Author: Jo Gatenby

Lara hauled on her dust demon’s reins, desperate to keep the stupid creature on the coaster track and in the race. Desari’s wyrm, Dynamo, surged past them, scalding her with desert sand that slipped under her face mask, choking her.

With kicks and shouts, she urged Sandfire forward, but it was too late.

Second.

Again.

She ground her teeth. Damn it, she’d needed this win. As she strode back toward the stables, a message to her link stated the cola company, ‘Serpentade’, had decided ‘to go in another direction’.

Lara’s shoulders drooped. What else could she try?

Unbidden, the figure of the wild dust demon in training came to mind. Dad thought Devilry wasn’t ready. He was too young, untested. Yet he had more potential than any wyrm they’d ever raised. This planet spawned twelve-ton, walrus-like, scaled monsters, sporting razor-sharp teeth, but her family bred them for size—and speed.

Forget the balloon payment coming due on the mortgage… if Devilry won, breeding rights alone would set them up for life.

But there was only one week till the Interplanetary Championship. Dad would never agree. It was dangerous, irresponsible… but winning was their last hope. Old Sandfire just didn’t have it in him to beat Dynamo.

Although guilt pricked her, Lara defied her father, swapping the bulls’ nametags, to sneak Devilry onto the transport ship, for airlift to the circuit.

Now she sat astride the restless demon, reacting to the scent of other males so close by.

The horn blared…

The gate dropped…

Devilry surged forward with youthful arrogance. Snarling, he sped through the first coaster loop, ramming through the competition, nearing the front with a snort of pleasure. Yet Desari’s veteran demon stayed doggedly ahead, blocking every attempt to pass, either in the huge loops or on flat-out runs.

Amid bone-jarring crashes and ear-splitting roars, the pair edged ever closer to the lead—until only one twist of the narrowing track remained.

Devilry sped through the final loop, picking up speed, instinctively shoving hard to the inside. Banking into the corner, he surged right, driving Dynamo into the barricade.

Lara met Desari’s terrified eyes as his impetus forced the wyrm upward, waving his useless front legs in the air.

Top-heavy, he teetered. The crowd gasped, fearing he would fall atop the barrier wall, plummeting to the ground, and crushing his rider.

‘I want to win, but not like this!’

Devilry responded to her fear, using his forward momentum to arch backward—something demons were never built to do. He struck his opponent on the side, changing his trajectory.

Dynamo twisted, as Lara reached over, grabbed Desari’s hand, and pulled her to safety.

Another demon barreled past, taking advantage of their distraction.

Dynamo crashed down with a sickening crunch, his injured body blocking the track. Lara dropped Desari beside him. The sobbing rider stared up at her, and they shared a moment of grief.

Turning away, Lara pressed the bull forward, and moments later, they crossed the finish line.

Second. Again.

Cheers erupted, but they didn’t matter.

They’d lost.

She leaned against Devilry’s heaving side. They’d done their best. It just wasn’t enough. How could she face Dad? And what about Dynamo? They’d have to sell him, but…

A polite cough made her lift her head. A well-dressed man, incongruous amid the dust and confusion, held out a card. “I’m with ‘Serpentade Cola’. We want to offer you sponsorship.”

Lara stared. “But we lost,” she blurted.

“True,” he agreed. “But that rescue is what everyone will be talking about whenever Devilry races.”

He winked. “You can’t buy publicity like that.”