Martial appears an hour before I’m scheduled to leave.

Yesterday was my last day with all of them. Farian and I walked around the entire city, laughing and eating the kind of food they would only ever serve in a city like Furia.

After, I sat down with Martial and Ayala. A final strategy session. They both had some great ideas. I let them talk me through it even though I have my own plan now.

Change the game.

If I’m going to win, I have to win my way.

Ayala is scheduled to escort me in thirty minutes. She’s the last person I’ll talk to before the Races begin, which is why I asked Martial to wake up early and pay me a private visit. I can’t share my plan with Ayala. It would break her heart, and I’ve actually started to like the woman. But Martial? He’ll understand exactly what I’m going to do and why I’m going to do it. And I need him if my plan is going to have any chance of working.

“Good morning,” he says.

“Morning.” I usher him in and lock the door. I’m about to unload my plan when he shakes his head. Quietly, he leads me into the bathroom. He runs the dueling faucets in the massive bath, filling the room with noise, before giving a nod.

“Never know who might be listening.”

I lower my voice to a whisper. “I need your help.”

“I figured you had a plan of your own.”

“I know where the course is.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“During the revelation, I kept getting distracted. I was seeing the edges of the map and not focusing on the highlighted course. It just looked so familiar.” I pull the folded map from my back pocket and point to a western corner. “It looked familiar because it is familiar. My cousin married a girl in one of these mountain villages. We all had to travel there in secret for the wedding.” I trace a section of the map with a finger. “This is the course.”

Martial looks at me uncertainly. “That’s great, Imelda. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but most of the other riders will know that, too. If they don’t know where it is, they’ll probably have redrawn the course from memory. That’s how the Ashlords are trained. Most of the good ones can take mental pictures. They go home after the revelation and draw the whole thing. Some of them are trained so well that they don’t even have to draw it. They just have it in here.” He taps his temple. “It’s a standard talent among their kind.”

I shake my head. “My advantage isn’t knowing the course.”

He frowns in confusion. “Now you’ve lost me.”