Pandora's Gambit by Randall N. Bills

Author:Randall N. Bills [Bills, Randall N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780451461650
Barnesnoble:
Publisher: Roc
Published: 2007-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Otho Mountain

Padaron, Tamarind

Duchy of Tamarind-Abbey

“Hot damn!”

Christopher’s yell tore away in the torrent of icy wind as he went over the final big jump. Despite his best efforts, the line of his attack and speed— combined with the size of the drop-off on the backside—pulled him out of his crouch. Sensing his balance starting to shift, he broke his arms from their iron-hard arrowhead position and windmilled his right arm slightly before slamming back into the hard-packed snow.

Though he tried to soften the impact by bending his knees, it still jarred him to the bone, and his helmet smacked his knee hard enough to send a brief white flash of pain spiking from his leg to his brain. Managing to keep his descent under control despite the pain, Christopher pulled his arms back, by sheer force of will, into their arrowhead form. He crouched down until his gloves almost obscured his vision, hunkering down behind the windbreak of his arms and sawing through the last two turns until he hit the final stretch; then he buried his head, sacrificing sight and relying on his knowledge of the course because every thousandth of a second counted—and prayed and cursed for just one more ounce of force to bring him down off the mountain first. . . .

He shot past the finish line to the roar of the crowd. Quickly pulling out of the crouch, he put his weight onto the edge of both skis and leaned into the stop as he attempted to bleed off the excess velocity before smashing into the barricade like in last week’s training run. Dropping the poles to dangle on their straps at his wrists, he immediately pulled his goggles away to get a better look at the timing board. As he came to an abrupt halt, even the crowd appeared to hold its breath as the scoring board seemed to take extra long to update. Now starting to shiver from the aftereffects of the blow to his knee and the adrenaline rush now cresting and beginning to ebb, he tried to breathe while he waited, his lungs pulling in frigid air that didn’t seem to improve his light-headedness.

The applause exploded before his brain registered the digital scoreboard. First place by .002. “Unity!” he yelled, raising arms that no longer ached, his heart hammering double-time at the new surge of energy. “Hot damn. Yeah!” As he pumped his fists in the air and two of the good friends he’d made on this tour tackled him to the ground, a new sound rose from the crowd.

“Hellion Hughes. Hellion Hughes. Hellion Hughes.” The thundering chant hammered at Christopher’s senses as he struggled to his feet against Joshua thumping him on the back and Kiri throwing snow in his face. A warmth sparked in his stomach and slowly flowed out to every part of his body. A curse turned to a cheer. You’ll appreciate that, Mother.

“Christopher Hughes,” a woman began, pushing her microphone into his face as a camera crew worked their magic from behind.

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