They caught abruptly, cutting into the ice. The bob’s nose jerked around. The sudden change of direction threw Nina sideways, harsh ice rushing past mere inches from her cheek. She gasped and pulled herself upright. The sledge veered back into the pipe, rocking violently – then steadying.

More energy bolts slammed into the ice and snow. She was partly protected by the track’s walls, but she still leaned back as far as she dared, looking over the bobsled’s nose to bring it into the next turn. It hurtled through, more or less holding course.

Nina didn’t believe for an instant that that was down to any skill on her part – more like pure luck. The test would come in a moment. She rocketed towards a tighter turn, gaining speed. If she screwed up now, she would be launched into the air like a missile—

The bob shot into the turn, rolling almost perpendicular to the ground. She tugged the cables. It straightened, wavering as velocity and gravity battled – then angled back down, sweeping out of the bend into a longer straight.

Her relief was tempered with concern. The bobsled would now pick up even more speed . . . and the track’s designers had probably saved the most challenging curves until last.

But she was past the Nephilim, more than halfway down. If she stayed on course, she would get her chance to escape . . .

A bend loomed ahead – and she knew in a flash of horrified realisation that she wouldn’t make it.

Its upper edge curled back over the pipe, partially enclosing it. An expert rider at full speed would actually be inverted as they shot through. Nina wasn’t even close to full speed – but nor was she an expert.

She pulled the cables, riding up the straight’s side – then angling back down into the bend in the hope of cutting through it.

It didn’t work.

The runner on the track’s higher side dug into the ice, hard. It jerked around, yanking the handle from her grip.

Nina knew her ride was doomed. She threw herself out of the open rear – as the sled flipped over.

She slammed down on her back and slithered along behind the tumbling bob. The fibreglass cowling disintegrated, a broken panel barely missing her neck as it slashed over her. She didn’t even have the breath to scream, desperately splaying her arms and legs wide to slow herself while trying to keep her head from rasping along the bumpy surface.

Both the sled and its former rider rounded the last corner. Nina dug her heels into the ice. The bob crossed a red line, a hooter echoing through the chamber. Her time flashed up on an illuminated sign: thirty-two seconds, a sad emoji telling her she hadn’t broken any records.

All she cared about was that she hadn’t broken any bones. She pushed her feet down harder, slowing as she crossed the line—