Ms Maladicta smiled. ‘I am quite sure you don’t need my help to look foolish. You seem to be doing such an excellent job all by yourself.’
Niamh fumed as Ms Pussywillow turned away, suppressing another laugh.
‘Now sit yourself down and let me help,’ said the principal. ‘In a few moments you will be stepping out there in school colours, so officially you are representing us. I would be much happier if you left the fool act inside this tent.’
Niamh dropped into a chair as Ms Maladicta knelt down by her feet and flicked a small buckle on each boot, allowing Niamh’s feet to easily slide in. The witch snapped the buckle shut again before turning a scathing look on Niamh. ‘And what do you think you might learn from that?’
Niamh sat back heavily in the chair. She hated it when adults did that! ‘No idea,’ she said, pouting.
‘How about “anger doesn’t become you” my young girl. Remember that. Your brother learned that lesson from his dragon racing and now it is your turn. Stand up and let me see you.’
Niamh did as she was told and turned to look at herself in the mirror. Her racing garb was similar to the one she wore spell casting but was tighter fitting, with no loose material anywhere. It looked fast standing still and seemed to glisten in the light.
‘It’s based on dragon scales,’ said Ms Pussywillow, adjusting the collar. ‘It’s designed for racing. There’s no faster outfit in the land.’
The flap to Niamh’s changing room was pushed open as Aurelia stepped in. ‘They’re ready for us!’
‘Come,’ said Ms Maladicta. ‘Let’s see if you are as good as we think you are.’
Niamh looked up at the principal with surprise. It was the first time she had heard her use the word “good” in relation to anything Niamh had done. She didn’t have time to think about it much as she was hustled out to meet the other girls in her team along with the others inside the main tent.
‘Oh look!’ said a shrill voice. ‘They’ve brought the children out to play.’ Hegeline Baskerville swayed across the tent floor. She wore a similar racing kit to Niamh’s but while Niamh’s appeared sleek, the Flamville version was more dragon-like with a scaly pattern covering every inch of it. The effect was to turn the dark-haired girl into something more reptilian than human. The two other Flamville girls alongside Hegeline were similarly dressed and, together, the three looked like evil made flesh.
Aurelia stepped between Niamh and the Flamville team. Cory appeared beside them and, to Niamh’s complete surprise, an elven girl flanked Aurelia to create a formidable looking barrier.
Hegeline stared them down, malice in her eyes. ‘And look. The princess has her own protection squad. Let’s leave them to it, girls.’ Hegeline turned one last evil look on Niamh. ‘Be careful out there, princess. The race course is a dangerous place …’
The three Flamville girls turned as one and stormed out of the tent. Muted cheers greeted them as they entered the arena.
Niamh’s new friends exchanged a glance and a smile. The elf turned and nodded to Niamh but did not say a word as she walked away to join some of her own folk.
‘Who was that?’ said Niamh, watching the slim girl go.
‘Eilidia Ardghalia,’ said Cory. ‘She’s not from round our way. She’s from the high mountains to the north but she is one of the best racers you will see this year.’
‘Interesting how others seem to gather round you, Niamh,’ said Ms Pussywillow.
‘It may be more to do with Hegeline’s reputation than yours, Niamh. So why don’t you step outside with the others and build your own reputation now?’ Ms Maladicta gently pushed Niamh out of the tent into the bright sunlight. Niamh’s broomstick was handed to her and a number slapped on her arm as she walked out into the cheering crowd and the palpable tension of the pre-start excitement.
‘Remember the routine, Niamh,’ said Aurelia, whispering into Niamh’s ear. ‘Standing targets first, moving targets second, shots from your broomstick third, and defended targets last.’
‘What?’ said Niamh in shock. ‘Defended targets? Do you mean someone is shooting at us?’
‘Did no one tell you?’ said Aurelia in surprise.
‘They must have left that detail out,’ said Niamh, glancing angrily towards where her mother sat in the stands.
