Only this time they would be using the wishsong to enhance the experience, and neither of them knew what that would mean. Flying faster, they hoped. But maybe something more, as well. The magic was unpredictable, and the user could never be entirely certain how it would respond. There were stories about this, some of them very dark indeed. The brothers had heard more than a few. Not from their mother, of course, who wouldn’t even speak of the magic, but from the Alt Mers and others who had known Bek and Penderrin and especially Grianne. The magic, they said, could do anything. It could even kill.

But the brothers weren’t planning on using it that extremely, so Railing pushed aside his concerns and focused on his intent for the next pass into the Shredder. He glanced over at Redden, made a quick sign that he was ready, saw his brother motion in response, and brought his Sprint around in a wide sweep so that he was again facing toward the shoreline.

Then howling like a wild man he jammed the thruster levers all the way forward.

The Sprint bucked and lurched in response, the entire vessel shaking with the sudden influx of power fed down into the parse tubes. The racer catapulted forward like a great cat, whipping across the flat, broad surface of the lake, tearing toward the opening of the obstacle course. Railing risked a quick glance over one shoulder. Redden was right behind him, tracking in his wake.

Ahead, the Shredder’s rocks and trees came into sharp focus, the opening easily discernible. Exhilarated, Railing flattened himself further in the cockpit of his craft, flexed his hands on the thruster levers, and summoned the wishsong’s magic. It began as a humming changed to words, a small flux within his throat that ran down into his body, warming his lungs and belly, then was carried through his bloodstream and into his limbs. He felt a sharp tingling, and then the rush of the magic as it exploded to life, hard and certain. He fought to keep it under control, reining it in when it tried to break free, channeling it into his hands and from there into the controls and down into the diapson crystals, feeding and enhancing their power.

Abruptly, the crystals responded, and the little Sprint shot ahead as if a pebble from a sling. The force of the acceleration was so powerful that Railing was almost thrown from the cockpit. Only the restraining straps kept him from being tossed out. The wind whipped into his eyes with renewed force, bringing fresh tears to his eyes, nearly blinding him. Spray from the surface of the lake waters, which this sudden surge had disturbed, whipped across his face, cold and sharp.

Too much power!