Skandar’s sister was leaning on one elbow now, her thin pale face alight with excitement, her hazel hair and eyes wild. Kenna was a year older than Skandar, but they looked so similar that they’d often been mistaken for twins. “You’ll see,” Skandar said, grinning. “Aspen’s learned from her other Chaos Cups. She won’t just use water; she’s smarter than that. Last year she combined the elements. If I was riding New-Age Frost, I’d go for lightning bolts and whirlpool attacks.…” Kenna’s face changed at once. Her eyes dulled; the smile dropped from the corners of her mouth. Her elbow collapsed, and she turned to the wall again, gathering her coral duvet round her shoulders. “Kenn, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” The smell of bacon and burnt toast wafted under the door. Skandar’s stomach rumbled into the silence. “Kenna?” “Leave me alone, Skar.” “Aren’t you going to watch the Cup with me and Dad?”
