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I bark out a laugh and wave my hand as if purging the comment from the air. “Not arguing, just thinking about the Race and what he has up his sleeve for this year.”
The Race is meticulously designed each year. We tell the citizens of Ytopie that the Gods change the terrain and obstacles yearly.
But, the reality is a secret the Patricians would rather keep hidden.
With a sigh, I turn my back to the Lowlands, running my hands through my hair, a deep red like my mother’s, and massage my temples. With the disappearance of the sun on the horizon, the balcony becomes shrouded in darkness. Plume waves her hand at me to get my attention. “How about some light out here, sunshine?” I wrinkle my nose at her, but still snap my fingers, alighting flames on the sconces behind me.
Summer magic. When I first showed signs of it, my parents were thrilled. My mother was a Summer and my father an Autumn, and they were constantly arguing about whose magic I would manifest. I’m not ashamed to say I’m glad it was that of the God Solaris.
The magic of flame and light, of warmth and security. It is said to be the magic of great warriors, although it’s been a while since we’ve had to battle here in Ytopie. While we continuously learn new things about Summer magic, one of the most well-known uses is that those who wield it can sew spells of protection around themselves and their loved ones.
It fit my mother well. Nurturing and kind, she taught me to wield my flame for the good of our people and protected me from some of the more unsavory situations of my youth.
Picking up my glass again, I slip into a chair across from Plume and sigh deeply. “Once the sun rises, you know you can see bits of the Race perfectly from up here, right? Do we really need to go to the Palace?”
Laughing, she pushes my shoulder. “I’m not a Patrician, so I’m going to avoid viewing as much of the Race as I can. If you want to risk Mace’s wrath, have at it.”
I know I should be in the Palace, watching over the obstacles Racers will have to pass or defeat, carefully crafted by my fellow Patricians to make it harder to succeed. But truly, the hardest obstacle will be the other Racers.
Part of what I need to do will require me to be at the Palace, but for some of it, I am going to have to find a way to escape. I am trying not to rope Plume into the chaos that I have planned this year. But if she knew, I don’t think I would be able to keep her out of it. She always seems to sniff out my nefarious activities.
“I need to turn in. Busy day tomorrow,” I mumble, pushing back from the table and heading inside. Plume follows and wraps her arms around me from behind. “C’mon Plume, you’re too drunk to get home. Crash in the guest room.” She raises an eyebrow at me, a silent question I would prefer not to answer.
If I wanted to take her to my bed, I could. I pat her gently on the head and spin her toward the guest room.
Chapter 3
Viola
Ihaven’tfeltthisnervous about a Race since I was eleven. That was the first time I vividly remember my parents getting ready to Race. I would sit with the animals on scratchy hay and watch my mom and dad toss a small boulder to one another.
That year, when my parents went off to Race, I took off, slipping the group of nearly Ascension age children who looked after all the children that were left behind during the Race. I was just looking for a place to rest by myself and take a break from the grueling day-to-day life I lived. I grabbed the one book that did not feel like it related too much to the Race, “A Study of Seasons: Of the Major and Minor Magics.” This book had been passed down through the family for generations to prepare us for the magic we would encounter once we reached Ytopie. When I was small, I was fascinated with Spring magic.
“Can they really raise the dead?” I had asked my father the first time I read it.
“Well, yes, but only for a moment or two. Typically, it’s used to ask what someone died from or for their final wishes. Then they are gone, becoming one with the earth. The Bloomtide Goddess would not allow any more than that.”
My father, the smartest person I knew, did not fear the fae. He never wanted to be one and certainly never wanted magic, but he saw its value. “The Gods chose to bless the fae with their magic and not humans for a reason. Who am I to argue with them?”
Reaching the top of a small hill, I flopped down in the meadow and closed my eyes in the warm sun, resting the book over my face. I was surrounded by flowers that my father used to sneak me out to see under the guise of collecting botanicals to categorize and make tinctures out of.
“Flowers have no real use other than they bring us joy. And sometimes, it’s okay to have a little joy,” he’d say, picking a wildflower and smelling it.
We spent many cool evenings walking that meadow, and sometimes, on the way home, Father would take me to another alliance pod to meet the members. I asked him about it once, and he shrugged and said, “One day, your mother and I won’t be here. Our alliances don’t have to be yours. I want you to have opportunities we didn’t have.”
Looking back, I think he always knew I would be going at this on my own.
With the heavy book over my eyes, I had begun to drift to sleep. Before I could, I quietly prayed for my parents as they Raced and begged the Gods to stop this and rescue us from this life.
“You’re the only one that can rescue you, kid.”
I sat up so quickly the book fell onto my lap as my eyes jerked open. “Who’s there?” It took a minute to adjust to the sunlight, and a large shadow was in front of me when they did. I blinked rapidly, trying to get my eyes to focus. Eventually, I saw who it was.
Link, a boy around Max’s age from another alliance pod. At this point, he was still several years away from his Ascension year. I had seen him around the Lowlands, but people tend to only socialize in their pods. The children are more friendly with those from other pods, but Link and I were not friends. I had seen him running around with Max and hiding out in the woods but had not spent time with him one-on-one. Max had tried, insisting I would like Link, but I never had any interest in spending time with him.
“Who are you calling kid? You’re not much older than me, Link.”
“I’m old enough to have let go of the idea that someone will save me. I’m old enough to be ready to Race while you’re lying in the flowers wasting time.”