‘Well, don’t worry too much,’ said Cory. ‘They aren’t allowed to use any more than stinging spells. It feels like a sharp slap. Remember to head for your target area when you arrive at the shooting ranges – you are number ten so you should be about the middle of the shooting range each time you turn up.’
‘Thanks,’ said Niamh, with a little less grace than usual. She took a breath and tried to remind herself of Ms Pussywillow’s advice to channel her energy into the race.
‘To the starting line, please!’ bellowed Victor Vanderbilt from the podium by the side of the track.
‘Good luck,’ said Aurelia as she lined up a little further along the line. Niamh headed for her spot. With horror she saw that she was standing next to Hegeline.
‘Well, well. I would say I’ll see you on the course but I don’t expect to see you again until after the race,’ she said, smiling in a predatory manner. ‘Don’t be too upset at losing. Again. I’m sure you won’t lose by as much the next time round.’
‘Zip it, lizard lips,’ said Niamh. She didn’t know where the insult sprang from but the look of disgust on Hegeline’s face showed it had hit the mark.
‘Why you …’ Hegeline was momentarily lost for words. But a viscous sneer replaced the bewilderment. ‘Why don’t you and your brother go back to where you came from. You don’t belong here. You or your parents. We don’t need your type here – you’re not like us. We’d be better off without you. We…’ The last insult was cut off by Vanderbilt’s voice.
‘Racers to your marks. On the count of three!’
Niamh smiled sweetly at Hegeline who was clearly annoyed her insults hadn’t had the desired effect on her. She stumbled as she mounted her broomstick and waited for the start.
Vanderbilt’s voice rang out again; ‘Three, two, one!’
With an enormous boom a cannon behind the start line signalled the start of the race. The riders accelerated from the gates and sped towards the first turn. Niamh felt her heart beating loudly in her chest as she lined up the corner. She knew Hegeline was close by her shoulder as they hurtled towards the first turn.
Grace jumped to her feet as the starting cannon was fired. She grasped Merritt’s shoulder, stood on tiptoes, and peered through the drifting smoke from the cannon to see where Niamh was placed.
‘Owww,’ said Merritt, lifting Grace’s hand from his shoulder. ‘If you are going to do that then get your nails cut.’
‘Sorry,’ said Grace, sitting down again. ‘Just a little nervous. I remember my first race. Well, I remember the first five minutes of it anyway. I don’t remember much after I missed the corner leading to the first set of targets.’
Merritt chuckled. ‘Don’t worry about her. She’s a better broomstick rider than you were at the same age. And this is your plan, remember. Not mine. No point getting worried about it now.’ Merritt said the last quietly so that no one else could have heard.
‘Plans are wonderful,’ said Grace, watching the girls round the first corner. ‘I especially like the tinkling sound they make when they fall apart.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t worry if I were you. I think Hegeline Baskerville may get a surprise today.’
Niamh tried to relax as the racers exited the first corner. Hegeline surged ahead and glanced over her shoulder to scowl at Niamh who was clearly closer to her lacquered black broomstick than she would have liked. Eilidia flew alongside Niamh, her silver racing outfit sparkling like jewels in the sunlight.
Ahead of them the clear space of the race track narrowed as it entered the low forests of the foothills. Hegeline crouched lower over the tip of her broomstick as she attempted to shake the chasers, but Niamh remembered the lessons from Aoif
e well; “Tuck close in behind the broomstick in front of you if they are travelling fast. You will use less energy and be better prepared when you reach the targets.”
Scattered along the forest path were race marshals and fans. They cheered as the racers sailed past but the girls had no time to acknowledge them. The racers followed twists and turns through the damp forest trail which wound up and down across the face of the hills. Niamh found herself matching Hegeline’s speed with ease. She even found herself needing to slow down as she found better lines around the corners than those that Hegeline chose to take. Between them, the three girls had already opened up a gap to the remainder of the field. Like Niamh, Eilidia flew with a relaxed and graceful style that belied the speed she was maintaining.
The trees began to thin ahead. Niamh peered past Hegeline and saw the first target range appear. It was time to find out if Aoife’s lessons really were going to pay off!
