“Once the Races begin, you’ll find the leaders’ names listed on your wristlet. Our generators and data should be updated every few minutes. Distances should be listed beside each name, indicating how far ahead of you they are on the course. If you invert the bracelet, the numbers should indicate how far the leaders are from the finish line. Understood?”

How far ahead of you they are…Naturally. Her assumption is that I will be well behind the leaders. That has been their assumption from the beginning. I bury the brief flash of anger, though, and ask the only question that matters to me.

“So you use these to track us?”

She nods. “The same energy field we use to broadcast the Races is used for keeping your locations up to date. It tracks all movements inside the boundaries of the course.”

When I don’t respond to that, the official reaches inside the box again. The second item is painfully familiar. Polished and flexible wood about the length of my arm. It rests in the shape of that baton the Ashlords are so deadly with. One end is padded with fine leather.

“Your switch.” The official watches me for a moment. “Do you require an explanation?”

I give the grip a quick double-squeeze. The Ashlord magic snakes through the material and the wooden frame retracts as a leather whip shakes out to the floor. I give the tongues a dance before squeezing the grip again. There’s a zip noise as the whip returns to baton form. I show the Ashlord the standard weapon.

“I think I’ve got it.”

The Ashlord nods. “The Powder Room is open.”

She leads me forward, knocks twice on the glass door, and leaves. There’s another Ashlord waiting to give instructions from within a bright, blinding room. I can barely pay attention to a word she says. Something about holding the switch in my hand and slapping the bracelet on my wrist has added a new weight to my shoulders. The burden of what comes next hovers overhead like a death sentence. The plan is the plan. I know it’s the right thing to do, but my life will never be the same. There will never be a chance to go back to normal.

Anger thrums in my chest. I can never go back to less. I can never go back to being buried before I’m born. I can never go back to bowing and scraping for what they give us. I will not be their pretty pawn in this year’s Races. I will show my people that we are more than that.

“You have five clockturns to make your decisions.”

I stare at the woman. Five clockturns? I barely need five seconds.

“Ivory of Earl, Gold, Revelrust, Kisspowder, and Silvertongue.”