Stain's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Stain was stretching outside his den when the boy ran up with the message. The keeper's doubt still rang in his ears from the day before. He had proved his speed but not his stamina. Now the boy held out a strip of orange cloth and spoke fast. "The fastest runner of the south quarter challenges you. A public trial. If you refuse, he'll call you a coward before the whole race." Stain's gut turned cold. He knew who sent it. Cruelpap was the one runner in Horaes he truly feared, the midnight blue saurian with legs thick as roots. Refusing meant shame. Running meant testing the one weakness he never named, the thing that gnawed his legs over long distance. The keeper read the cloth over Stain's shoulder. His purple feathers rose. "You run, or you're finished before the race starts." They walked to the test ground, a long loop beneath a towering basalt arch fused with clear glass. Lightning-colored veins glowed in the stone. A crowd gathered under the transparent crown. Cruelpap waited at the line, arms crossed over his yellow and orange uniform. Silver lightning bolts marked his black trainers. "Basket weave on your feet," Cruelpap said, eyeing the wraps torn from the sacred tree. "Cute. Let's see them last." He grinned. "Three loops. Not one short dash." Stain's throat tightened. Three loops. Long enough for the weakness to find him. He took the line anyway. A glowing dragonfly drifted past, wings shimmering in the arch's firelight. The keeper dropped his hand. "Run." Stain shot forward. Cruelpap matched him, bulky legs pounding. The first loop stayed even. On the second, Stain pulled ahead, his racehorse legs stretching long and clean. The crowd murmured. His wraps gripped the stone. He felt fast, free, certain. Then the third loop came, and the weakness arrived with it. His left leg stiffened. A dull burn climbed from his ankle. His stride shortened. He fought it, breath ragged. Cruelpap drew level his trainers flashing silver. Stain crossed the line, a feather width ahead of Cruelpap. He bent over, hands on his knees, his leg screaming. Cruelpap raised both arms to the crowd. "The legs are fast," Cruelpap called out, loud enough for all to hear. "But he breaks at distance. I watched it happen. Everyone watched it happen." He pointed at Stain's trembling leg. "The grand race is longer still. He won't last." The crowd buzzed. The keeper stood frozen, feathers flat, his doe eyes fixed on Stain's shaking leg. He said nothing. He did not have to. His silence was heavier than any shout. Stain straightened. The thing he feared was no longer secret. Cruelpap had seen it. The whole quarter had seen it. Before the grand race even began, every rival in Horaes now knew exactly how to beat him.