Chapter 14
Merciful Choices
The screens in front of the main stand showed the girls heading towards the range. But Murdock had little interest in the competition today. With the crowds fixated on the images of the three leading racers, the elf took the opportunity to slip through a flap in the back of the tent to a quiet space behind.
‘Is what we suspected likely?’ he said, seemingly to thin air.
‘Yes,’ came Brighid’s voice in response. ‘I can see the spells at the final range have been tampered with. It’s clever spell work.’ The phoenix began to shimmer into view but her feathers were dull and muted as she tried to avoid drawing attention to herself.
‘Someone from Flamville?’
‘I doubt they have the skill to cast the subtle adjustments needed to do what has been done.’ Brighid looked uneasy. ‘I can’t stay long. I’m sure the girl will be able to look after herself until she gets to that range, but I would rather be out there to see for myself.’
‘Vynda and her … friends … are keeping an eye out as well. They have been watching the woods, though Vynda has been out there so long now I’m worried the setter part of her might start trying to assert itself. She’s as likely now to be looking for a squirrel than looking out for danger.’
Brighid laughed. ‘I think you underestimate her. Weresetter she may be but there is a lot more intelligence there than the average werewolf. Trust her. You know she has concerns about the signs of some creature in the forest? They can’t track it though – they have seen footprints but there is no scent.’
‘No scent at all? Nothing?’ said Murdock incredulously. ‘If she cannot track it then there is something foul about. And I’m not talking about Fitzhollow’s underwear either.’
The sound of approaching voices drifted around the corner. ‘I’ll go,’ said Brighid. ‘Keep an eye on the boy. I don’t believe he will do anything foolish but you can never tell. He seems to have an appetite for danger.’
Brighid faded from view as two guards walked around the corner. Murdock did not attempt to move but stepped quietly into the shadows beside a fold in the tent. One of the guards looked directly at where Murdock stood but the elf had blended so perfectly into the shadows it was impossible to see him unless you knew he was there. The guards moved on and as they rounded the corner, Murdock smiled and stepped silently from his hiding place. With an effortless leap onto the back of the royal podium he retook his place by the royal party. Merritt shared a look and a nod with him before turning back to focus on the screens ahead.
Niamh tried to remember Aoife’s lessons and breathed deeply as she swung around the corner into the target range. Flags with each racer’s number on them fluttered in the light breeze.
Ahead, Hegeline Baskerville slowed as she headed towards her flag. Before she reached the firing position she jumped off the broomstick, using her momentum to jog briskly towards her firing position. To her right Eilidia dismounted and did the same, wand already drawn.
Niamh entered the firing range at pace. Her speed meant the graceful dismount of the other riders was not a possibility. A different tack was needed. She sped towards her firing position. Just when it seemed she was beyond hope of stopping she pulled the tip of her broomstick roughly skyward and jammed down the tail, dragging it in the dirt and sliding off the back. The momentum of the broomstick made it fly forward, but Niamh held tightly to it as it flew up in the air, making her arrival look dramatically different. She stumbled as she landed but, somehow, ran the few paces to her spot without falling.
The crowd at the main stadium broke out into raucous applause at Niamh’s dismount – all except the Flamville supporters who sat stoically.
Grady leapt to his feet as his sister pulled out her wand and prepared to fire. He spotted Hugh, Bree, Quinn, Tulliah and Devin not far away in the main stand. Even Quinn was whooping with delight as Tulliah and Devin high-fived each other.
Murdock leaned close to Merritt and Grace. ‘I don’t think you have much to worry about. Not even you could have pulled that one off,’ he said, patting Grace on the shoulder.
Grace smiled to herself but would save the cheering for later. Fancy flying was one thing. Fancy shooting was a little more important now …
Hegeline and Eilidia had already loosed two shots by the time Niamh had calmed herself enough to fire her first. The bolt clipped the first of the round targets and knocked it backwards with a clang. Beside her the two other girls fired again, targets disappearing with each shot. By the time Niamh had fired her second shot Hegeline was lining up her final. It was clear Niamh was going to be last out of the three back onto the track if she did not finish quickly. The target range was filling rapidly with the remainder of the racers, and bolts were flying all around.
