Devils And Unicorns

Chapter 24

At the centre of Fallbourne's Grand Chase course stood a great tower, constructed of brick and stone in a style to match that of the buildings in the town. From this tower, connections of the runners and those spectators who had paid a premium could watch the race in much greater detail than those down on the ground would be able to appreciate. Given the complexity of the course, there was no vantage point in existence that would allow one an unhindered view of the entire race; however, the Fallbourne tower was the closest one would come.

From the tower, it was possible to view both the start and finishing line of the race, the fabled 'Steps' and - from a distance, if you had good binoculars - the deadly descent into the River Fall. The field would disappear from sight when winding their way single file through the woods, and again as they ploughed through the marshland on the banks of the Fall.

Besides the finish line, pockets of onlookers had gathered at other interesting points on the course: on the riverbank opposite the drop, alongside certain fences, and where the field would burst out of the woods onto the cliffs.

It was from the tower that Charlie and Florence would be granted the chance to watch events unfold, relying on their perceptions from this vantage point to supplement the information fed to them by the commentary piped in through speakers across the course.

Florence had just given Zac a leg up onto Last Unicorn's back.

"Alright Zac," she said with a deep breath, trying not to let fear crack her voice. "Remember what we agreed. If it's too bad out there, just pull him up, okay? Get home safe."

"I'll do my best," he said.

She gripped his hand tightly in her own, locking her eyes against his.

"Good luck," she said as she released him. He nodded silently, drawing in an audibly uneven breath himself as he pulled the reins through his fingers and kicked his mount on to join the parade of runners making their way down to the start. She watched the horse jog into place, his tail flashing against his hocks as he began to bristle with anticipation. It all came down to this.

This was the culmination of absolutely everything.

"Come on." She heard Charlie's voice behind her. "We'd better make our way up. It's all down to Zac and the horse, now."

"Charlie, I'm scared," she said. The words emerged from her throat through a desperate croak.

"I know. Come on, they'll be alright."

She followed him through the crowd of racegoers and the straggling connections of the runners, up several flights of stairs inside the great tower, past laughing groups of merrymakers and waiting staff carrying platters of colourful appetisers. Florence could stomach nothing, and was surprised that anybody else here could.

The room at the top of the tower was bright and airy, on account of the floor-to-ceiling windows permitting a view in every direction. It was certainly a most impressive structure, and Florence was certain that absolutely nothing like it existed back in Driftland - even at the more prosperous courses such as Perchborn. She stared out over the River Fall, her eyes following the vast shoulders of mountains that pointed towards a pure white sky beyond it. For a brief moment, she forgot her nerves: she was enraptured by the beauty of the landscape.

Any peace she could find in the juncture was interrupted, and in the most unpleasant way possible, by the coarse voice of none other than Errol Carver.

"Trent," it said. She turned around to see Carver staring up at Charlie with an expression of utter disdain.

"I don't have anything to say to you, Errol," Charlie said, his voice weary.