“Left,” you say. “He—The rest of the riders will be that way. Go left.”

Quinn clicks her tongue, and Trust allows himself be pulled in that direction.

You watch the canyon faces grow nearer, towering to block out an already setting sun. The other riders will reach the forest paths soon. Bravos has a head start on most of them. If he rode well today, he’ll have the advantage as night falls and the second rebirthings begin.

Not too many surprises in that section of the course. And Bravos has the ability to hold his own whenever night comes. The winner will need to race hard and have an iron will. It’s more clear than ever that Bravos possesses both.

“Wait,” you call suddenly. “Go to the right. Quinn! Go right.”

The sudden shift and shouting unnerves the blind phoenix. You slow, cutting across the rising face of the canyon and slipping into the shadows of the second valley. You see now that you were right. Only one other pair of tracks leads this way. A backward glance shows a chaos of footprints heading the other direction.

“Why this way?” Quinn asks. “Why’d you change your mind?”

For the first time all day, you smile.

“The caves are this way.”

“Caves?” Quinn calls back in confusion. “And?”

“And it’s the only way to catch up.”

Quinn glances back. An understanding passes between the two of you.

This isn’t over. Not yet.

As the sun sets, you hold your pace. There’s one unintended advantage to Bravos’s betrayal. Riders can push a phoenix in sunlight, recklessly so. Something about daylight regenerates and renews the physical body of a phoenix. Hearts that should burst don’t. Bones that should break remain whole. Most riders still pace their horses, trading gallops for trots, because even ancient magics have their limitations.

But Trust hasn’t worked up to a gallop all day. So even as the sun sets, you know he’ll be able to ride well into the night. Somewhere on the course, Nelli is doing the same thing. You haven’t seen her name in the standings, and strategists have long refuted any benefit to slow-riding. The pace that resurrection riders can set is impossible for a slower horse to recoup in those brief hours of ashes and stars. Tonight, though, you’ll slow-ride as far as you can. You’re pretty sure you can at least reach the entrance to the caves.

“I like that idea,” Quinn says. “It’s a good plan.”

You blink, a little startled. “Was I saying that out loud?”

The spirit shakes her tangled hair. “No…I…I somehow heard it, though.”

“Good. That’s the plan. I hope you’re not afraid of the dark.”

Quinn grins back. “Afraid of the dark? The dark is all I’ve ever known.”