Persephone’s voice sounded urgently in her head; ‘Close your eyes and let me help.’
‘Not now!’ said Niamh. ‘I’m trying to concentrate!’
‘No time. Close your eyes and let me help.’
‘But …’
‘Hegeline is done! Do you want to catch her or not?’
Hegeline’s lips curled into a nasty sneer which made Niamh’s decision easier.
‘Okay. All yours,’ she said as she drew her wand back.
‘Finally,’ said Persephone.
Niamh closed her eyes but the daylight did not seem to fully disappear. The final three targets appeared to glow on the inside of her eyelids as clear as if she were staring straight at them.
‘Three shots – fast as possible and don’t even think about breathing.’
Niamh’s hand became a blur as three bolts rocketed from the tip of the wand. The remaining targets disappeared as the bolts ripped into them.
‘Brilliant!’ said Persephone. ‘Now go!’
Niamh did not need telling a second time. She did not even glance at the targets as she turned and snatched her broomstick. She leapt onto it as she ran and saw Hegeline and Eilidia were only metres ahead. Hegeline turned her head, eyes widening in surprise as she saw Niamh accelerating towards her. The surprise soon turned to anger as she urged her broomstick forward and headed for the second target range.
The crowd back at the main stand roared with delight as Niamh sped onward. Quinn turned to Bree and shook his head. ‘Remind me not to upset her,’ he said. ‘I’ve never seen shooting like that.’
Bree let out one more cheer before nodding in agreement. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d say she had someone else helping her with those shots.’
Quinn responded with an innocent look. ‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,’ he said. ‘But she should take all the help she can if it helps her beat Hegeline. Have you seen Reg over there?’
Bree turned to where Quinn pointed. In the stands there was one Flamville supporter who was cheering and clapping at Niamh’s shooting. Reg, Hegeline’s brother, was clearly enjoying the discomfort Niamh was causing to his sister. As Bree watched, one of the bigger Flamville boys clipped Reg around the head. Reg turned with a scowl and launched his considerable frame towards the other boy,
the two engaging in a battle of handbags at fifty paces before tumbling backwards out of sight off the temporary seating.
Bree and Quinn laughed loudly at the fall before turning their attention back to the big screen. Niamh’s speedy exit had taken her back up to Hegeline and Eilidia. The three were swiftly distancing themselves from the remainder of the field as the range turned into a mass of flying bolts and swirling colours.
‘That was well done,’ said Persephone. ‘I didn’t think you would adapt to the second sight so easily.’
‘Second sight?’ said Niamh. ‘What’s that?’
‘Something for another day,’ said Persephone. ‘Your mind can see more than you can imagine. Concentrate on the race.’
Niamh glanced ahead at Hegeline and Eilidia. The two were locked close together. Niamh was little more than a broomstick or two behind. She followed the two girls through every twist and turn as they climbed up through the foothills.
Hegeline glanced behind at Niamh. She slowed a little, allowing Niamh to close up enough that Hegeline’s broomstick bristles were almost tickling Niamh’s nose. Hegeline smiled and threw her broomstick to one side, causing Eilidia to swerve wildly. Niamh found herself hurtling directly towards the wide trunk of a tree which had been hidden from view. She flung her broomstick to the side and found herself flying off the path and into a rapidly thickening patch of forest. She glanced up and saw a hint of blue sky. Without thinking she pulled on the tip of her broomstick and sped toward it. She burst through the thinning leaves at the top of the tree and rolled left looking for the path. Below she saw Hegeline and Eilidia neck and neck, racing towards the peak of the hill they had been climbing. Niamh, now feeling more angry than scared at her lucky escape, fumed as one of Aoife’s lessons came back to her; “Don’t get caught in a pack or get too close to the rider in front. If you are boxed in you won’t be able to manoeuvre and if you can’t see ahead you can get thrown off track by a smart rider.” It was an elementary mistake. She pointed her broomstick in a steep dive and accelerated towards the two girls as they approached the crest of the hill.
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