlike the other newcomers, though, I recognized her immediately.
            Her hair was jet black, which matched her dark eyes well, and it was pulled back into a loose ponytail. A pair of sleek, brand new goggles rested on top of her head, and they looked to be accented with several tiny jewels. She wore a low-cut hemp shirt, and had some sort of leather shoulder holster wrapped around her. The bottom of it circled tightly around her ribcage, and the top buckled around her throat like a choker necklace. Being that there was no gun attached to the holster, it seemed the entire purpose of the thing was to accent her bust line. The fact that her shirt wasn’t even long enough to cover her midriff only confirmed my suspicions. The leggings and shiny, thigh-high leather boots made it obvious: this woman loved attention.
             As if that weren’t enough, she was wearing a red cape, made out of some kind of fabric that looked very soft to the touch. There was some writing on the back of it, but I was more focused on the brooch she used to hold it together around her collar. It had the inverted triangular Dominion logo, but it had “Shiloh” stamped underneath it. It looked a lot like the one I’d just received from Alice, which meant that I was right. It had come from a city.