Skandar shrugged, and Kenna laughed as she squeezed onto the sofa next to him. “Look at you both taking up so much room. I’ll be on the floor next year!” Dad said, laughing. Skandar’s heart clenched. If his exam went well, he wouldn’t be here next year. He’d be watching the Chaos Cup in person, on the Island, and he’d have his very own unicorn. “Kenna, cards on the table! Favorite?” Dad asked her, leaning round Skandar. She stared at the television, munching moodily. “Earlier she said Aspen and New-Age Frost won’t win,” Skandar piped up, looking for a reaction. It worked. “Maybe another year Aspen will do it, but this isn’t a good race for a water wielder.” Kenna tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, a gesture so familiar to Skandar that it made him feel safe. Like Kenna was going to be okay, even if Skandar did leave her alone with Dad on the sofa next year. Skandar shook his head. “I told you, Aspen isn’t just going to rely on the water element. She’s cleverer than that—she’ll use air, fire, and earth attacks too, for sure.” “A rider is always best at their allied element, though, Skar. That’s why it’s called allied—duh! Say Aspen did use a fire attack; it’s not going to compare with anything an actual fire wielder can do, is it?” “All right then, who do you think’s going to win?” Skandar sat up as Dad turned the volume higher, the commentary reaching fever pitch as the armored competitors jostled for positions behind the starting bar. “Ema Templeton and Mountain’s Fear,” Kenna said very quietly. “Tenth last year, air wielder, high stamina, brave, intelligent. She’s the kind of rider I would’ve been.” It was the first time Skandar had heard Kenna acknowledge that she wouldn’t ever be a rider. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what, and then it was too late. So he listened to the commentator trying to fill the seconds before the race began.
