The memories flashed through Railing’s mind as the shoreline neared and the jagged edges of the Shredder came into sharper focus. He flattened himself further against the padding, gently testing the controls, making sure everything was responding. Redden had moved into position ahead of him, leading the way. In the Shredder, there wasn’t room to fly side by side, only in line. Even then, it was extremely tight. Going as fast as they were, it was suicide.

Which made it all the more irresistible.

“Hang on!” Redden yelled sharply.

Then they were whipping through the twists and turns of the Shredder, skimming past jagged cliffs and over the tips of rugged boulders, sliding between tree trunks and through dead branches, all the while pushing the thrusters harder, making the Sprints go faster. They were flying mostly on instinct, relying on quickness of response. They knew the course they were following, had memorized it thoroughly over the past few months. But the margin for error was so tiny that all it would take was one mistake and they would be a part of the landscape.

They didn’t think that way, though. They were young, and they believed nothing could really hurt them. They were convinced their flying skills would protect them. They believed a crash was out of the question.

Except that Railing recognized that some tiny part of him wanted to know what a crash would feel like and how much punishment his Sprint could take. Stupid to think that way, but there it was.

They raced through the obstacle course, hearing the scrape of branches against their hulls, the thrumming of the radian draws, and the rush of the wind in their ears. Everything was quick and fast, everything a blur, there and gone again in an instant. It was insanity, Railing thought suddenly. And it was such fun!

His brother increased his speed as they neared the return to the shoreline, then changed course abruptly and shot between a series of trunks at no more than six feet off the ground, mast raked all the way back. Railing hadn’t been expecting it and couldn’t make the adjustment fast enough. He was forced to settle for keeping to the old way, a less risky, more reliable side turn around a massive old cedar’s broad canopy before racing into the open once more.

Then they were back out over the waters of Rainbow Lake, flying side by side again, paired up in perfect formation. Railing saw his brother grinning at him, aware that he had done something Railing hadn’t. A challenge. Railing gave him a thumbs-up, an acknowledgment. But he would lead next when they went into the Shredder, and it would be his chance to respond. He was already thinking of how he would do that, what sort of trick he might try that would leave Redden eating his parse tube exhaust.