Unsurprisingly, the two of them have elected to go with the exact same stamina rebirth. You’ve assumed they would team up ever since they announced their eligibility. An identical summoning just acts as confirmation. They’ll work together. Pairings are common enough.

You lift an eyebrow, though, when you inspect Darvin’s horse. He’s from out on the coast. The son of a famous general in the Helio Wars. Too bad his father didn’t teach him the basics of the Races. His combination is the exact same as the siblings. Teams of two? Normal. But three riders all working together? That borders on embarrassment.

The final two riders are barely worth the effort, but Mother would insist on thoroughness. Everything a rider doesn’t know is a potential weakness waiting to be exploited. So you circle around to get a look at Ashtaki’s horse. He’s finished last in every single amateur race to date. The favorite cousin of the Brightness himself. Entering the Races is more a fashion statement for him, and sure enough he’s gone with a flashy rebirth that will make him invisible on the horse’s back. It’s about the most useless idea you’ve ever heard.

Last is Nelli. Her paper-brown horse looks the same way it always does. It’s a thin thing built for a much slower burn because Nelli is the only slow-rider in the field. Really, she’s the only slow-rider in decades. She’s beloved by some of the alternative newspapers as the only rider who does not sprint. Instead, she’ll marathon her way through each night. A slow pace. No deaths. No rebirths. No switches. She treats the phoenix like it’s a lesser breed, carefully observing the limitations that their magic allows the rest of us to break. Too bad her method has been disproven. Her own record proves that. You know she’s never finished higher than fourth.

You circle back to your own horse and smile. It’s nice of Nelli, you suppose, to donate one hundred thousand to the winner. Bravos is already back by his horse. Same for Adrian and Etzli. Some of the others are still memorizing details when the announcer steps forward.

“The time has ended,” he says. “Teams are standing by to collect your horses and return them to the proper stables. You are free until this evening. Tonight you will join us in the Hall of Maps for the Unveiling. Rest well until then!”

The adrenaline in your chest pulses. Eleven riders. Eleven horses.

You briefly lock eyes with Bravos.

Only one winner.

Chapter 12: Sounds Like the Truth